Oh doG

By this weekend, I'll be on a boating holiday in Warwickshire. To give myself a headstart on the trip, I've been rereading Jerome K Jerome's Three Men In a Boat -- To Say Nothing of the Dog. I'd forgotten that the dog in the subtitle is a fox terrier.



"Fox terriers are born with about four times as much original sin in them as other dogs are, and it will take years and years of patient effort on the part of us Christians to bring about any appreciable reformation in the rowdiness of the fox terrier nature." Amen

I got me a dog

And it's comfy.
All hail the conquering Queeni.

Lying in state

Here's how Queeni watches TV. Note that the royal head needs a pillow. All that's missing is Rupert peeling her grapes. I don't have to do the bit where I stand in attendance and fan her gently because she's lying on the part of the couch that gets the draft from the airconditioning.

Sheer laziness

Getting three legs out of four up on the couch with you aint bad.

Digging up bones

This was what was found under the sofa. Twice as many bones as dogs -- and that's just what was kicked under the sofa, there's more scattered about -- in different varieties of textures, shapes and flavours, all for their chewing pleasure.

Dang, not only have they taken over the sofa, they've taken over the space under the sofa.

At home with Hockney

Photography courtesy of L

A conqueror's notes

When both humans are on the bed, try and wedge yourself between them. Then manoeuvre yourself to occupy the bed cross-wise. Make yourself as long as you can, stretch out your nose and your tail.

The humans will usually roll over and balance themselves on as little bed space as they can, without falling off the edge. Sometimes, you may even be able to prise one of them off the bed. They usually mutter something about going to the loo, and give you a sharp look as they stumble away. The loo is just an excuse. Victory is yours in terms of bed space.

When that happens, quickly occupy the vacated spot when it is still warm. But once it has lost its warmth, return to the remaining human and wedge yourself up against her. Take the spot between her legs if necessary, so she can't stretch them out properly.

It doesn't matter how much space there is left by the vacated human. The luxury of stretching out in that space is only temporary. The idea now is to take the remaining human's space.

And then the bed is ours!

Queeni's turn

Just playing fair and following up a pix of Roop with one of Queeni. She's lying by L, belly-up, all the easier for him to give her a tummy rub. You'd think from the expression on her face that I was interrupting something.

Spa dog

L was using a piece to tissue to wipe his glasses and when he finished, he conveniently placed it over Roop's face. Roop just went to sleep, presumably assuming that someone turned off the lights.

Downward dog

It's easy. Just use the cushion as a yoga aid.

Oh, and all those bones next to Queeni do not belong to her. They're all Rupert's. HRH decided to annex them even though she doesn't really have the teeth for them.

His 'n' hers

And on the days that they don't want to share (read Queeni, really), he goes to his corner (in his crate) and she goes to her corner (on the sofa of course, she's the Queen).

If you can't make out what Queeni is doing, she is lying on her back, belly and all four legs up. Yup, she is revelling that the couch is hers, all hers. Queens are like that.

You take the high road, and I'll take the low road

... we'll put that stuffed dog between us and together, we'll share the couch quite nicely.

Bearing fruit

Somewhere in the housing estate across from my office is proof that teddy bears really do grow on trees.

Is this bag me?

L was putting away the grocery bags when he decided to put them on Roop instead (don't ask me why). Then he filled one with toys and slung the handle round Roop's neck. Roop, of course, managed to contort himself to get the toys out.

This probably means that it's a bad idea to have Roop carry home the shopping, he'll only get the stuff out of the bags and eat them on the way home.

Drats. Back to the drawing board.

There isn't enough room in here for the two of us

OK, I know, this is really Rupert's crate. But as Queen, it's completely natural that I can annex it and roll around in it. Why should he have a crate that is bigger than mine? Even if he's bigger than me? I'm the Queen! And then that stupid serf has to barge his way in. How's a royal to get her beauty sleep?

Security

... is a dog sleeping on your tummy.

And a human to lie on.

Portrait ... with food

The only way to get a picture of the two dogs together is when somebody else is eating.

Psst, look behind you

It's that impostor again, isn't it?

Sofa, so good

What, you want to sit on our sofa too?

Royal disdain

None of that hoi polloi cab sauv stuff for me, thank you. But a bordeaux, perhaps a Chateau Lafite, would be nice.