Not a guard dog
It seems I’m not a guard dog. Oh in my younger days, I’d bark madly with the best of them. Now, of course I do bark, but mostly at the wrong times. I’ll bark in Mum’s face when she’s trying to apply my eye medication. And I’ll bark incessantly if I don’t get my bedtime biscuit when I want it. But yesterday, Mum had been out. I had found myself a nice comfy spot in the garden room for a nap. As it turns out, I wasn’t doing the ‘snoozing with one eye and ear open’ thing. I was sound asleep. So much so, that when Mum came in she had to come to find me and then according to her, I just blinked at her with sleepy unfocussed eyes.
In my defence, it was a nice sunny spot and I was very comfortable. Also in my defence, Mum wasn’t breaking in. Now, if a stranger tried to come in, all hell would break out. At least, I think it would.
‘Puppy’ Training
Pebbles is off to puppy training this morning. I really think we should rename it as she’s not a puppy anymore. She’s well and truly into adolescence at just over 18 months old. Mum says the class they are in is lovely. Of course, some dogs do move on up to the next, more experienced class, but thankfully for Pebbles she has friends who seem to be as keen to stay in the intermediate class as she is. Toby the Shetland Sheepdog is definitely out-pacing some of the others. Mum says he’s lovely, but Pebbles says he’s not one of her close friends. Maggie the Labrador is her best friend. She used to have a crush on Dexter the Spaniel, but she seems to have got over that. Mum says, it’s funny as she’s not really one for the boys.
Mum still laughs about when she used to take Aristotle anywhere and all the girls would swoon. He had a special something, but it never seemed to go to his head.
Love and licks
Wilma
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