A sign of the hard times - a dead Woolies
"Well, of course I spoke out! Someone had to!"...
My two, Boris and Calypso, training for the Oly...
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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.
"IN DOG YEARS, I`M DEAD"
Friday, January 30, 2009
No, not mine. The fields have been rented out, and five assorted cuddies, two with half-grown foals at foot, are chomping away at the ovegrown grass and weedy stuff.
My neighbour, having met the funny little mn who talked me into this, said "He`s an odd one. You know, the way he talks and dresses, he belongs in the fifties."
And so do his horses. Thoroughbreds they are not. They are of a type older people might think of as "vanners" - undistinguished light draft. Most of them are piebald,and almost everyone who has seen them has stared, and then said with a faraway look - "When I was a kid, our milkman had one just like that!" My puzzle is why anyone would want five like that.....
But they are quiet and friendly.
And the dogs are not. This is the excitement they have craved for months. It beats cat-hunting hands down. These invaders are so much bigger and smellier. Just the whiff of horse in the air is enough to set them off.
The horses couldn`t care less. They stare indifferently at the tiny screaming balls of fluff. They are not even curious about them. It infuriates my lot, who really need a reaction, preferably one involving terror and much galloping. When you have just put on a big production number involving your most horrible barking and jumping up and down, it`s very galling when the audience just snorts and produces a big pile of dung. (Although I think Merlin is quite reassured to see that the senior dogs make no more impression than he does.)
The last time they all came and leaned over the gate, Allegra screeched herself into a hissy fit and damaged a toenail bouncing about. The horses yawned a bit. Horses one, Papillons nil.
I`d like to think they will get tired and give it up, but I know them better than that. Until a bigger target comes along, they will concentrate on these poor beasties.
But mostly I just wanted to say Thank Goodness that Papillons are tiny little dogs!! If you had that killer attitude in, say, a Dane-sized body we'd all be in very, very serious trouble. :-)
As to Papillons, well each and every one of them knows he stands ten feet tall. A friend used to say that if Papillons were the size of Dobermans,they could bring down civilisation as we know it....
But the great thing about a small dog is that, whatever he is doing, he can just be picked up and taken away!
However she disappeared quickly the one time I left the back door open and one of them followed me into the kitchen (I had forgotten his daily carrots and he was not about to let me forget him...)
It took HOURS before she emerged from whatever hiding place she had found.
But they are driven and ridden also. Everything from hunter hack to barrel racing :-)