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.
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.