I made Sparky a step stool to get in and out of my truck.
Sparky wants me to point out that this isn’t an old-age accommodation, my truck is too high for dogs.
Category: Sparky (Page 1 of 56)
Sparky really likes to help me take a nap. Davy tried laying down to see what Sparky would do. Davy wasn’t impressed. Then Sparky turned on the charm. It’s almost too much.
It’s a cold and rainy Fall day, so I want a nap, and Sparky wants to help.
These are Sparky’s cousins. From the left, Chumley, Grumpy, Cueball and Snowflake. Sparky came up with those names. It took a while for me to figure out that Sparky is a mean girl. I don’t know if Sparky has even met Spunky and Cooper. Maybe when I had gallbladder surgery.
I’ve been vexed by a project that’s taken three times longer than it should have, so I haven’t posted for a couple of days.
Sparky hasn’t been getting as much attention as he should. He can work around that by taking more naps, but he is concerned that the last couple of posts make him sound like a feeble dotard.
Sparky wanted me to set the record straight by getting video of him tearing up this bully stick like a puppy half his age.
I thought about adding music or wisecracks to the video, but sometimes it’s enough to see Sparky use his little paws like people hands.
That’s his sheepish grin. He’s playing it cool, but Sparky is flustered.
Sparky was excited to go for a car ride. Going down the stairs to the garage, he almost lost it.
Sparky has two crates, two additional beds, a ball pit and his own couch. He figured the best move was to spend the night on my couch on the clean laundry that I didn’t get around to folding last night.
I don’t mind. Not even a little bit. Sparky isn’t a young fella anymore, so we make allowances.
When Sparky finally gets out of bed, do I put away my laundry or throw it back in the washing machine?
I don’t want to be a filthy beast man or dog boy, so I suppose I will do a load of laundry.
Sparky isn’t one of those dogs who wonders who’s a good boy. He knows he is.
Sparky’s night crate was moved to the hallway as I was cleaning my bedroom. His crate was standing on end. Sparky couldn’t get in to his crate, so felt that he needed to. I don’t know how he did it or how long he was trapped in the small bedroom, but somehow, his crate fell over and he was stuck.
With the exception of dogs who need straightened out or Black men who look like bears, Sparky doesn’t bark. I don’t even think he would bark at turkeys anymore. He just waited patiently for me to get him out of this jam.
Sparky and I are having a slow start to the day.