Rusty in Doghouse and Praline

Before Rusty does today's post, we all want to take a moment to say good-bye to an old friend. It's a sad day as another blogging legend has passed.

Sweet Praline had to be helped to the bridge this morning. We all knew this was coming, since she has been ill for a while and stopped eating Thursday. We decided to try our paw at making a graphic for her and as you can see, we have a long way to go before we even reach "fair" in the graphic department. And it's cropped a bit tight because some furry - and we won't even give you his initial but if we did it would be P - put the date as 20111.

Paula, our artwork isn't the best, but the sentiment is real.We're very sorry for your loss and have been tearing for days as Praline's time came. She will really be missed! You can visit her and leave a comment at Sweet Praline's blog.

Just as we were about to publish this, we learned Gabbi of the Dughallmor Beagles has passed. They haven't blogged in a few months but this is their blog.


And now here's Rusty with our scheduled post.

Rusty here. I am so ashamed because I am in the doghouse. Literally.

I've been relegated to the doghouse because I think if the dogs are allowed outside, I should be allowed outside. After all, I'm as big as Merci, just not as long in body. I investigate, eat grass, roll in the dirt and sun my tummy.

However, Saturday afternoon Jan came to let us inside and I wasn't there. She panicked, raced through the house, put Merci on a leash to help find me, and ran out the front door.

Buddy started howling because he wasn't allowed to go with them. Sam started barking because Buddy was howling. And when Jan came running around the back toward the alley, there I was trying to get in the screen door because the guys were making a racket and I'd been left behind.

Yesterday I got caught. Jan was outside with us. She turned around and I was missing again. And then she spied me in the neighbor's green plants - you know, the kind of things Jan kills with her black thumb - on the property line. She ran through the house and when I heard her coming, I scooted back into the yard and sat on the top step waiting to come inside.

But I waited too long to run home. Jan saw where I squeezed back through the fence and stood a cinder block there until she can figure out what to do. I know this because it was there this morning. As soon as I got outside today, I headed right to my once secret passageway. Don't worry, though. I haven't given up. We cats can squeeze through tight spaces and I'll find another one.

I'm so embarrassed I can't even look at Jan. But I'm sorry. I won't do it again. I promise. (I think.)

Ha! She forgives me. She falls for it every time.