Angel.
Angel is Grandma Nancy's dog. He has recently moved in with us because Grandma needs a break from dog-walking duties these days.
Marky likes Angel.
Especially because Angel came with all this loot.
But Marky seems befuddled by his new little buddy.
Is he really a dog?
I mean, can he bark like this?
Can he pull a tree up by its roots?
Can he catch a snowball with his bare fangs?
Can he burn rubber?
Can he smell this putrid?
Apparently not all dogs are descendants of the bold and mysterious wolf.
We've actually traced Angel's DNA
to this.
Don't get me wrong. Marky, like most dogs, has suffered cuteness at times.
He has a girl, Sarah. And, well, sometimes cute happens.
But for the most part he's a serious chicken-protecting dude.
At first, Angel was curious about the ladies.
But on closer inspection,he found that they are bigger than he is, and pretty darn scary.
So he prefers to stick to the things he does best:
Keeping me company and
looking cute.
