Remington Third Morning at Home

Rem does not like wearing the t-shirt. His bod just isn't shaped right for it. I started to make up a song about it:
He's a real t-shirt man,
Working on his t-shirt tan,
Griping all his t-shirt gripes to nobody.

I know, I know--keep my day job. Anyway, the neck pulls down on him so all the loose skin around his neck bulges out the top of the t-shirt and gives him a real fat-neck look. Plus it kind of pulls on his upper legs, and he can't stand going down stairs in it. I left him on the bed upstairs as usual--no sign of him wanting to come downstairs--but some time later heard very faint whines. When I investigated, he was sitting on the bed, looking at the chair-stair I rigged for him, not wanting to make even that 6" step down with the t-shirt on.

I got him off the bed, then it required several engraved invitations to get him down the 3/4 stairway to the main floor, and then he stood at the top of the 1/4 stairway leading to the office where his bed is, looking really annoyed. I had to put my hands on him and half lift/half push him to the first step, and he finally went down. Going up is no problem for some reason.

But this morning he's operating with his ears at their usual half-up, half-down, sometimes fully alert, stages instead of the flat-against-the-head the-universe-hates-me-I'm-really-worried look he's been wearing all week.

Photo alert: I have been taking photos of the poor abused dog but I don't have a digital camera so we have to wait til I get the film developed for them to appear on these pages. They'll be coming, though--