Saturday was my birthday. I was so excited.
But the mommas forgot.
I had visions of playing with my ball for hours, leaping and flying through the air.
But the mommas forgot, no ball. Just this old stuffie.
Wait, what’s that? Could it be?????
My ball! Doing the happy dance, there’s my ball.
I’ve got it, don’t worry, I’ve got it.
Nothin’ is better than a weimaraner and her ball.
Mom, you can throw that old toy all you want, but I’m not giving up my ball.
Happy belated 9th birthday, Emmaweimar
What long legs you have!
Beautiful, long, silky and blue. Ya wanna know why?
So I can come from a mile behind and
You better look out you slow piece of bird doo, I’m closing in.
Come on weimie, can’t you fly any faster than that?
How’s the dust taste?
That Danny Bleu may have passed me by, but he never got my ball!
Just when you thought you were going the right direction, it was wrong.
The cherries have had their day, the plums are quickly coming to an end, and the walnuts and hazelnuts aren’t quiet ready.
These sweet little blossoms have done their magic and turned into apples.
And one by one they are falling to the ground.
This makes for one very happy weimie. A weimie that is not interested in sharing, not even with Lucee.
So Emma picked up her apple pieces and moved them to another location, still feeling the need to guard her treasure closely.
Until she was quite sure that she could enjoy her first apple of the season in peace.
Yup, only a weimie would run around with a tennis ball in their mouths labeled “hyper dog”
You walk up to them with a real serious look on your face, like this, and you say, “Yes, I really do give a crap.”