Hi. It's Buster at the keyboard, thinking wistfully and randomly. Maybe my mom will fashion some things into a real narrative, if I can lure her to the computer; in the meantime, you'll have to tolerate my non sequitur canine brain with its impulsive world-view.
So we're back from The Pond--sitting in the boring Nutmeg State (Hoo-Rah!) watching the remnants of Hurricane Hanna pass overhead. No pix of of the storm--it was vastly overrated--but I thought I'd share a few more of my summer photos, 'cuz I miss New Hampshire!
My swimming buddy, Lester the Loon, kept me company and let me paddle up next to him.
Lester spent most of his time underwater. If he wasn't down at the bottom of the pond catching trout, he was up on the top snorkeling...
Big, blue dragonflies were everywhere--buzzing around my head and mating with other blue dragonflies. It's a good life if you can tolerate the obligatory year's consignment to the bottom of the pond as a carnivorous predator-nymph.
I got to take LONG walks down the dirt road with my human lackies. Sometimes I'd see hawks and deer and snakes. No tree was left unautographed!
Mom insisted that I collect bull thistles for her. They're kinda like most of the girls in my life--beautiful and a bit prickly...
Princess Bailey, on the other hand, was the Goddess of studied domesticity.
Some things just naturally go with "loon"--hmmm...lune...moon...
In the evening, I'd go out in the boat and watch the bats. Coming back, the cottage would look all warm and snuggly. Mom would be waiting, reading a book, and my soft bed would be all ready.
This is an unimaginably hard life, and I miss it.