Not My Dog

When we arrived here there were new puppies from a yard dog. Trinda and son=me of the other girls started feeding and messing with them. Pepe took one home to his house fior a guard dog. Another cruiser took this one down to the vet for neutering and shots. But no one claims the black dog.

He is friendly and nice, loves attention and has even learned a few tricks. Hi-five is the worker boys favoriet trick with him. They normally completely ignore dogs, but since we domesticated this one they all like him.  BUT me!

Blackie - alias: Not My Dog

We are back to painting again. Maybe the last coat of primer before the glossy white and non-skid on the deck.

Every coat of paint or varnish has come with the muddy foot prints of a certain black dog, Blackie, also known as "Not my dog!". He is sure Trinda is going to feed him as soon as the paint compressor stops.

The not so dog proof barrier.

At first just the lower of the Styrofoam blocks was enough to deter him a while. But he soon learned to wiggle underneath. A bungee tied across the top stopped that.  Just to be replaced by carefully jumping over and landing on the narrow catwalk to the boat.

The first iteration of the double Styrofoam only lasted till the tide went out. The end of the catwalk came up and pushed the stack over.

Today the stack is well tied and with a bungee too. But a little rain, thunder and lightning, I don't have high hopes for a clean deck in the morning for the first coat of finish paint.