This shot would seem to say that Fiona is happy about it all.  She isn't, I just happened to catch her mid pant - Gus's expression speaks for itself...


Miss Rose is doing well.  At least I think she is.  She's sound anyway.  Hard to know what is actually happening in her foot without hauling her down the mountain for a new set of x-rays - but the vet assures me so long as I don't go riding her down a paved road or doing 5 foot jumps (yeah right) she will be fine.  Without that nerve sending signals to her brain she feels no pain anyway - which makes us both happy.  She's energetic and ready to do far more than her mom is in any shape to do, but with temps in the mid to upper 50s the last several days I've plunked my butt in the saddle and we've trotted around a bit together.


...


This is a little corgi I felted, stands about an inch and a half high .


And a felted heffalump... I mean effalent...I mean elephant.

and a woozzle - well, a 'possum.  He hangs by his tail (as all 'possums should) from the cork board behind my computer.



After a workout a girl's gotta lounge about with her chewies and squeeky toys...

And Gus is lamenting his short legs as he cannot reach his tennis ball perpetually under the couch.  You should hear the mournful sounds emanating from his silly self.

And of course, as it is 5:15pm and dinner isn't until 5:30 pm, a corgi must simply collapse from starvation as the cruel humans force him to wait...

And the beat goes on....