Saga of a woman old enough to know better who lets her life be governed by the ridiculous hobby of breeding and showing dogs, musing on life, the twenty first century, Cameron and his mini-me, and the occasional sheep.

Saturday, July 15, 2006


I left my handbag on an outside table for a moment. I forgot that Chin can climb like cats.

Shelby had.

I came out to find him strutting around with the spoils. My purse had been removed, and Shelby was sporting a mouthful of euro notes. The rest of the contents had been dragged out and worked over. The iPod had been crunched, but still worked.

The Papillons had of course helped. The guilt was plain on their faces, as was most of my lipstick, which had obviously been very tasty. They quickly melted away into the scenery before judgment descended.

Shelby doesn`t know guilt. He wagged his tail happily. He`d had such fun.

I`m going to have to keep everything somewhere near the ceiling somehow.

Meanwhile, I`m wandering about with one bare foot. And one sandal.

I think Shelby has struck again....
I'm sitting here giggling. Not at all kind of me, is it? But Papillons with lipstick ...
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