I had my first pet at the age of five. Cindy was an extremely loyal, though lethal, Doberman. An excellent watchdog, she died of a snake bite at the age of nine.
And so arrived Her Majesty Caroline.
And thus departed Peace, for Carey is a 'new-age' dog, not your usual 'i'll-sit-by-the-door-and-bark' types, in fact, we had to teach her how to bark!
Oh yes!I'd have to be like "Come on Carey,look!stray cow on the road!Bark!Bark!Dumb Dog!!".
To which, Her Majesty gracefully cocks one ear at me, gives me The Glance, and goes back to chewing whatever she's destroying today..
And it gets stranger. Peeing all over the house,stealing potatoes from the refrigerator, tearing clothes/books/mattresses/you-name-it and chewing on whatever she sees!This one keeps us on our toes!
(though she may help us with disposing off plastic one day,chew chew chew)
Talk of security?this one once freaked out on seeing a cat!And she can't stand thunderstorms, crackers and bizarrely, baraats!
Its not like I'm regretting getting her, she has her good points too!Like trying to keep us in shape by making us chase her when she steals something. Or reminding us we have to get the floor/bedsheet cleaned by doing her daily business on it.
Five and a half years in the running!
A little something for the readers:
Is your dog driving you nuts?
Making you run all over the place in this sultry weather?
Wish it would just calm down?
Switch on the Air Conditioner and watch it snooze stretched over your favorite couch.
I have a theory.
You know how the elder people always keep on complaining about the younger generation?how they're depraved and all that?(kalyug).
It might be true after all.
I mean,LOOK at the dogs this age has produced!