I’m a big fan of the schnozz.
Manboy and I took our own version of a “staycation” by getting a hotel room in Brisbane’s CBD (central business district ~ downtown). We’re 5 km from home–2 km if we were crows–but we’re 17 stories up with two balconies and a view to the river.
If you’re not familiar with Brisbane, what you’re looking at is a pocket of the Brisbane River that shows Kangaroo Point Cliffs (no roos, sorry) and the Story Bridge.
See the A? We’re up and to the right of that at that cluster of yellow streets. See the willy rising up from the lower right? That’s a pocket. Our home is down and further to the right of that. Yeah, we’re not far away, but tonight we dine IN HELL! No, sorry. That was 300, and I didn’t dine in hell, I sat through a bad movie in hell. However, anything can be saved by kittens:
Before we left, I took some schnoz photos:
It’s hard to tell that Fabian, sleeping so peacefully, had a fight with Omo around 2 am. Omo is one that wakes up growling. If you touch his feet while he’s sleeping, you’ll get a growl. He lost a nail while at the Mothership, so his feet are more off limits than before. It was sad. Omo has cuts on his nose and, to me, one familiar with his face, he looks like a proboscis monkey. Fabian was concerned. You’re familiar with dogs; you know how it is. There is only one way to have a hissy in canineville. Omo moped, and Fabian wanted to lick.
Oh, I forgot to start at the beginning. My first rude awakening was because a fly flew into my ear. No, not that annoying mosquito hoving crap. IN. TO. MY. FECKIN. EAR! To say that I flipped out, would be and understatement. Überflipped. My fingers clawed at my ears. I screamed. I had to shake my head with the violated ear down (Yes, violated. Feck off.) to see a little fly carcass fall out. I lived an urban nightmare. So this canine kerfuffle was rude awakening #2.
I played nice-nice and all was well. Mutual facelicking told me that the boys were fine. That’s just Omo. It’s life with a sleep startler and an unco three-legged dog.
Omo’s a little tender, but his schnoz is still gorgeous:
My second favourite photo of Omo. Yeah yeah, I can’t have a second favourite because of what favourite means. Blah blah blah. Who cares about English when you have feets peeking out of a fancy pleated jacket?
My mostest yoyostest favouritest photo of Omo:
I’ll end the Saturday pet blogger blog hop post with one last schnoz of my Tamale. One reason I don’t like to post a reminder of when she died is that she died on Manboy’s birthday. I also lost Sierra, a cat, around his birthday. He’s had two birthdays with a sobbing wife and didn’t say a word. He didn’t ask for me to harden up, so to reward him, I don’t get too down mid October. Now that I can smell November, I’ll put a mini memorial here.
To Tamale, who died suddenly and completely unexpectedly, I still miss you. This is a photo I fiddled with when she died. She always woke me up by doinking my nose.
So, another hop is here.
The rules of the hop.
The peeps who play: