What's wrong with dirt...

What's wrong with dirt?  I don't get it.  I really don't!

I go frolicking about in a bit of dirt and Myrtle gets all kinds of upset.  Sharp words are flung my way and her hands are none too gentle as she picks me up and holds my paws beneath running water in the sink.  To add insult to injury, Myrtle doesn't give me a bath when my paws turn black; she just washes the dirt off of them and leaves me with damp paws.  It's been practically forever since my last bath.  SIGH.

She didn't take a photo today, but here's a shot from a while ago.  My paws don't look that bad, do they?

Today, Myrtle spent a long time attacking the ground with this claw-like tool. All the while, she was muttering up a storm.  By the time she was done, the ground that used to hold the Rose of Sharon bushes was turned up and crumbled--all the way from the lilac tree, past the bird bath, and on over beneath the ornamental magnolia tree. 

I was plumb exhausted from chasing the Fearsome Beast out of the yard, so I spent a while resting in my favorite spot on the top of the back steps.  If you look closely, you can see one of my outdoor chew toys.  I try to bring them in the house, but Myrtle doesn't like me shredding them inside.  I don't know why, though....

Part way through her labors, I got to thinking she looked mighty lonely over there, attacking the ground and muttering to herself.  A person walking by might think she was a tad off her rocker, so I thought I would be quite helpful and join her.  The dirt was all soft and fluffy, so I rolled around in it and helped her attack the dirt.  Much to my surprise, Myrtle was not pleased at all with my help.  In fact, some shouting was involved.  While I disagree, Myrtle seems to think I should have known she would not have preferred my help.  But, I ask you, if we do practically everything else together, how am I supposed to know mucking about in the dirt is NOT something she wants to share with me? [A bit stingy of her, too, my way of thinking!]

Well, we've both been recovering on the couch.  The first photo is one of my favorite places to nap.  I find Mrytle to be a tad like a heating pad, which helps since she keeps the house so cold.  The second is why it is that I think Myrtle is just swell: she doesn't mind my stretching a bit even when I am atop her torso.

Even though Myrtle has some strong opinions about dirt, she is a good mate.  Even though Myrtle has very high expectations about my remembering everything she thinks a puppy should know, she is a good puppy mom.  Even though she still refuses to share her bacon, I think I have it pretty good. After all, someone who lets you nap to your heart's desire and joins you much of the time is my kind of buddy!  And, well, she did forgive me...eventually...for eating her eggs and bacon.

This is my life with Myrtle.  Amos Adams signing off!