“WHAT`S THAT, BOY? TIMMY`S FALLEN DOWN THE WELL?”...
THE CALM BEFORE THE STORM…
Happy New Year
MAD AS A BOX OF FROGS
OFF WE GO!
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, February 21, 2016
…down the puppy trail. Already the fat little furballs are toddling about, trying to get unwilling adults to play, and indulging in ferocious puppy battles which usually involve trying to discover which parts of your brother are detachable.
Their mother, Plush, has already decided that she has fulfilled the original contract, and just watches from a distance, making sure no puppy is actually reduced to its component parts while placidly ignoring the loud screams and growls. I have been putting her in with them at night, but she is beginning to
suggest that this is cruel and unnatural punishment. She gives me that “There is life after puppies" look.
|"What can we get up to now?" (six weeks)|
|Plush and the boys at 4 weeks|
At six weeks they are beginning to develop character. Kaiju, (the little monster) is a pushy explorer, but always loses to his brother Figaro (loud and clever) in fights. Kaiju, left by accident in a room with no other dogs, marched up and down, barking and growling, claiming territory. Figaro, however, was the first to make the important leap of logic that my feet are as much part of me as my hands, and not large alien beings. Six weeks is an age of discovery. But due to the constant bad weather, not of the outdoors. Winter puppies do miss out on that.
At this stage I have no idea how they will turn out.
Wait and see.