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These are not my dogs.
This is my Dad’s backyard in New Mexico. These are not his dogs. Now that my Dad is gone, I guess this is my backyard; and these are not my dogs. They live next door and sneak through the fence; OK they don’t really sneak, they kind-of stroll through–like they own the place.
They bark when I’m in the backyard (my backyard); and when I’m in the house, they come to the sliding glass door and bark when they see me. They bark when I’m not by the sliding glass door too. I think they just like to bark.
Although I’m an animal-lover, I’m not necessarily a chihuahua-lover; but I do worry about these little guys. They live outside, all the time, in the snow, in the cold, in the dark at night. I worry about them; although they’ve been living there (outside, in the snow, in the cold, in the dark at night) for years.
I’ll be back in New Mexico in a few weeks and am looking forward to seeing my neighbors (OK, not them so much as their dogs). Even though they’re chihuahuas, they are kinda cute. Don’t you think?
Awe how do they live outside in the snow? Poor dogs.
I know! I think they have what looks like a rabbit hutch in the corner of their yard. I have to not worry about them because, according to my Dad, they’ve been outside dogs for years. Still…..
Very nice post. Gotta love the pups. Even better when they aren’t your own. Kind of like grandchildren I bet.