But I feel sorry for this guy.
When he started moving, he walked with a horrible lurch. I don't know if he'd broken his leg or dislocated his hip or what, but his laborious movement was the most pitiful sight. He won't be long for this world with a lame leg, poor thing.
Just between you, me, and the lamppost . . . this guy is welcome to nibble on the lilac tree any time he wants.
Dinner last night: tater tot casserole (I know, I KNOW . . . but my husband cooked dinner, so I'm not going to say another word)
Exactly two years ago:
Exactly three years ago: