Just remind me of this in a few years if we ever contemplate having puppies here again:
I really don't like puppies.
There's a brief period, somewhere between 3 and 6 weeks, when they're kind of cute: eyes open, toddling around, interacting with their environment and the people in it in a gentle endearing way. Then I don't mind them, apart from the mess they create.
But by 6 weeks, they're starting to get annoying. They have sharp scratchy nails, they jump on you and bite your fingers, and they dig holes under their pen gates and create havoc around the garden. They tip over food bowls and make an exponentially bigger mess every day.
Squig to Evie- "Look, something soft and vulnerable..."
Then, somewhere around 7 weeks, BANG, it happens!
"Bite it! Hard!"
Their adorably soft, uncoordinated little bodies become strong, fast driven instruments of destruction. They no longer totter unsteadily on their hind legs as they try to clamber up your legs- they launch themselves a foot in the air to tear holes in your shorts. They observe with touching interest all the goings on in their world- watering of veggie seedlings, repotting of little trees, feeding of chooks- and then hurl themselves into the action and try to wreak as much destruction as they can.
"Tear it, shred it!"
In the space of one short week, "Puppies!" has changed from a welcome invitation to fun for BabyJ and the big dog gang to a threat, now met with horrified faces and swift retreat.
I suppose this is a deliberate ploy by Nature to ensure that those that bring puppies into the world and rear them for their first weeks don't get so attached that they never want to let them go. It's certainly worked well here- I was quite sad last week when Dark Girl headed off to her new home, but now all of us, two legged and four, are counting down the days until the remaining little monsters start their new lives.
Why the sad face, BabyJ?
You don't want the puppies to leave?
"No, I don't want Squig to take my fingers with her!"
Dark has gone to be a sheepdog in the district, eventually to replace a dog R bred years ago. The others will mostly be sheepdogs, and there's one Token Agility Dog. They're all getting called by their new names now, apart from the TAD, who will just have to stay the TAD for a while longer.
"Bye, Dark!"
"Be a good girl!"
So we're stuck with this lot just a little bit longer:
Boy, Squig and Evie:
Evie:
Boy- now known as Drift:
Watch out girls, Drift's coming through!
Drift and my ex-sock, with Gem in hot pursuit:
Gem (formerly known as Squee, or "that pup with the blue eye spot")
Gem and Evie:
Squig- butter wouldn't melt...
... because she'd shred it and tear it and destroy it long before it had a chance to melt.
Squig- "small tasty child, you're blocking my dog walk"
Squig and my ex-sock, Gem still in hot pursuit:
Gem finally catches my ex-sock, and now has Squig, Evie and Dark to deal with:
Squig: "They stole my sock, before I had a chance to destroy it!"
Gem- front, Squig, behind:
Thank God for the big dogs. Fred has had enough of having his dangly bits molested, and shows an amazing turn of speed when he sees the fruit of those same loins approaching (and the fruit of the fruit of his loins, if we want to be technical). But Muddy is still game, and Jim actually loves puppy-sitting. BabyJ and I usually take Jim as a diversion when we go puppywalking.
Muddy, trying to persuade the girls that his nipples are purely ornamental:
Muddy, trying to persuade Drift that he's ferocious and the bone is his (he failed dismally):
Jimbo, our puppyshield:
And finally, for all those lovely people/unsuspecting bunnies waiting eagerly for their own little piece of this action, I'd like to present our formerly lovely verandah hibiscus:
Hope you're all ready for them!
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