I went up to Fort Collins yesterday evening to visit my sister Susan and brother-in-law George and brought along a pizza and some beer. Susan and George own the original hounds from hell (Tutu on the left and Blackberry on the right in the photograph above). Don't let their size fool you - if they are locked in the kitchen and someone is eating pizza in the next room, they sound every bit as hellish as the brute in Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Hound of the Baskervilles. Of course, if they escape from the kitchen and jump on you, they will lick you to death instead of rip out your carotid artery, but trust me, both are equally unpleasant.
No comments:
Post a Comment