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Murphy is getting ready for his big adventure, and so are we. We are all driving south to California to visit family. It didn't seem right leaving Murph alone this Christmas, his first Christmas. He already has gifts in his stocking and under the tree. And his bag is packed, unlike ours. Happy Christmas to all...see you in the New Year.
When times are tough...I'm thankful for the love of family and friends.
Murphy was a good sport when he let me put this head band on...but he kept his eyes closed. Maybe that was because I have to wait until he's half comatose before he would let me do such a thing...Happy Halloween!
I've been sick this week. Bad cough. Headache. No swine flu, just something else. This according to the doctor. Murphy and I have just been lounging about. It's not uncommon for me to wake up with something furry around my head. Wish I could be healthy and stay home - then we could play more. But I don't think work would approve. Check out Murph's bedhead. You can barely see his face underneath all of that scraggly mess. My little muppet.
Last Monday night, a school night, Marc and I went to see Pearl Jam. Marc had seen them before, but I hadn't so wanted to. After all, Pearl Jam in Seattle - it's like U2 in Ireland; or the Beatles in Liverpool; or Bob Dylan in Hibbing, Minnesota - okay, that may be a stretch. So we lumbered over to Key Arena and saw a great show. A friend at work took this photo. Great rock band. Great show. But I'm getting old. The MJ was prevalent at PJ and the drunk behind us, while funny, was also annoying. An interesting mix of people. Seattle proved to be the best home crowd, though, singing along and showering the band with as much applause and awe as they could muster.
Bruce Springsteen turns 60 tomorrow, Sept. 23rd. My hero. 60. In honor of this, Murphy will wear a red bandana during his evening walk. Tramps like Murph, baby he was born to run...
We recently spent the weekend in Chicago, primarily to see U2 at Soldier Field, but also to see the city. The wonderful windy city. From the top of the Sears Tower, to Wrigley Field, to a play at Steppenwolf, the Shedd Aquarium and the Art Institute - we couldn't have asked for a better weekend. But something was missing. Murphy. Around every turn, we were reminded of our little guy - meeting another labradoodle on the street; seeing a sign near Wrigley that said Murphy's, to receiving text of a picture of Murphy sprawled on our friends' bed, with the caption, "Easy Livin.'" Murphy was well taken care of by our friends, Bill and Bev. We missed Murph's antics, and were so happy to return to his welcoming, furry arms.
