A night somewhat off
I NEED A NIGHT OFF. Sorry. I’m still cross-eyed from yesterday, or rather while I would have said I did have enough sleep last night the body, or at least the brain, is saying, no, no, no, nothing like, lock the frelling puppy in the crate and let’s go lie on the sofa some more. Think how much the poor puppy-oppressed hellhounds would enjoy this. Be generous. Be altruistic.
Hellhounds had a LOOONG sofa this evening while I read old gardening mags* and maybe dozed and I am now puppified** and having difficulty not doing more dozing which is dangerous in a straight chair and if I fell off it might discourage/alarm puppy. Puppy is already taking responsibilities seriously: I may have to change Pooka’s ringtone because Pavlova barks back. She also barks peremptorily in response to knocks on the door—and this afternoon, at thunder. She didn’t appear disturbed, merely suggesting that whoever it was was not necessarily welcome on her patch, and if it would reveal itself she would judge if it was to be allowed to remain. All this at less than ten furry little pounds.***
And if I don’t stop talking I will have to revert to textspeak. Especially since my choice is having only one available hand . . . or having gently snoring puppy head on keyboard. I need a puppy pillow.
So. Have a few links. This is from Sunday.
Love the body language. If Pavlova’s tail were going any harder in that first shot it would come off. And Chaos, who is still puppy at heart, is willing to give benefit of the doubt to potential (if presently diminutive) playmate but Darkness thinks they both need protecting from the DANGEROUS INVADER.
Gryphyn from the forum found this one. (Thank you Gryphyn). And I think it’s adorable. But in my evil spoilsport headmistress aspect I also want to know that that road they’re walking on is entirely car free and those car-like objects apparently parked at the kerb of a street in active moving-vehicle use are an illusion. Lego or papier mache or intense yarn bombing or something. Granted that my view is skewed by the fact that pound for pound whippets are the fastest thing on the planet†, as a rule of thumb all dogs are faster than all humans and no dog never breaks training. I hate seeing off lead dogs by the sides of roads.
And now two total irrelevancies. A friend sent me this one and it makes me want to go to seminary and become a vicar in Essex. But by then the post would probably have been filled. I probably wouldn’t be able to cope with the village characters anyway.
I don’t think this last one needs any comment. Ahem.
Thank you Katy Ryn Roberts. I needed to know about this.
* * *
* mainly this one: http://www.rhs.org.uk/Plants/RHS-Publications/Journals/The-Garden Of course I belong. If you live in England and either have a patio big enough for a flowerpot or just want to have lunch at a nice café with roses round the door^ it’s totally worth it.
** Upside down her ears are up.
*** If she were going to stay little, I’d probably think more about how to carry her. She’s actually very good about dangling serenely as I tuck her under my arm, but I do want to hold her there snugly just in case of sudden surges which means I can’t brace her against my hip or side. Dunno. But it’s not going to be relevant very much longer.
† Fastest dog anyway. Cheetahs are faster but they also weigh a lot more and I can’t do those complicated maths.
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