Oz

After several false starts, I finally got my “outside” legs back under me and was out all afternoon while Mom and Dad were cleaning up the yard.

Those two are going at this yard work at a pretty hectic pace. Guarding this pile of leaves is no picnic, either, though.

My first day back outside and I get my ass scared right off. Here I sense that something is wrong. Turns out my detector was a little too sensitive — it wouldn’t be until a half-hour later that Andy and Gabi’s dumb-ass dog, Vanya, would tear into the yard and scare a few years right out of me.

I managed to find my feet and avoid that dumb-as-a-bag-of-hammers retriever, dodging back into the apartment in full flight mode — stretched out to about 3 feet long and taking the steps all at once. Old, my ass. And I was not still shaking hours later. Just had a little muscle fatigue the next couple ‘a days, is all.

It’s winter; I’m sleeping; big surprise.

Full side shot of the prettiest bunny ever. Lookit how fluffy! Awwww …

buzz off.

I’ve been a real chicken this year about going outside. I hear the porch door open and I panic. I have yet to voluntarily venture past the carpet outside the door — this adventure also started by being carried bodily outside. I’m all alert because outside is scary.

No respect for an old man.