Hm. I dunno. I don’t see the resemblance dad. I think the artist in #cowboybebop really didn’t have much experience with corgis. They don’t capture the essence at all.
Unlike most other canine breeds, the Pembroke Welsh Corgi has an extraordinarily strict requirement for what it deems as an allowable habitat. The habitat must have, primarily, easy access to multiple sources of treats. Without treats, the corgi soon begins to wither away, which has been a well documented phenomenon. This corgi has an additional deer antler lying on the floor, just out of frame of our camera. Additionally, the wild Corgi requires near-human grades of bedding in order to thrive. As you can see here, if at any point her body were to touch the primary resting surface (a couch, in this instance) she would be forced to relocate elsewhere. In the scenario above, it would most likely be her human compatriot’s bed quarters, so that she may lay on his pillow and came it as her own, in efforts to protest the inadequate alternative lounging environments.
Can *I* have some strawberry frozen yogurt bar dad?? I promise I won’t snatch it out of your hand if you do! But if you don’t… I might try to snatch it out of your hand. No promises.
My furiend @foxmandu_corgi’s mommy was holding a treat. We were being extorted! We were subjected to performing cheap tricks just for a delicious bit of dried salmon! It’s down right cruel! *forgets all about it as I eat said treat*
What do you mean, you’re going to work? Your Outlook calendar says that you have a 0600-1430 “snuggle at home with Lili” appointment today. It looks like you’re just going to have to reschedule! Clearly, this takes priority.
#tbt to Lilikoi’s business retreat to Deception Pass, Washington, where she was stunned to find our profit margins on the return on investment on balls thrown was 100 percent!
As I lay, chin resting on the threshold that leads to a world I hardly know, I ponder the sheer vastness of the existence beyond, and am paralyzed by the sheer vastness of it all. Who am I, a corgi of flesh and stumps, to receive the divine privilege of the canine experience? To be bestowed with a consciousness that allows me to take in the extraordinary wonders and beauty of a life so pure and breathtaking, surrounded by nature both infinitely complex, and simply elegant. Indeed, these stumps may not be long, nor my digits opposably pawed, but my grasp on what it truly means to corg would be insufficient regardless. For all my ponderings, I am no closer to God. No, only through experience, through the adrenaline fueled rush of a rousing game of fetch, or the sublime bliss of a good post-feeding belly rub do we truly experience the holy.