The Chronicles of Zippy
We went camping. I believe “camping” is an old Indian word for “a walk every half-hour or so.”
We have a tent…
…but we sleep in the van. We are smart dogs. Good morning!
Do you like our ramp? Our folks built this for us so we don’t have to jump.
Anyway, here we are on one of an endless series of walks. If you have visited our Lake Tahoe page, you might recognize this beach.
One of these large objects is Daisy after the 178th walk of the day. The other large object is a rock. You may have difficulty distinguishing them.
Pinecones fall with alarming regularity. I am glad I did not get beaned.
Surprise! Another walk!
Camping is very tiring. I need a nap.
My folks made Dog Toast this morning. Not on purpose. Dog Toast is never made on purpose.
Dog Toast is a delightful combination of bread and charcoal. It is crunchy and warm and—I think—quite delicious.
I don’t know why my folks don’t like it, but I’m glad they don’t.
My folks are confused. They are standing in the kitchen, looking at the refrigerator.
They know that it is a good inch farther from the wall than it was the last time they saw it. What they don’t know is why.
They don’t know that a treat rolled behind there. They do know that I can be quite determined. I am now waiting to see how long it takes for them to figure it out.
This is Lucy.
I am a bit jealous of her. She has been called for jury duty. Twice. I have never been called even once. I would enjoy doing my civic duty. Perhaps I should register to vote.
I don’t know if I should mention this to her or not, but Daisy looks terrible.
She is shedding her winter coat, and she looks like a shag carpet. In fact, she is dropping so much fur, she is making a shag carpet.
