A Little Thing I’m Thankful For … (Snapped by the Roomie at our old apartment in 2008.)
Just chilling on the doggie couch.
Hamlet the hound. What should this little critter be for Halloween?
Taking advantage of all the nice days with more walks along the Charles River and trips to Harvard Square with the pup in tow. (Today, I’m working on an anthology submission, and he’s chilling out in the sun.) Days like these make me second-guess whether I really do want to leave this all behind, but then again, I’m already dreading the end of fall — it’s imminent! — and the season has only just begun.
New England weather: so fickle, so cruel. I’m not sure I’ll ever become acclimated to you.
Photo credit: Patrick Hamm
Patrick thought it would be funny to tuck the dog into bed with me.
(Pretty sure he took this during our Berlin trip last summer. He has an extensive collection of photos of me passed out in various states of undress. They’re not nearly as sexy as they sound.)
Some early relationship nostalgia from my first year with the boys! Snapped off my then-Macbook in October 2008.
P.S. I tag any Patrick-related posts with “How To Love A German”, except I just found one entry tagged “How To Lose A German” … ? This should clearly be the title of my break-up blog if he dumps my ass.
So … the dog does this adorable thing in the morning/early afternoon. We have a skylight that leaves patches of sun throughout the apartment. On sunny days, Hamlet will follow the “sun spot” as it moves down the stairs and plop himself down wherever it goes. (His little body just so happens to fit perfectly within each step in the staircase.) Here’s another photo of him sunbathing.
Old vacation photo: shot while hiking in Lech, Austria last summer with the pup. Yes, the very top was covered in snow … it wasn’t bikini weather.
Photo credit: Patrick Hamm
My dog’s ass is cuter than your face.
Photo Credit: Patrick Hamm
Okay, so, I’ve determined that the next loved one who will be senselessly attacked for their association with me will be none other than my favorite furry beast. I’m not sure Hamlet is mature enough to understand what’s going on, though. HOW DO I EXPLAIN BIGOTRY TO A FIVE-YEAR-OLD?!
