Every Picture Tells A Story

Coco had her annual physical yesterday. No shots, just an exam. Still she was freaked about having to leave her comfy treat-filled home, ride in the car (EEP!) and have other humans touch her.

I believe she’s forgiven me but it’s a little hard to tell. She regularly rocks a fierce mien so //shrugs// time will tell.

Yesterday’s short trip reminded me of how stressful travel is for our girl. As much as I’d LOVE to take Coco to see Daddy, I just can’t do it to her. This, naturally, gives me a sad. Doesn’t everything though?

I was cleaning out the phone camera this morning. That's something I routinely nag Jen to do but rarely bother with myself.  OH, the treasures that I came across.

What’d I find? Apart from a zillion Coco pics (as well as more than a few of of my dearly departed, Rocco), I came across the beautiful lava fields outside Reykjavik, a creepy night shot taken from my front porch, a boat, passing by on a Malevich-ian grey day, a selfie taken with my old buddy Godzilla, Jen shoveling snow on a dark winter morning, Berlin sculptures of which I was exceptionally fond, clouds in flight and a bunch of shots from the Blow Donna’s Mind Tour from my first visit to Ten’s home state of Oregon.

See, not ALL cats and seagulls at dawn!

Every picture tells a story, don't it?