Our luscious Spaniard is moving along…..

Tomorrow we part with Otter or Terry or just the gorgeous shiny boy.
The bendy banana from Spain is moving on and up – up to Aberdeen. Though he has been with us less then a month he leaves with a piece of each of our hearts.

 

Terry Never Looks Back.

Padding round the house he gets involved with everything, picking up a sock and carrying through to the middle the room, eating a little bite of kindling when setting the fire. If not Terry, or Otter or Paddy – the perfect name would have been “shadow” as he is never more than half a step behind – filling the washing machine he’s there, making a cup of coffee – hello! guess who is eyeballing and wagging, cooking, yes he likes to get involved there too.

When undressing at night he may wander off with a sock, take it for a wee tour round the living room, then deliver it back. Showering in the morning he will sit outside the bathroom and wait, rewarding you with a huge bright smile as you emerge deeply depressed at having seen your reflection in the full length mirror.
He is a joyful hound.

Every moment of every day he engages fully with every little thing. He is grateful to be alive and savouring every moment.
A life lesson for us all.
Even writing this I have tears in my eyes and that feeling in my gut. Tomorrow will be hard. Hard for us to say goodbye, I just don’t want him to feel our affection has been insincere in any way. It’s because we love the daft crater we are parting with him and we are happy knowing the joy he will bring to his forever family – though I will have large g&t and a bubble when I return home without his cheeky chops and watch out sausage dog Charlie Chorizo  you will be cuddled ’til you squirm.

Hide me from that over affectionate sobbing woman.

Death row dog v spoilt sausage dog.

So all is settling well in the world of our new Spanish death row boy.

The battle for supremacy albeit subtle is ongoing between the sausage who has been King of the Hill for 3 years. He may be small but he has an iron will. New boy is eager to please and capitulates as a rule but there was a Clash of The Titans – entirely My fault.
I took out a ballA tennis ball which Charlie Chorizo Sausage dog loves and I threw it.
Despite the weather being cold, wet and windy naively I thought they would run about and Charlie would teach him to retrieve.
Twice Charlie got the ball. Third time Terry – Spanish hombre aka Speedy Gonzalez –  got the ball and came rushing back but didn’t understand I wanted him to drop it. So he ran off  again skidding to a halt in front of me 2nd time round  and within a second he realised he was expected to release his quarry and dropped it. He is bright. Very bright.
Sadly when he did drop it, like a petulant spoilt brat Charlie threw a wobbler.

They went at it.
The noise was worse than the result.
They rolled, lunged and snapped. It sounded like it was a fight to the death.
It wasn’t – but it was the first contretemps in the shifting status as we watch with interest who ends up being top dog.

I already realise it won’t be me.

Observation:

Terry on close inspection has battle scars. He has nicks out of his ears, the bridge of his nose and tufts of shiny skin above his eyes. His hair is dull and scraggy and it looks like someone trimmed up his curly hairy face with a pair of toe nail clippers to disguise his Wooky like chops.  I look forward to watching his health and vitality emerge.

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