Dave took this picture and I feel like I should be tossing holy water on the dog. It looks like Zack is slowly being sucked back home to the seventh layer of hell. He's phasing out of our existence. I'm sure the UPS lady will be grateful.
He was running from me and his monthly flea drops. Dave calls it Pest A Palooza and finds it endlessly entertaining as our seventy pound dog flees (or is it fleas?) in mortal fear from the three drops of flea treatment with me in pursuit. I finally got him this month with switch and bait. I held out a Puparoni treat and when his snout was sniffing my left hand, I grabbed him with my right to apply the treatment. Dave snapped this picture as Zack tried to shake of the drops.
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