HAPPY NEW YEAR!
MERRY CHRISTMAS AGAIN!
TIME WILL TELL
ON THE ROAD
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"
Friday, January 15, 2016
I knew the condition I would get them back in. I was not disappointed. Back they trailed in twos and threes, uniformly covered in mud.
Angel slunk in last. She was so covered in twigs and bits of conifer that all that was needed was a set of lights and a tinsel star for her to pass for a minute four legged Christmas tree. She was completely unrepentant and not at all helpful as I tried to remove the miniature forest , branch by branch. She had
collected them, and she would keep them.
Done at last and off she went to sulk. Angel, you must understand is truly and hopelessly spoiled, and sleeps round my neck like a furry scarf. (Fortunately she has not inherited her mother Solitaire`s interesting habit of…scenting the room frequently). She is totally arrogant, and is the only one not impressed by Plush having a family.
Plush, however, is quite enjoying the respect that being a mother earns for her from the others. Being a mother makes you important in the eyes of the pack. And she is doing really well. The two boys are now so big and fat that I would hesitate to weigh them in case they broke my little scales. And they are amazingly similar – might as well be twins. I will be interested to see whether the similarity increases as they grow up.
Meanwhile the weather is cold, and all is calm and quiet here.
All regards to you and the pretty ones there-
Barb in Texas