Wordless Wildlife Wednesday: Underground


a skolarly treetis on how the gofers tried to destroy my howse!!!

hello nice reederz its dennis the vizsla dog hay wile evrywun wuz distrakted by nitemarez and elekshuns and wotnot it seems that the gofers or sumbuddy tuk the oppertoonity to try to destroy my howse or at leest my yard chek it owt!!!

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Greetings, quivering civilians!  We still have visitors, and certain subterranean rodents seem to think that I, Saya the Mighty, may be distracted during this period, thus allowing their sappers and tunneling saboteurs free reign in my yard.  How wrong are they?  Very.  THERE IS NO BURROW THAT SAYA THE MIGHTY CANNOT FURROW!

Saya the Mighty out!

a skolarly treetis on wot the hek has happend to my bakyard

hello nice reederz its dennis the vizsla dog hay sum may hav notisd in reesent pikchers that my bakyard is not as green as it yoozed to be bak wen trixie wuz keeping it sayf frum eevil perpetraytors and yoo no wot??? its troo!!! the fotografik evidense is inkontrovertibul!!!


my bak yard wunse upon a time wen trixie wuz in chardj


my bak yard now that saya is in chardj

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Having returned last week from my long sojourn in space, only to discover that my position at the university has been eliminated and my office reassigned, I am now faced with the daunting task of winning back all that I have lost … by playing the all-too-human game of golf. And unlike the time I accidentally turned flyball into a human sport, there is no way for me to fix things by changing the past. I must compete on human terms, or lose my office, my position, and my key to the faculty lounge … forever.

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