So in happy anticipation of my little people coming, I submitted to a Professional Grooming Fluff and Buff.
Obviously I went here:

And except for the part about "Self Serve", Nana did pretty well.  She dropped off me and What-his-name and we were fluffed and buffed.  Just for the record, I am already buff but I don't want to hurt Winston's feelings.

Winston was in trouble anyway because he flipped at the beach on his leash and Nana flopped face down in the mud and he took off to chase some stupid birds while I tried to help Nana get up.  I didn't really want to be seen with her or smelled with her but she had the keys.  Winston eventually noticed that Nana had her "face" on her and he was riiiiiiipe and no longer a white dog.  He came back and Nana marched his sorry self to the van and took us home.  She then proceeded to HOSE me and that rat-dog down with cold water and put up back in the van to take us to the Bath House. 

So, in terms of keeping score: Its Nana zero, beach 2.  Stay tuned. 

He copies everything I do, including looking cute.  Terminal cuteness.  And now Nana lets him get under the covers and snuggle for a hour in the morning while I just stand there. 

And he smiles like a dolphin.  Dimples, smile lines around his eyes.  Its sick.

But note to Winston...you are going to get shot.  Hahahaha.  Oops...A shot.  He gets A shot.

And my brother has a girl friend who takes him out and he is too young to be out walking with a girl and who knows what they are up to?  Nana seems okay with this, maybe even grateful and Grandpa is just whistling Dixie so I sit myself down by the window and watch out for them.

I doubt they are being naughty but these are uncertain times.  I am just saying...

So my brother's name is Winston. He is a British Cream Golden Retriever who will not return a thing.  Unlike me, it is not his dignity that causes him to not retriever. It is his contrary nature. I do not understand this as Grandpa is British and he Retrieves but Winston will not.

Nana says it is because his inhibition button is stuck on "I won't". Grandpa says it is because he is a badly behaved dog.  Nana says he is really lovable (ha!).  Grandpa says she is spoiling him. I say he is a badly behaved spoiled - rotten excuse of a dog.

Today was a perfect example.  I was minding my own business, sniffing the grass at the post box when Winston goes NUTS and I amble over to meet the Belgium melly-something and Winston is pulling Nana into what is clearly going to be a un-United Nations international incident and I am YELLED at to GET OVER HERE!. I miss out on making a friendship and get unceremoniously hauled home where I am scolded vigorously over something I didn't do.  Winston was the BAD DOG.  Not me.  Clearly I need Unca Bob because I want to Sue someone. Frank is busy but Sue should do something.  I need re-com-pense.  Instead all I got was a fence.  Bob.  Pense. Pence? Shillings Spice?  I don't know but Grandpa better call someone.

Pence.  Isn't he someone I should know?  I will call him.  He is probably not busy. 

Hello.  Contrary to the rumors, Dogs do have 11 lives.  Nana, unfortunately has only one so there is lots to tell you because she has been neglectful and she is sorry.

I have a brother.  He is ornery, difficult, obstreperous, a thief, chewer of pillows, eater of nails, inclined towards felonious behavior, cat chaser, bird stalker, tree climber, wood eater, jumper-upper, rabbit chaser (he ain't caught a rabbit and he ain't no friend of mine) (although in all fairness I chased the rabbit momentarily until I noticed it was a bunny) and sheds.

So.  Nana is shamelessly using my blog to flog her favorite shoes - which my brother ate (sorry Grandpa didn't know) which are Salt water sandals.  He ate the brown ones, not the navy ones because we are Navy people and they are out of the country and thus safe from his teeth.
Nana has other people - lets call them girls - in her life.  6 of them and they all had pink salt waters and they would wade in the ocean on Saturday and Nana would rinse them and the girls would wear them, bright and PINK to Church the next day.  Nana loves her salties and my brother got a FIRM discussion with the penny can (which scares the stuffing out of him and me) and Nana sprayed them with Bitter Apple and my brother will not be touching those again.

And now, those girls have girls and guess who wears salties? Yup.  All the girls.  And the boys, who will not wear pink are up the Creek without a paddle.

I have webbed feet so I don't need salties.  But I love them.  Secret.  Don't tell. bbfn. That is French for bye bye for now.