introducing mr. lunch, or why dogs should be able to cut their own hair

ann and dabney recently looked back at this blog and realized that they hardly make mention of the most important "being" in their daily lives: feidler their springer spaniel -- also known as pooper, poops, little-ness, mr. lunch, and on certain bad days, commander dickweed. this august, he will turn thirteen; that's ninety-one to ann and dabney. despite his youthful physique, his hearing is certainly waning and his eyesight, while questionable to begin with, has diminished probably to very fuzzy black and white shapes. the only thing that seems to enhance with time is his capacity to be sweet. granted, it may be merely him moving slower these days but damn, he looks sweet doing it.

always a fan of enclosed spaces, one of his favorite places to curl up is under the sewing machine table in the back porch while dabney is working away above him.



feidler gets many comments and questions from strangers on his daily walks around the south end. so, to address some of them here: 1) no, it's not a bad toupee; 2) yes, his hair really grows like that; and 3) yes, his mommies really are crazy.