The snores continue

Petunia is sacked out. She snores gently the couch, her front paws curled back under her forearms. The weather turned unexpectedly nice this afternoon, and we made it out into the neighborhood and the nearby park. There Petunia snuffled, shuffled, waddled pulled and otherwise tried to get her own way. And luxuriated in the attention from complete strangers. Her stump of a tail quivers, slowly, as kids and adults fawn over her, indicating her bliss. If she would only restrain herself from rearing up and knocking over little ones, as she is wont to do in her excitement, all would be well. But now she rests from her exertions, soon to start her dog dreams.

Saturday morning

It feels right to begin this exercise while Petunia, the not-so-eponymous but nonetheless leading lady of the blog, has wedged herself once again into the space between MJ and the couch cushions. Her preferred spot is to drape herself flat over MJ's upper torso while MJ naps, but once the morning coffee arrives, MJ props herself up and Petunia rolls over into the nook. Snores and sighs of contentment percolate up for the remainder of the morning.

I guess I should rewind a little...Petunia is an English bulldog. She turned 2 on June 10th, and weighs about 40 lbs, which is on the small side. MJ and I laughed over the expression 'mama threw a mini' when we first heard it, but apparently there are fans of the breed who insist there is a legitimate subcategory of bulldogs who qualify as "mini's." Personally, I don't know what is wrong with the word 'runt.'

Ah, blogging in real time, Petunia has just switched spots by staggering over to me, and then collapsing with a thud, her jowls resting against my side. What is not to love about this dog? My left arm rests delicately on her head as I type.

This is a blog dedicated to Petunia.