In which Unka Dave pulls his shirt up over his nose…

The puppers (and Simon) and I are visiting my sister and her husband, Dave, this weekend for the opening of the Georgia Renaissance Festival and Easter. We’re doing all kinds of new, exciting, and different things on this adventure, like fitting four greyhounds into the back of my Honda Element, racing down I-85 hoping to get their food to a refrigerator before it goes stinky because I didn’t stop for ice, and trying a new kibble that has no grains in it whatsoever.

The fitting of the four greyhounds went remarkably well, considering one of mine even got carsick on the way down to Atlanta. (I had no idea till I got here, joy, bliss…) The racing down to Atlanta went well also, as I channeled my father upon leaving Simon’s people’s house and struck out following road signs to get back to the interstate.

The new kibble is the flop of the weekend I think. First of all, it STINKS. SMELLS REALLY BAD. Were I still in college I might even say it SMELLS LIKE ARSE. Had to expect that, though, when the first ingredient is salmon, followed by tuna. But as bad as it smells going in I think it’s worse coming out. Quite honestly (and most likely to the horror of my family) I don’t really notice canine flatulence as much as I did when I first got my dogs. It just happens.

Their Unka Dave is not so familiar.

I keep looking over to where he is working on something for the Good Friday service tonight and he intermittently will pull his t-shirt up over his nose. But they love you, Unka Dave….

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