If it weren’t for my family and friends (and even my dachshunds), I’d be even more
hysterical and depressed than I usually am.
This is me at Gardens of the World in Thousand Oaks (I think).
Robin, Gilbert and my younger grandson, Riki, visited Roswell for Easter! They know
where to go for eats.
Here are all of us (and Melody, George and Gracie) at Bitter Lakes outside of Roswell.
Riki likes to participate in endurance events, and he eats like it (notice the knife
holding that thing together. It took more than mere toothpicks). And Riki demolished
My darling Heidi (the spotty one in the back) is still ill with congestive heart
failure, but she’s much improved in health.
Here are Bella and Bam-Bam, two of the most neurotic wiener dogs I’ve ever known.
That’s because they’re puppy-mill dogs and spent their first few years in concrete
crates with no human contact or hugs or pets. But they’re slowly socializing. Sort
And if you visit Roswell, you have to go to the aliens!
Gilbert and Melody entering (or leaving) New Mexico, the Land of Enchantment. And
if you believe that, I have a bridge...oh, never mind.
Gilbert at the South Park Cemetery in Roswell, where many of my late family members
are buried. But Kenny isn’t. Here Gilbert is mourning the loss of Bacon.
Robin and Gilbert like going to antique stores. Here’s me chatting with the owner
of the Salt Creek Antique Shop in Roswell. Love that place!
It’s Scrappy with his ears on the alert!
And here’s Giblett in his Pasha pose. It fits, unless there’s a baby Pekinese around