This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
Perhaps it’s because I’ve been away for a couple of days and she’s missed me… but this bleppy dog wanted lots of cuddles and reassurance as we prepared for the school run, this
Twenty-Fifth of Bleptember.
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
On the Twenty-First of Bleptember this young doggo was very excited to see a field of goats. Goats! I like to interpret her expression as saying “OMG have you seen the thing
that’s living in this field!?”
An inquisitive and excited expression let down only slightly by the inevitable blep and by a tentacle of drool! 😂
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
It’s the Twentieth of Bleptember, and I still struggle to conceive of how it’s comfortable to lie down with not only your head but also 50% of your tongue lying flat on your soft, furry
pillow.
(This troublesome young lady stole and tried to eat a dry-wipe whiteboard pen yesterday. She’s fine, but it was briefly alarming when she started vomiting bright green ink everywhere…)
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
It’s the Sixteenth of Bleptember, and our derpy doggle’s back from a playdate with her best friend… although you wouldn’t know how close they are from this picture, in which she seems
to be blowing a raspberry at him as she walks away!
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
It’s the Fifteenth of Bleptember, and our young doggo has never looked so inelegant as when she lies on her back on the sofa with a dorky tongueful grin on her face.
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
A lazy Sunday morning this Fourtheenth of Bleptember provides the perfect opportunity to dogpile onto a convenient nearby human… and gradually dampen their trouser leg with your blep.
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
It’s the Thirteenth of Bleptember, and the bleppy young pupper is watching television. She enjoys the shows with dogs, of course, but also the ones with other animals whose silhouettes
stand out against the background, like birds in flight. All Creatures Great and Small is a particular favourite.
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
It’s the Twelfth of Bleptember, and our little blepper has tucked herself away tidily, wrapped up in her snuggly warm jumper, to hide from the torrential rain that’s beating down across
Oxfordshire. Oh, and her tongue’s sticking out, of course.
This post is part of 🐶 Bleptember, a month-long celebration of our dog's inability to keep her tongue inside her mouth.
When our doggo carries around her chew toy like this, I always think she looks a little like Winston Churchill with his cigar. If Churchill also wasn’t able to stop blepping, that is!
Happy Eleventh of Bleptember! (This one’s not going out on Mastodon, at least not immediately, because I’m having some Internet difficulties at home right now!)