Little Kickers

I went to Milo's soccer game today. Not exactly what I imagined after watching the last two World Cups, but entertaining nonetheless.

Turns out Milo's pretty good at this. I take some credit for this: he's been kicking me fairly consistently for the last year and I've never once ask him to stop.

I was less than thrilled when he got this sticker after the game. 

Kinda feel like I'm being replaced. I've heard through the grapevine that I should be getting used to this. Hmmm..

Hombre

I got skunked the other day. Again.

Dan and Tiia had to do the hydrogen peroxide/baking powder/dish soap rinse. Again.

It got the smell out. Again.

But this time they left it in a bit too long and now I'm sporting this stylish ombré look.

I've been told I'm "au courant" which, being a French Water Dog seems appropriate. Except that since it's mostly on my back, I have to take people's word for it. And I do, because people have no reason to lie to me. Except for Dan when he said I'd be able to join him in the boat. Son of a gun.

Dearest Kaitoo

You were a good fish. You spent most of your time nestled comfortably in your reed; a different lifestyle than your predecessor, but a fine way to live just the same (I'd spend all day in bed if I could).

Your passing, while sad, was not in vain. You helped us give Milo his first lesson in mortality.AS you can see, he took the news well and waved you off. I would have done the same but my arms are legs and don't work that way.