Hey, Sailor!

Emilio plays bridge with Robert (and was one of my phone-bank Obamarobos last year), and he and Hugh were going on a cruise while their regular dog-sitter was out of town. . . .

So here we are. His name is Sailor, an Australian shepherd with one ice-blue eye and one nut-brown, and he's the perfect gentleman. Except for a drinking problem: out of the toilet. And like some others I know, he also drools on the floor.

Despite vigorous daily brushings, he sheds. By the time Emilio and Hugh get back in a week or so, I'll either have enough raw material for a sweater or a very good start on another dog.
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Aside: BAPTIST CHILD TO MOTHER:
Is it true that 'Out of dust we come, and to dust we return'?
Yes, son.
Well, then someone's either coming or going under my bed.