Hi from Honey!

Hello everyone! Here are some old pix of Honey and the ducks. They say hi!!

Happy Birthday to Honey!!!!!!!!

Happy first birthday Honey! Her birthday is the 23rd, and her party is tomorrow. Big girl Flabby Labby!

I remember when we were taking Honey home last March. Here's that story when she was seven weeks old.............................................

We stepped into the smelly kennel. The man who painted our house, who breeds Labrador Retrievers and English bulldogs, had  already let the three female yellow Labs loose in the small kennel. There was a sweet little one, who was shaking a lot. The next one was bigger, sweet and calm.
David was holding the third pup. All of a sudden she bit his hand. David could see that she wanted to get down. Then when she was down, she jumped on my mom and scared her. Of course, David decided to get this one.
We had already planned to name the dog Honey--it was the perfect name.
 In the back of the car, with Diana and David, Honey was trying to get comfortable. Walking across our laps about ten million times, she finally settled down in Diana's lap and slept there, once in  a while opening one eye.

 Puppy dogs are naughty! I advise never to get a dog!!

 

(Almost) Merry Christmas from Honey!

Honey says, "Merry Christmas!" to all of you. This morning she had the best time shredding and eating a dead squirrel (Yes, she did eat it! Ewwww!). Here's a story about Honey's first swim at Silver Lake, Pennsylvania.


David, my brother and Honey's master, led the pup on the edge of a plastic dock, belonging to one of my mom's friends. (We spent five hours baking cookies at her house yesterday!)Not knowing what the water was or felt like, Honey jumped in. A minute later there was a whimpering, shivering and wet little then four month old pup called Honey. 
We finally got her to go in by letting her go up a large rock next to the dock.  She soon loved water.
Honey is right now trying to enjoy (and destroy) a large rolled-up rawhide bone. (She loves to enjoy and destroy these.)  


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As a child, my dad  had a boxer, and her name was Cleo. When ever my dad went out to skate, Cleo went and walked on the ice. She would get tired, and  sit down. Then she would get up and yell. She didn't like it when the cold ice touched her warm stomach!