Penelope likes her new stick so much she prefers to sleep out on the deck with it, rather than come inside where sticks are not allowed.
At the Musée Mecanique.
Ben and I have recently started going to Fort Point/Crissy Field on the weekends. We walk around, watch the doggies playing on the beach and make up little stories about what the dogs are saying/thinking. “You’ll never catch me, losers! Wait, catch me!” Or, “Throw the ball, throw it, c’mon, throw the ball, omg throoooowwwww it.” Or “This water is so much colder than I expected. I regret all my life choices!”
I wonder whether people hear us and think we’re insane.
We just miss having a dog, you judgmental jerks. Dang.