Sunday was the four-week birthday of the Jolly Crew.
|Red Sonja. She is seal, not black. You are gonna have to trust me on this.|
|Gertrude Imogene Stubbs. Daddy's girl. Really. She looks like her papa Jet with lipstick.|
|Dread Pirate Roberts. We call him Bob.|
|Charlotte de Berry. Yes, that eye is blue.|
|Sadie Ferrell, aka Sadie the Goat. Yes, she is eating in public, but she is still a supermodel.|
|Belit. She and Red Sonja are hard to tell apart, but she is black and has a little spit-splash of white on her head.|
In the dirge-like service of the empirical application of the most current ethological-behavioral research (Clinique calls that burning) we hosted the first of our closely-engineered and highly technical puppy socialization optimization sessions.
Also, there were burgers, watermelon, corn from the garden, and beer. And we hoisted the Jolly Roger. Because SCIENCE.
The Crew were handled by 17 people, of whom 12 were entirely new to them, and three were below the age of reason. They hung out on the back deck, front porch, and two places in the front yard.
They ate their first solid food -- two meals of satin balls, one ounce of meat each at each meal, provided by a helpful volunteer who titrated access to cut down on the nom nom nom choke factor.
Uncle Cole stepped up to his role and began playing with them for the first time.
Their mother also began playing with them, swallowing their heads, and delivering love-nibbles.
And they got assigned use names for the next month or so.
Famous pirates, of course.
Without too much persnickety attention to the factual basis of any names or narratives. Because why spoil the fun?
Photos have been delayed by rolling technology failures, and the best ones are currently not retrievable. You got a problem with that, come to my house and fix all the computers and cameras and media cards.