It’s Tortilla Time

I joined the cool club and took pictures of my uncle’s guinea pig. Jinx stayed with us the last couple nights that my uncle was here and, despite the fact that I loathe rodents, I took a few pictures.

And for my good friend Yoonamaniac:

I washed my hands thoroughly proceeding my encounter with the guinea pig, fearing that I’d contract foreign diseases from the thing. I dislike the critters, I am willing to admit.

Seamus shared the same sentiments as me. Jinx’s presence made him want to scream.

And then he turned all emo on me…

I thought that he looked like a beached orca.

Wait until you see Seamus’ Halloween costume. It’s going to be epic.

Today was Seamus’ gotcha day. In other words, it has been two years since my initial encounter with this eccentric canine. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to celebrate with him on account of the sheer volume of essays that have been so oh-so-kindly bestowed upon me.

My poor baby. He got to go to the park, but that was the extent of his birthday celebration. Though yesterday we switched his food from California Natural to Merricks, and he seems most appreciative. I know that Baja swears by California Natural, and it is really good food, I am willing to admit. My guys just didn’t seem particularly fond of it.

Merricks, on the other hand, they adore.

So anyways, happy third gotcha day/birthday, Seamus. You little weirdo.

Seamus routinely sleeps in this position.

Seamus is especially gassy today. He currently lays at my feet, and I am doing what I can to prevent suffocating from the putrid stench.

Who knew that such a sweet faced animal could produce such a vile odour?

My legs are all scratched up, courtesy of the dense one. Note to self: it may be time for a nail trim.

My friend and I took Seamus and Rocky to the park today, and had as much fun as expected. Seamus and Rocky have formed some sort of deep, meaningful bond, and are damn-near inseparable. I can almost sense the shock that conquers Seamus each time he catches sight of his good friend Rocky, as Rocky has now grown to well over twice the size of Seamus. Seamus is now forced to stand on his hind legs to look his pal in the eyes. It must suck.

The dense one can make me so mad that I wish to rip out every last strand of my hair off my head, and at times such these I exhale gently and remember what a sweet, loving dog he is capable of being. The kind of dog that he was today. I love him.

If Marley is so deserving of a book and movie, shouldn’t Seamus be?

… think of Seamus.

Seamus may not be a perfect dog, but dammit he is mine and I love him for it.