"Maybe I ate too much......?"
FAMOUS FOR FRESH AIR AND FUN
"Japanese ladies do NOT eat bird`s leavings - unle...
RAINING RATS AND DOGS
A BEAUTIFUL VILLAGE
WHAT I`M READING...LE PAPILLON & LE PHALENE - GRAND COEURS EN PETIT TAILLE - Jean-Marie Vanbutsele
THE LAST FILM I SAW....
" PACIFIC RIM" - great fun. Gojira meets Neon Genesis Evangelion
FAMOUS FOR FRESH AIR AND FUN
"Japanese ladies do NOT eat bird`s leavings - unle...
RAINING RATS AND DOGS
A BEAUTIFUL VILLAGE
EMAIL ME .
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"
Sunday, July 04, 2010
MOVING ON
Well, Riot went to her new home yesterday.
On the way we visited another little dog, a son of Marcus who closely resembles him. A happy little fellow with lots of toys and not a care in the world – but a picky eater, who had refused his dinner that day. We went into their garden, and he invited Riot to play. She said she would – then, having studied him rather closely, broke off and went into the house. She reappeared with two dog treats, stolen from his personal store, and proceeded to eat them in front of him. He was puzzled, the innocent. Would she share them?
She favoured him with a look I have seen often before. It is the essential look of a Papillon bitch communicating with a male. She is saying “You are a male and therefore my inferior. All treats, toys and other privileges are now mine by right. You on the other hand, have no rights. Welcome to my world”.
He stared, and enlightenment began to dawn. He rushed into the house. We found him gulping down the rejected dinner, glancing around nervously. The penny had well and truly dropped. I thought it wise to remove madam Riot, who was already eyeing up his toys and bed.
Riot, however, is now the proud owner of a mother and daughter, a pink bed, a pink jewelled collar and a lovely house and garden. Perhaps that will satisfy her.
Fidget is maturing rapidly, and yesterday managed the leg elevations that are essential to the adult male.
His career in the ring approaches rapidly.
And Allegra is contemplating a romantic assignation.
Lots of potential there.
On the way we visited another little dog, a son of Marcus who closely resembles him. A happy little fellow with lots of toys and not a care in the world – but a picky eater, who had refused his dinner that day. We went into their garden, and he invited Riot to play. She said she would – then, having studied him rather closely, broke off and went into the house. She reappeared with two dog treats, stolen from his personal store, and proceeded to eat them in front of him. He was puzzled, the innocent. Would she share them?
She favoured him with a look I have seen often before. It is the essential look of a Papillon bitch communicating with a male. She is saying “You are a male and therefore my inferior. All treats, toys and other privileges are now mine by right. You on the other hand, have no rights. Welcome to my world”.
He stared, and enlightenment began to dawn. He rushed into the house. We found him gulping down the rejected dinner, glancing around nervously. The penny had well and truly dropped. I thought it wise to remove madam Riot, who was already eyeing up his toys and bed.
Riot, however, is now the proud owner of a mother and daughter, a pink bed, a pink jewelled collar and a lovely house and garden. Perhaps that will satisfy her.
Fidget is maturing rapidly, and yesterday managed the leg elevations that are essential to the adult male.
His career in the ring approaches rapidly.
And Allegra is contemplating a romantic assignation.
Lots of potential there.
Comments:
Any word of how the little soul has settled into her new home? It sounds as if she has struck lucky!
Yes. she has taken over and they ae very happy with her. I always worry when the older ones go - baby puppies easily adapt - but Riot has taken it all in her stride...even meeting their neighbourhood Newfoundland.
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