The Daily Baxter
I'm a Tibetan Terrier Puppy!
dailybaxter (at) gmail (dot) com
OK everyone, on the count of three, sing it with me:
Frosty the snowman, was a jolly happy soul
with Tiffany ribbon lips
and a cardboard nose
and two eyes made out of Samoas.
The snowman is alright, but what you can’t see is all the traffic slowing down and/or stopping.
I can read lips pretty good and all those cars were full of people going “Gosh! Is that really him? Is that Baxter of internet fame?? He lives on our block!!”
True story.
Oh hey.
So 2011. I barely even remember what those fads are.
2012: Snow Seats are where it’s at.
GMA, call me, I’ll totally give you an exclusive.
Ok, obviously the shirt was staged, but the expression and the posture and the pointing? That’s all Rusty.
I’d like to think that he’s learning his posing skills from me.
And as for the message “Baxter: I’ll bet you think this blog is about you”. I mean, it’s not my favorite, but I appreciate the snark.
I also appreciate that I can’t simply read the shirt, it’s all Carly Simon up in my head.
And yes. I totally know who Carly Simon is. WHO DOESN’T??
Shout out to Sarah for concepting and gifting the onesie ;)
Ummmmm guys? I’m a little worried about Amanda. Let me tell you about a conversation I overheard last night at 3am.
Amanda: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!
(At this point Amanda pulls the covers over her head)
Ryan: What’s going on?!?
Amanda: THERE’S BUGS ON MY HEAD!!!!!
Ryan: There’s no bugs.
Amanda: Are you sure? Check!
Ryan: Yes I’m sure.
(He didn’t even look!)
Amanda: Oh, I’ve only been asleep for 2 hours.
Then she fell right back asleep!
I’m no Dr. Phil, but this doesn’t seem normal. Send help!
What the? Oh hell no! Furgie does not get treats, those are the rules.
I’ll handle this. Let me just make sure she didn’t drop any…
Holy crow how many treats does this cat need? I count about 10 too many.
Beat it Furgie! All your treats are belong to Baxter B!
According to Amanda I’m not allowed to bring this bone inside anymore because it’s “covered in mud” and “gross”. I told her it was a gift from Gramma Ginger and I should be able to do what I want with it, but it’s totally lost on her.
She claims that my tasty and delicious bone is responsible for these big chunks of mud all over the house and she says that mud “doesn’t belong in the house”.
Well unfortunately for Amanda, she is in San Francisco, and Ryan is a push over.
BAXTER B BAD BOY 4 LIFE!
This photo sums things up pretty nicely. As you can see, Mr. Rusty gets center stage, basking in the glow of his new found stardom. I swear, that kid sticks his tongue out and everyone rejoices as though he just built a perpetual motion machine.
Meanwhile has anyone seen Baxter? Oh yeah, here I am, way in the background, quietly waiting to be let outside where I will also be ignored.
Maybe not quietly, but waiting nonetheless. In the background. Sadly.
Just doing a little quality assurance testing over here.
Amanda’s almost done with this quilt for baby Rusty, and someone’s got to make sure it’s ready.
So far so good—no errant pins, the snuggle factor is high, and I kind of feel like I’m in the jungle, but without all the scary threats of real lions and snakes and stuff.
I’ve noticed that a lot of baby stuff says to wash it and sterilize it before use…dog butts and paws are sterile, right? I mean, I clean them myself every single day!
Sooo about this blogging thing.
Do you think Amanda understands what ‘daily’ means?
Will SOPA or PIPA shut me down for being disingenuous?
You guys will vouch for me, right?
It’s SO not my fault!
Apparently this is the new “fun” around here.
Remember back when I went to the park more days than not, and the days of yesteryear when I didn’t have to compete for camera time?
Socks on a dog.
Hope it’s a big hit with you all.
I’m going to go hide in the dark somewhere.
