"The Perfect (Wedding) Storm"

For those of you dear readers who do not suffer from "Molly Obsessive Disorder" (MOD) please be kind enough to read our first-paw account of mom's "wedding" to her precious darling
NEVER-A-BAD HAIR-DAY NBC Foreign Correspondent, Richard Engel.
Simply click the "MODS" link under "My Blog List" (featured up top/right)  to read all about OUR Royal Wedding by scrolling down till you this picture. And more: 'Tis THAT EASY. (snuffle, snort, giggle, hork!)

We need you, dear readers, to pretend that, for the sake of modest propriety, we are sincerely displaying  wedding pics on our own Blog to keep it "in the family." (When, actually, we are sleep-typing and accidentally pressed a wrong button: TELL NO ONE!)

WHO LOVES YA, BABY?
YumYum of the HayDesert
Hey, Hey, HEY, HAY! "WHEEK!" DESERT!

Our Wedding Pictures JUST IN!

Popie-Pie, Raj, and Taj Mahal respectfully await the Bride and Groom, although Taj (far left) appears to be hiding something while Raj (far right) suppresses giggles every time Popie says: "Pupu Platter"...
Hmm, some of those black olives were a little...NAH! Perish the thought!

While Popie makes his stellar entrance as our "official Ring-Bearer" he also appeared to be flirting with
an awful lot of the She-Camels who thought his Tux was the bee's knees; Popie did, indeed,  play the camel crowd quite well!

Each Bedouin, foreign correspondent, and wedding guest went home wearing these stunning party favors to match their Desert Robes! MODS:  this coulda been YOU! But you were there in spirit, right?
Of COURSE you were...we thought as much.

So, thank you for allowing us to share our "Special Day" with all of you because it really was everything a
little Southern girl dreams about...spitting camels showing off in front of a magnificently tuxedoed
ring-bearing doggie flown in on a military jet owned by his proud parents; the bride "covering her face" beneath Richard's stunning long robes (for reasons of traditional modesty, respecting the culture) while mortar rockets explode...Oh, and there's NOTHING like that special ambiance of a desert sandstorm blowing goats into your covered face and hair, EGADS!...you know, MODS, it really did all come together exactly as
as we dreamed.

Thank you again, Lor-I-Kink, for Popie and his dramatic F/A 18 Hornet jet arrival, although we did catch on the evening news that your jet was mistaken for American Intervention on behalf of Nato (Never Attempt Telling-off Ogres) and confused the regime and rebels terribly: no one could find Intel on a tuxedoed doggie in the cockpit, triggering so much chaos and befuddling both the rebels and oppressive dictator, thus bringing the NOT-war to a grinding halt, pending definitive intel of Unidentified American Intelligence Dog. That makes no sense, and yet it stopped the WAR... and since war makes even LESS sense, Peace props
to Popie, Raj and Taj Mahal!

And photo credit belongs to Lor-I-Kink, our Official Wedding Photographer! Thanks, Yountz!

(P.S. What are the symptoms of e-Coli poisoning from mistaking fecal matter for black olives on the Poo-Poo Platter?)

WHY ASK WHEN YOU ALREADY KNOW THE ANSWER?!

"What happened to the 'no hay in mom's bed' policy, Calvin?"

"UMmmm, thought it was 'don't ask and i don't tell' is that wrong?"

"Kinda ya, Cal, cuz I can SEE IT now and know I'm gonna be Sleeping with it LATER!"

"OH, thank goodness, had me going there for a minute, mom, love you..."

"I love you, too, Calvin. Can you please fetch the hand vac for me?"

"Oh mom, no, I am snuggled and about to take a nap, using my hay bale as a pillow.
Can you just get it?"

Sigh...

Who's a Handsome Pig? Calvin's a Handsome Pig!

On Mom's Bed With Crumbs Still On My Lips, MMmmmm, NICE!

Who Rescued WHO? or WHOM? or...just, "All You Need Is Love"

In animal rescue, peeps who take in special needs animals are spoken of as having "rescued them." But, what if the rescuer herself has special needs? In mom's case, we are pretty sure Calvin rescued her! We offer today's photographs as our evidence and rest our case: YOU decide! And let us know. WHEEK!

WE SHARE.

COCONUT CUSTOMIZES HER NEW "DIGS"

Ever since losing Erica, the herd has been grieving and generally "out of sorts" and so we did a co-ed experiment allowing MacTheNutPie to move in with her. He's neutered and they play together on Runabouts but we had never co-housed piggies who were not lawfully married. They hit it off, except that (it being her cage, after all) Coconut has been rearranging things so that, basically, she can do everything she wants without leaving the comfort of home: ergo, she moved her cuddle cup to be near her sippy bottle, then yesterday cracked us up by hauling her BoxHouse inTO her cuddle cup so she now enjoys a canopied bed adjacent to food and water...she's been quite magnanimous allowing MacTheNutPie to share, she's just insisted that all home decor be her way! Fortunately for the couple, Mac's a mellow guy. So, all is well in the Coco&MacNut Household and we are happy for them. Guinea pigs can die of grief; Mac saved her life. We hope Pappa and MammaPie give him his due for such heroism under pressure. Little Mac, we love you!

BLOGSTIPATED NO MORE!

Dear Friends, For nearly one month we have been unable to Blog to you. It has been a dark and stormy Night for us. Because we missed all of you. GOOGLE made a boo-boo, admitted it, and said they would fix it. When they didn't, they received my Sermon on the Mount of Blogstipation. No, it wasn't pretty. Nor was it concise and probably none of you even bothered to read it! But, you know who did? SchmaGooglites! And they quaked and they shivered because we also threatened to cut off their latte supply from STARBUCKS! Oh yeah. I never claimed to be a saint. A piggie gotta do what a piggie gotta do. Now we can Blog again. And I am happy.

But will I be for long? Mom said she has been hearing me cry at night in my sleeping bag and might take me to the vet when she and Edwin go up there to pick up Erica's ashes... (Geez, Mom, nothing says "Happy Birthday" like CREMATION!) It has simply been a severe, prolonged case of BLOGSTIPATION and who would not cry after a month of THAT? So, I hope they do not schlep me up to the vet. Nonetheless, we are Back! Since mom's best (non-virtual) friend, Susan, is also Birthday-ing tomorrow, she will visit Wednesday then Edwin arrives for 5 whole days of GLEE!

HOW DO WE LOVE EDWIN? WHO CAN COUNT THE WAYS? It's like he is one of us. He has insomnia so his bed is relegated to the living room adjacent to our cages and the man is one little Party Animal! He stays up all night with us teaching us that it's O.K. - in fact - a good thing, for us to whistle, squeal, scream, wheek, chew on the bars of our cage, and become completely unglued ALL NIGHT LONG if it keeps mom up because she'll also keep feeding us to get us to quiet down! Last time Edwin was here it took her two weeks to get us quiet at bedtime! She threatened Edwin. He did what he has been doing for 20 years, quietly ignoring her if he sees her pie-hole open and notices sounds emerging from it! He is wise amongst Men. So, if we are not Blogging before next week it is because we are "in training" for Mischief and Mayhem in the "School of Edwin!" SQUEEEEEEE! We can hardly wait and - believe me, you're sure to hear all about it! WHO LOVES YA, BABY? YUM-YUM LOVES YA! AND WE'S NOT BLOGSTIPATED NO MORE! WHEEEeeeeeK! HappyFeetDancing!