It’s the hellhounds’ tenth birthday today. TEN YEARS OLD. DOUBLE DIGITS. How time flies whether you’re having fun or not.
That’s a cat, off to the right. Which is why their leads are still on. They (conveniently) really dislike running with their leads bumbling along behind them.* The churchyard has two resident cats: the nice one and the troll. This is the troll. Also Chaos is lame and has the brain of a burrito, and if the troll started doing his evil troll dance Chaos would be after him and those of us who live with him are already frelling hostage to his drama queen performances–I’m sure he is genuinely lame, but how lame might be open to interpretation–I do not want to live with him after he’s done himself in worse by chasing an evil troll who, having achieved his nefarious aim, has gone over the churchyard wall.
And, because I managed to miss Pav’s fourth birthday earlier in the month, here is an exemplary photo of a hellterror sunbathing:
Extra chicken jerky all round tonight. Chicken jerky because it’s about the only thing in the known universe that the hellhounds consider an exciting edible.
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* The hellterror does not care. CAT! CAT! CATCATCATCATCAT! There’s a lead with a big fat plastic handle that is almost as big as I am dragging after me because the hellgoddess lost the plot for two seconds?^ NEVER MIND. I SHALL LEVITATE.
^ Possibly because she was pursuing some other plot, and that hand was flexing in a sword-holding, reins-grasping, steering-wheel gripping, spell-casting or villain-strangling manner.
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