03 January 2011

Murry, Murry, he's so furry

Brinkley is my dog. He loves the streets of New York as much as I do; although he likes to eat bits of pizza and bagel off the street, and I prefer to buy them. Brinkley is a great catcher and was offered a tryout on the Mets farm team, but he chose to stay with me so he could spend 18 hours a day sleeping on a large green pillow the size of an inner tube.
 So says Joe Fox. F-O-X.


Murry is my dog. He has never been to New York, and he does not eat bits of bagel or pizza. He does like the streets of Tualatin, though, as well as Tillamook cheese.

Normally, Murry is a happy, bouncy, well-behaved pup. But today he looked more like this:


Megan is gone and the kids went back to school. That means no one to play with except me and Mom. But Mom gets busy and I run out of dog game ideas.


Poor Murry.

Jessie and I tried to cheer him up.








I don't know if we succeeded or not. He ran away from us. Occasionally he's a taciturn dog.


We love him anyway.

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