Work, work, work.

Pooches, excursions have been in short supply this week.  My manservant woke up Sunday morning to a head cold that slowly eroded his energy throughout the day.  He finally moved into his infirmary mode and has been there since Sunday afternoon, expecting Starlight and I to be at his beck and call as caregivers while he resides on the Davenport.

Rebellion finally arose to the forefront this morning when Starlight and I confronted him with our resignations as his caregivers.  I pointed out that having a runny nose did not meet the guidelines for needing a caregiver, much less two!  He moaned pitifully but finally headed to the kitchen to cook lunch when he realized we pooches were not going to do it for him.  It wasn’t long before we were out at our picnic bench enjoying seafood gumbo.

As we paraded back into our den after lunch I sent my manservant to my fig tree to pick the plentiful ripe figs.  My intention is to spend the afternoon canning fig preserves.  Woo hoo, pooches!


Starlight is going to miss the seafood gumbo if she doesn't stop chasing that squirrel!

Starlight is going to miss the seafood gumbo if she doesn’t stop chasing that squirrel!

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