i have decided that the definition for woebegone needs to include a picture of atlas wearing a t-shirt. doesn't he look miserable? i hated to do it, but he had a wound that needed to heal and would not stop licking it, and i finally got tired of shouting no at him.

if i ever wonder why i cannot get my dream bedding, i just need to look at this picture of muddy paw prints on the bed. (i feel like this photo does not even do the mud justice.) why is it that a) my brilliant rainy day ideas always involve a very wet and muddy dog and b) the same wet and muddy dog likes to dry himself off on my bed? i suspect that pre-atlas-me would think current-me has lost her sanity because current-me just looks at the paw prints and smiles because she is so happy that she has an atlas pup to track mud on the bed.