Only two short months ago, Juno was grotesquely unkempt, her formerly-silky flowing black fur all dusty and matted and snarled full of bright green cockleburs. But look at her this afternoon:
She positively glistens! The only remnant that harkens back to her dirty days are the tangled pantaloons on her rear legs. I suppose the dognapper doesn't want to intrude upon Juno's private area. Yes, she's shiny as a new penny, if pennies were covered with black dog hair.
The reason I was able to get this photo is because, you see, Juno was snarfing up her beloved cat kibble on the side porch. Please disregard Hick's hoard. I don't know why Gassy G needs two snack tubs of propane. Nor do I know why there's a saucer that used to sit under a plant pot sitting on the porch like Hick gave the cats a saucer of milk. They should be so lucky. They barely get to eat their own cat kibble. And, to my great surprise, there's ANOTHER black roasting pan suitable for serving up cat kibble right there by the propane tanks. The Igloo cooler contains a bag of dog biscuits from the auction. It will come as no surprise to you that Juno and Ann both turn up their noses at such treats. It's like I feel about Auction Meat, I imagine. And I don't even want to know why a strip of roofing shingles is on the porch.
Here's my sweet, sweet Juno from another angle. Still as shiny.
Let the record shoe that Val does not normally let her beloved canine run around without a collar, like a common stray. Juno had a flattering bright red nylon collar, but Hick cut it off with his knife. That's because he couldn't figure out how to loosen it.
For someone who works with machines all the livelong day, Hick is sometimes not very mechanically inclined. We won't mention that "pooping out a headlight" debacle again.