The bloke and I have spoken many times about potentially acquiring a canine addition to our household. After our recent visit to the Seattle-based diaspora of his family, we conclude that Humuhumu’s vote on the matter would be an unequivocal “yes”.
Poor Telstar is another matter, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.
In the meantime, I present Humuhumu with Boris the big floppy former stray and Eve the skittish sled dog.
Boris-based mobility assistance.
More mobility assistance.
A passing Boris is a pleasant sight.
Eve greets Humuhumu with nose kisses while cousin John looks on.
Everyone happy in their own little worlds.
And also when their worlds meet.
Tonight Humuhumu receives her “report card” at the parents’ evening at the nursery. I’m sure she will score perfect tens on Dribbling, Peek-a-boo and Deathgripping Stuff She’s Not Supposed To Have.
We're still debating. In some ways it'd be nice to have a purebred - there are some gorgeous Weimaraners nearby and all the farmers in the area keep border collies, which are lovely dogs too. But there are so many nice mongrels looking for homes. So "medium-sized rescue mutt" is our most likely option.
Hah, that reminds me of the last Christmas we were in Norfolk. We went to dinner with a group of people after a shoot, and I asked the farmer next to me what sort of dog we should get. "A black lab behtch," he replied. "She'll look after yeh." :D
It was so sweet! I couldn't stop snapping away. Yes, she did do that. She does it to Telstar too, and he gives me his pained, "I'm tolerating this, but I expect an extra helping of gooshy food tonight," look.