Driveway at sunset. We're not sure why the sun appears to
be setting in the south. Nothing out there but frozen soybeans and
coyotes.
Grass is still
green, but, with luck, will die come spring.
|
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| Sparky on the desk, doing his
Maltese Falcon shtick. |
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| Sparky as a child. His
original name was Claude, but that just seemed to be encouraging him. |
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| Pokey grazing near the shed where
the groundhogs live. |
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| Pokey and her dictionaries.
Pokey has the worst posture ever seen in a vertebrate. |
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| Purty. |
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| Brownie chasing a rabbit. The
rabbit always wins. |
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| Brownie as a child.
Brownie now has an extensive vocabulary and is
deathly afraid of a squeaky green plastic pickle I keep on a shelf in
my office. Merely speaking the word "pickle" in the kitchen, for
example, will send Brownie scurrying out of the room.
Pokey doesn't care about pickles and only
responds to two words: "dog food."
|
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| Brownie and Pokey in the Holiday
Pageant several years ago. Pokey is
smiling because we gave up on her antlers after she tried to eat them
for the third time. |
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| Dawn. Also 14 below zero.
Fuhgeddaboudit. |
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| Sparky sitting on radios again.
If you find yourself trolling the net looking for
pictures of cats sitting on radios, you will enjoy the customer cats
page at Universal Radio, a
fine bunch of folks in Reynoldsburg, Ohio. |
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| Rainbow landing on the farm across
the road. No pot of gold. I looked. |
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