Nina put in a request on Twitter for more pictures of Smidgen, and seemed surprised when I was like, OKAY THEN! Do you guys honestly think I need much encouragement to post pictures of the cutest greyhound in the history of greyhounds*? Come on. You know me better than that.
So, above, we have yet another photo of Smidgen sleeping. Apparently, opening Christmas presents is exhausting. Also, FYI, I totally knitted that. It's a snood. For the dog. Lord help me, what have I become?
Smidge getting her pose on. Yes, she has two different coats. Because apparently *that* is what I've become.
This is pretty much her facial expression for the entire time she is (a) in a location other than our flat, and/or (b) in the presence of anyone who is not me or Fin. She's "shy" (for which, read a total wimp). Awwwww.
Okay so Smidgen isn't technically in this picture, but let's get real: there is no way Fin and I would be going for a walk at dusk in the middle of winter if it weren't for her. She might not be in it, but she's in it.
Wow, this walking business is sooo tiiiring. (This is seriously how she sleeps.)
And finally, her favourite spot in the whole house. She likes to poke her nose over the back of the couch and make big, sad, starving-puppy eyes at us in the kitchen, until we take pity on her and give her a nibble of whatever we're making. Unless it's pork, in which case there are no puppy eyes sad enough to outweigh the vile, toxic stench of the farts that would inevitably follow. That's dog ownership, folks. G.L.A.M.O.R.O.U.S.
(You might also want to admire our Christmas tree in the background, which I officially declared The Gayest Christmas Tree in Edinburgh. It even had disco balls on it, and the word "NOEL", which in the absence of a proper Ë could just as easily be a reference to Noel from Hear'Say as a nod to the festive season. I kind of miss it.)
*I have no way of verifying this.
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