I spent Father’s Day with my dad. Since I am devoid of children myself at the moment, I took my puppy along. (For those of you keeping notes, Ricki is almost two years old but she acts like a puppy. She’s [mostly] Aussie Cattle Dog, and according to anecdata I have, she will retain this behavior until about three weeks after she dies).

This is not a picture of her from yesterday, but it’s pretty much the face she makes.  I’ve compiled this handy list.  The four faces of Ricki:

• Happy (see above)
• Startled
• Holy Crap Look At Me Dad!  Dad, Dad!  I’m Poopin’!
• The Patented Aussie Cattle Dog Death Stare, which causes spontaneous human and bovine combustion

I’m endeavoring to capture each of these faces and make a handy guidebook in case you encounter a Ricki in the wild, but I fear that any attempt to capture in digital form the last (or should I say, final?) face would end the world.  Or at least there would be an increase in conspicuously un-charred bits of legs next to piles of ashes in bookstores around the globe.  Maybe I’ll save that release for Christmas.