And here is my little old man, soaking up some Vitamin D, basking in his favorite spot.
He's recovered from his "separation sickness," now that we're home and the first thing he can do in the mornings is come to my side of the bed at and give me kisses and cuddles. He's also mostly recovered from his frolic in the river on Sunday, when he overdid it trying to out-swim and out-race young Sebastian; he stiffened up so he could hardly walk by Sunday nightfall, and was pretty gimpy all day Monday, too.
Today Bernie and John had places to go and things to do, so it was just me and the dogs for a few hours. Sebastian curled up on his Daddy's pillows and kept warm on this chilly autumn day, and I don't count the cat because he sleeps all day in Lillian's bed. Howie, however, followed me from room to room, bouncing his tennis ball off my toes, playing "Make the Bed Ball" (he tosses the ball into the bedding to make me get it) and "Laundry Ball" (he bounces the ball to me as I'm folding clothes so I kick it back to him); while I did my ironing in the garage studio, with the garage door open, he lay patiently on his rug, watching cars and people go by, following me in and out as I put shirts away and got the next batch to iron. While I cooked spaghetti sauce, he puttered around the kitchen, hoping for a sample, but not really mooching -- I think he's figured out that if there's a garlic smell, he's not getting any taste treats. (Fish or chicken or beef being cut up brings both dogs running to watch the cutting board!) Lately he's begun to try to get me to play Kitchen Ball, but I really don't encourage that one. All I need is to have a tennis ball go flying and land in the butter dish.
Tonight, too, we're on our own, as the rest of the household went to a concert. Howie is on the couch, leaning on the pillows, keeping an eye on the front walk through the windows. Now and then he and I look at one another, just making sure we know where the other is.