Redneck Thanksgiving

Meet Opie.

He is my son’s dog. My oldest is having one of those Thanksgivings where he had to go to the in-laws’ s house. Opie doesn’t do well at the boarding kennel, and none of them really do. Guess where he is spending his Thanksgiving.

He’s well mannered and trained, unlike my heathens. He plays ball like a pro, and is not allowed on the furniture.

Don’t tell my son, but he might be developing some bad habits.

This morning, he was feeling kind of lonely and neglected. He decided to crawl up with Otto and I before I went to work.

That’s Otto’s big butt off to the left. I’m surprised I didn’t have Frankie up here, too. She elected to go to her little Frankie bed instead.

The footstool doesn’t qualify as furniture, does it? I don’t think he’s being bad at all.

Tomorrow, my in-laws will be here, and they travel with two small dogs. My daughter is also coming, but I don’t think she’s bringing her cat. We’re all set up for a regular redneck holiday.

Winter storms are abundant, so I hope everyone is careful. I’d rather have them stay home than have an accident. My oldest and his family went to California. (Donner Summit is closed right now. Hope they can avoid a Donner Party Thanksgiving.) The in-laws are coming across the high Nevada desert, and my daughter has to come from Sun Valley.

Whatever your plans are, I hope you stay safe and warm. Enjoy family, good food, and even the dogs if you have that kind of family.