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Yay, it’s Friday. That means that P doesn’t work. That means I can schmooze some extra attention. This morning we went to Devonport – P thought she would walk along the harbour and check out the Louis Vuitton yachts (and crews no doubt!) Didn’t account for the gale-force wind and the cancelled days racing, so just a plain walk it turned out to be. Some interesting characters along the way, and then man-o-man, the ponsiest poodle you ever saw. Big hair and even bigger ego. Stupid French git stuck his nose so far up my butt he nearly got my tonsils – did I let him have it. And then the drama started – you should have heard the commotion. He howled and swore – never heard so many French expletives erupt from a odiferous canine mouth in my life! His owner was just as bad, but P did point out that I was on a lead and the Frenchman wasn’t, and we parted ways with P grinning and telling me how clever I was. Not much action after that – coffee at a cafe and a bit of muffin (thanks to the whipped-puppy look – still working a treat!) and then home. Me tired, and P (thanks to that gale-force wind) looking like the poodle!
Good for you bud! Abby would have been pround of the beating you gave the Frenchman! Poofters! We have a French tart across the street – she is still a bit young but she is growing her hair get the poofy haircut and then go to show. We call her PIA (pain in the arse. i mean she hangs with us trying to pretend she is a great dane but hell that doesnt cut the mustard!