My Life Is Weird, Part..oh, who knows at this point

I  mean,  who finds a pig in their front yard?

Open Thread: My Life Is Weird, part..I've lost count

Our Sunday was interesting…

Yes, that’s a pig.

Yes, that’s my front yard.

Anyone keeping track of how many different animals I’ve rescued since we’ve all known each other?

Clearly a “house-pig” she was housebroken and rolled over several times so I could rub her belly.  In the several hours she stayed with us, she managed to wreak havoc in the garage, getting into everything. And every time I opened the door to check on her, she’d try and force her way into the house.

I kept her in the garage, but Bixby, being well able to open any door, finally made his way into the garage, so I said screw it and let them all out into the backyard and watched them interact. I was pretty certain the dogs would behave but was unsure our guest would leave the ducks alone.

I need not have worried about the little pig and dogs, they acted like they’d been friends forever.  The ducks, however, were not amused.

While outside, Miss Pig-Pig’s people were out looking for her and I heard them calling her, so I located them and reunited them with their friend.

She was completely adorable, running as fast as her little legs would take her to her people when they came to get her. She lives close enough to hear the ducks every morning and her people mentioned she loves it when the ducks do their morning calls and she oinks along.

Maybe she didn’t end up in our front yard accidentally.  Hmmm…


A Little Scout and Gabe

I needed a new profile picture for Facebook, and Scout obliged.

And here is Gabe doing his balancing act. He has been lying on the rail, which is adorable with all his, shall we say, floofiness (we do not body shame here 😉 ) but whenever I get the camera out, he bolts. I’ll keep trying.


 

Emma Makes The Rules

emma snuggled quilt

I try very hard to make the bed while all the animals are having breakfast. Because if I get slowed down for any reason, the cats take over the bed and object loudly if I try and make it.

And as far as Emma is concerned, the look says it all: This bed will not be made.

At 16, what Emma wants, Emma gets.