Man’s best friend.
But. If you get one with a pedigree, then, not so much. And, if you have to look after somebody else’s pedigree, even less. Not that we have a pedigree dog, or rather, not one we paid actual money for, but this little mite has all the quirks and foibles of a pedigree dog, without the pedigree papers.
I like dogs. Like cats more, but dogs fill a different role in a person’s life. They are more involved, and more dependent on you than any cat. They like to be close, and there’s no welcome like a dog’s welcome.
That being said. I have a few breeds that does absolutely nothing for me. Not because they’re not good dogs or not cute dogs or ugly or anything, I just don’t like them – mostly through dealings with other people’s dogs. Sausage dogs are one of these breeds. Never thought my doorstep would be darkened by a sausage dog of any kind. Shows you how much the Universe loves a good joke!
In March of this year, my mom stands in my garden, watering. I’m busy with something else at the back of the house. I hear her calling and come running around the corner. She tells me not to worry, my aunt has already gone to see if she could help. Turns out the being that needed help was an emaciated sausage dog. Not bad mange yet, but covered in fleas, burnt paws from walking, dehydrated – a walking skeleton.
Young dog still, but the poor thing. It really was the most horrible sight. Looked like he’s been lost in the streets for a while. Probably ran out of where he belonged and ended up in my street right at the time that my mom was looking out and just when my aunt needed something that she could call her own. She, I think, needed to feel useful as much as the dog needed somebody to take care of him.
Life went on, and the young man was nursed back to health with lots of tender morsels and egg mixed milk. He turned into a king that was coddled and looked after and made himself the ruler of the whole roost – Ben and Cujo included! He looks like one of Ben’s spots fell off but is as ferocious as a tiger!
And, he’s spoilt. Rotten. My aunt would make him porridge in the morning that gets given to him while he’s still in his little bed/tunnel thing. He parks on her every chance he gets. He has well and truly come home.
Then, the aunt went to Thailand. She’s there for three months. And I, Ghia, get to look after her menagerie. 10 rabbits. 2 chickens, 6 quail. And one sausage dog. He’s got a hard life with me. Gets food twice a day, no tidbits. Gets washed once a week, maybe. Gets petted when I get home. Is left alone all day. Gasp!! Outside! He does not go everywhere with me like he did with my aunt. But he does get to lie on my couch. Wrapped in his blanket.
Or curled up in my couch pillows. No, he does not sleep just like that. No way will he sleep just on the floor! He will sleep on a pillow. Or on the floor wrapped in his blanket. And he does not just lie on the blanket – he’s only happy when everything is covered by it…
He’s a handful. One I did not want or need. But he is quite the cutest dog, other than my Ben of course.
He’s lord of the manor, and everything else allows him 😉