Our garage has been 1/4 painted for the last 7 years. Everyday when I pulled my truck into the garage, I stared at brush strokes on the wall in front of me.
When I woke up this afternoon (I work nights), this is what I beheld:
I'm sure my husband loved having help from our second eldest son, Clay, who recently moved from Charlotte, NC.
I am so happy about this makeover.
Once again, we had thunder with a light rain. Big 'Ole Nasty Dog goes into 'Freak Out' mode.
He trembles, he pants, he paces, he slobbers. He's a mess.
Clay tries to reassure him but he's just not listening.
So, in order to dull the sound of thunder, Clay tries to muffle Big 'Ole Nasty Dogs ears.
Then my daughter tries to relax him by giving him a pedicure... Maybe I should say, a "pawdicure".
We also played loud music in an attempt to drown out the distant rumbling. Big 'Ole Nasty Dog enjoyed his makeover.
He's a metrosexual in this regard: loves meticulous grooming, a new wardrobe, and now... having his nails done.
I'm so glad we never got into brushing his teeth.
I think we need to seriously consider some Valium for him. Or Xanax. Or Ativan... Whatever the vet thinks will help him endure the dreaded thunder.
When things were quiet again, Buns and Big 'Ole Nasty Dog shared a moment of peace.
He looks a little embarrassed here. I guess it's a little humbling when a rabbit has to come over to make sure you're alright.
Oh well, that's what makes us love him.
Here's to being accepted with flaws and all
on Whippoorwill Road,