The Daily Baxter

I’ve got another photo from my remote correspondents and it’s a doozy.

I think I preferred the yorkies to this prehistoric looking goon.

He’s not even cute if I squint my eyes and only look at him really quickly.

Also, what is he standing near?  I think it’s water, but it sure is a funny color.  I’ve never seen the river that color—what do you think this means?

Amanda and Ryan sure do some weird stuff when I’m not around.

Ok, I admit it.  Red had a good move here.

So he can leap.  Big whoop.  I can run faster & jump higher.  So fast & so high that mere mortal cameras are insufficient to capture my speeding images.

Clearly Red’s a lot slower.

Yeah, he’s got it now — look at those teeth.

Don’t worry, I’m not scared.  After all — I. Am. Baxter!

NOW he’s getting the idea!

I’m trying to convince him that we’ll have fun.  Doesn’t he look like he’s enjoying it?

Actually, this picture looks sort of like the ReBax beast - half Red & half Baxter.  This is MY blog, so why did I get the back half?!

Today was a longday.  Not as long as when I’m home, but longer than I’d like.

So when Grandma came home and took us outside, Red (a Lowchen, since you asked) and I were ready to play!

At least I was.  Red took a little persuading.

This just in from my southern correspondents:  Amanda and Ryan were seen petting these atrocities.

They’re in a baby stroller at a street carnival.  Why? Why?

I like Grandma Peg and all, but I can’t help feeling like I’ve been wronged.

If you’re going to go all the way across the country to cheat on me, at least try to be a little bit classy.

Tibetan Terriers > Yorkshire Terriers. It’s like comparing creme brulee to instant vanilla pudding. No contest.

IT’S A MIRACLE!!!

I woke up from a nap, and there was Long Dog, lying on his back and smiling like mad.

I have no idea how this wonder of modern medicine occurred, but I think whoever was responsible should be nominated for the Nobel Prize.

Don’t you agree?

Something bad happened.  Long Dog died.  I don’t know what happened.  Or how.

One minute I was gently nuzzling him, the next he’d spilled his guts all over the carpet.

Grandma says not to feel too sad.  He lived a long ;-) life, and wasn’t well when he arrived here at the park/country.

Still, he was a good friend.  Sorry to see you go, Long Dog.

Grandma thought it was impossible for me to get muddy feet with everything covered with 12”+ of snow.

Clearly she was wrong.  I. Am. Baxter!   King of achieving the impossible!

Then she figured out that I dug in her one open garden.  Oops.