Here is Elvis. It's not the best pic of him, but I'll get more up later. He's laying with Pierre.
Pierre was a miniture Poodle that belonged to my great aunt. She passed away three years ago, and I inherited him. Of course he was 15 years old when I got him. He went totally blind in that time. His bladder became pretty weak. And he became totally dependant. He was nearly 18 years old when he died last month. I cried. I will miss him. He has a nice little grave under the Magnolia tree in the back yard with a fence and a head stone.
And these are my Opaline Gouramis. I never named them. They just kinda make my living room wall look pretty. I'm open to suggestions. I"m not sure of their sexes, but I suppose it wouldn't matter. They're fish. They'll never know the difference, right?
And to end the day, a few of my white leghorns. They were rescued from the frying pan, poor little ladies. These are my first hens that Henry brought me at 9 o'clock at night. They took nearly three months to start laying, and I was considering sending 'em back to the frying pan.
Well, I am certainly glad it's not 104 degrees here today. Though, it is about 93, that's hot enough for me. It's making my tomato plants wilt, and I don't like that. I put up poles for my string beans yesterday. I was finishing right about dark and the skeeters were eating me up. Why did God ever make those nasty buggers, anyway?!
I guess I better get my nose back to the old grind stone. Have a good one!!