Sleeping Dogs

I’m on holiday. Well at least the sun is shining. I have just hung out a load of washing. Gabby the Romanian Shepherd Dog that I have agreed to foster, follows me out. She gulps some of the water that I put out earlier and then slouches back into the house.

Lilly is under the table, asleep and Gabby deciding that waking her up is not a wise move (sensible dog) slumps down in her own basket and fall asleep.

We have just got back from a walk. Once I worked out the complex arrangement of leads, Gabby has two, just in case, and Lilly has a longer one, it’s not too bad.

Patience is the key, and being firm. Lilly is very good, putting up with being bumped and banged into. She waits quietly while Gabby does her business, and I struggle to sort it out, getting all the leads tangled up.

Eventually I sort them out and we set off again.

There are other dogs out on the playing field. They see us and the smallest, who has waged a personal vendetta against Lilly for the last two years, comes yapping and bouncing towards us. Her eyes are fixed on Lilly, but its Gabby that is showing interest straining to give chase. Lilly gives me one of those looks. “My money would be on Gabby” she seems to be saying.

I call out to the owner, suggesting that she might want to call her little dog off. It would barely be a mouthful and I don’t need the hassle.

The dog decides of her own volition to call of the chase, and with a backward glance of defiance she trots back to her mistress.

Gabby calms down and we carry on.

Back home, I give them both a piece of chicken.

Back in the kitchen, I run a bowl of water and place it outside before emptying the washing machine. The weather is lovely, it would be shame to miss the quality drying time.

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