Polar Bear Update

Ruger kept showing up with eggs.  He has such a huge head, and he's such a galoomph, it seemed sorta cute when he'd prance up with a colorful orb in his mouth.  With a hand beneath his face, "Ruger, Ruger, spit that out.  Drop, Ruger."  This had been going on for several days, when Charles commented, "You know, if he ever breaks one of those and finds out what he has, he won't be bringing them to you any more."  The very next evening, there were zero eggs in the coop.  Same thing the next day.  The third day, he had the cliche egg on his face.  We don't yet have a perfect remedy for this problem, but we're working on it. 

"Has Ruger been in the coop?"
"I don't think so."
"He's licking his lips!  He's licking his lips!"

Ruger's Glamor Shots
5 months old

These six things doth the Lord hate: yea, seven are an abomination unto him: A proud look, a lying tongue, and hands that shed innocent blood, an heart that deviseth wicked imaginations, feet that be swift in running to mischief, a false witness that speaketh lies, and he that soweth discord among brethren.  ~Proverbs 6:16-19