It's almost that time of year again! Time to dress up and greet (scare to death) the trick-or-treaters that are foolish enough to ring the doorbell at the house where three crazy labs reside!!!
I have had so many great costumes over the years. Of course, there were a few years that weren't as exciting as others. Bear with me as you look at these pictures. Most are pics of a pic since I was too lazy to hunt through all the files for them. Instead, I cracked open each year's scrapbook and tried to snap a decent photo. Let's take a w-a-l-k down memory lane (Shhh! Don't say that word aloud around here or you'll be in big trouble!) . . .
On my first Halloween I was Count Dawgula . . . Woof! Woof! Woof! (You kind of need to say that like the Count on Sesame Street to get the full impact.) I look pretty royal and regal sitting up nice and tall like that, don't I?
The next year I was a Beach Bum in my super cool doggles.
Then I was Hank the Cowdog, from a popular children's book series by that same name. This is one of Mommy's favorite photos of me ever. I think it still hangs on Grandma's fridge (at least it was the last time I was there).
I took a year off for my fourth Halloween. We were in an apartment in between houses and my parents were afraid I would get too riled up for the neighbors. [sigh] I made up for it the next year when we were settled into our new house and I was Super Dawg, able to leap over small sofas in one bound.
Years six and seven were kind of a bust too. I had surgery on my knees those years (probably because of all that leaping as Super Dawg the previous year!). I guess you could say I went as a Cone Head both years!
My eighth Halloween was an election year, so I showed my support for my candidate by wearing a patriotic bandana that matched our jack-o-lantern.
For the last two years I have been the horse ridden by the world's smallest cowboy. I like this costume best since it stresses me out the least. I have the feeling it will make an appearance again soon.
Stay tuned for this year's surprise . . .