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Bucky seems to be saying, "it's too cold out here." He lacks the fur of a Lab or Golden Retriever.This AM's low temp is 22F in Atlanta. Which is about 8 weeks early for such coldness. And it is windy. Definitely top coat and gloves weather.
She reminds me of the narrator from the Robert Frost poem "Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening." Happy Thanksgiving, Professor.
Whose dog park’s this no dog can know I don’t care about property though; Or whoever sees me sniffing here Before the smells are cover’d in snow. My little man must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year. He gives his doggy bags a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound’s the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The park is lovely, bright and neat. But I have dinner food to eat, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
Alternate concept:Whose woods these are I think I know. They’re mine! I’ll say why this is so: Many times have I been peeing here I’ve made it mine, with yellow snow.
nice turn of phrase Mme Professor.
Happy Thanksgiving, Althouse and Meade.
What are you thankful for?Always and always, this first generation-er is thankful for my grandparents and parents having come to this country.
A Pilgrim Thanksgiving
My PhD student made a new tradition of sending a thank you email like the one below after he graduated and he has kept it going for years now. This morning I opened my email with some trepidation about how I would react if he stopped but he didn't.----------------------Holidays make me happy but thanksgiving is special. I always remember and am grateful to all your support and help.------------------------
Happy Thanksgiving, Professor and Meade. And of course that dog's a sweetheart - she's a boxer girl! There's one on my lap right now, as a matter of fact. One of the many things I'm thankful for today.Cheers, all.
I'm thankful for so many things, including Meade's beautiful dog photography!
Happy Thanksgiving! I am thankful for this blog. It's so amazing, Althouse, truly. You're the Lou Gehrig of blogging. The Iron Horse. So much work, every day. Just a wonderful hostess.
Was this the dark park that I knewwhen I was just a puppy? True,but as I was a puppy thenthis dog park wasn't quite the sameAnd, yes the smells remind me howmy so-called master loved to howlwhen I would I would act against a wishthat I refrain for that, or this.And now less willful, less careered,I wander boxing and unsteered,un-this, un-that. And underneaththe yellow snow, is something green?The woods are lovely, dark and deep. But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
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