It has been two days since his last Furminating. Two. Days.
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@tuckerdog
It has been two days since his last Furminating. Two. Days.
This thing is amazing. I could make a whole new Tucker with the hair I get out of one brushing a week. I covet this model with the hair-release button. Mine isn't so fancy.
If you have a dog who sheds you need this.
Post-Furminator Shame Syndrome. It's a thing. And he'd better get used to it as we're already up to every other day in order to keep my apartment from looking like a gang of Muppets exploded in there.
A college friend was here for the weekend. Tucker is in love.
The look of a man who has tired himself out rubbing his butt on me. (Taken with instagram)
He pleads the fifth.
"Tucker you look weird now."
Somebody does not understand me when I tell him to stop being so cute and cuddly because I have to get ready for work. Or he understands it perfectly.
Cuddling with a tennis ball: a thing since May 9, 2012.
I will never not be creeped out by him sleeping with his eyes open.
ETA: His left eye is rolled into the back of his head. It is as unsettling as it sounds.
Relaxing while I'm on the phone.
Neighbor is moving. He is not amused.
"No, I'm not checking on you in the bath. Again. There's a smell here. See? A smell right here. Anyway, I see you're still in water on purpose but still alive and not in extraordinary pain so I'll just go see if there's a smell somewhere else now."
Sundog, finally learning that the chair is not the only sunny spot in this apartment.
Even he can't believe the smells coming out of his butt right now.
Vitamin D and Snuggle Therapy. Essential to surviving the long Chicago winter.
He was sleeping under the covers when I got in the shower. This is how I found him when I got out. Would love to have seen the struggle.
When he's deeply asleep his face relaxes and gets all mushy.