‘Tater Thoughts': The Amazing Dog Blog. Photo Fantasy Edition.

Welcome to Episode #8 of: 'Tater Thoughts': Musings of a Golden Retriever.

From the fertile mind of Tater Tot Stephenson, the golden retriever member of the Stephenson family. (By the way, for the record, my mind is all that is fertile, following the neutering incident of 2020).

Well, Pops has done it again. He's successfully frittered-away about three weeks since my last communique and an opportunity to share some stunning pictures which will give you a glimpse into the riveting moments of my life.

First, check this out. I have a small doggie bed for when some of my shrimpy friends show up and want to nap. Imagine a lazy Pug or Shih Tzu needing to catch a few Z's before we romp around in the backyard. They don't slobber on my luxurious bed and this gives them all of the space they need.

Speaking of naps, Pops snapped this pic of me with somebody's hat. I couldn't tell who it belonged to by smelling it but it felt like a good fit and made me tired. It was either the hat or the fact that I was among 40 energetic dogs at doggy-daycare today.

What would you be willing to wear on your noggin for the promise of a delicious chunk of cheese? I wore this bizarre home-made facial mask turned headscarf. Couldn't wait to tear it off.

Oh, the shame of it all. Pops is belting out a montage of his favorite show tunes at the top of his lungs. I'm sure Alexa is considering pulling her own plug.

In this photo, I'm recalling the time I saw that squirrel in the backyard.

This rubber bone is loads of fun. It squeaks really loud when I chomp on it. So, if Pops and Mom want to watch a television show and actually hear the dialogue, he'd may as well just keep throwing it and then playing tug-o-war with me when I retrieve it. If not, I take the whole family to 'Squeaky-Town'.

Ok, back to the blanket. All this time in the spotlight is taxing. Until next time, when I demonstrate the finer points of digging a hole so deep, I'll either strike oil or find ancient fossils, which I will, of course, chew on.

Tater Out.