In which Susie Shortlegs finds a home, and Az is cleverer than he looks.
That didn't take long! The second time I walked Susie through the village, we ran into one of the residents, who was most interested to see from Susie's 'I need a Home' lead that she was available for adoption. That evening when we arrived back from our evening walk there was a card on the doorstep enthusiastically asking how to go about applying to adopt her. Adopter is a retired lady who is around the place a lot of the time, so just what the tiny womble is used to in her previous home, only with rather more walking to keep her trim and healthy. Ideal!
As adopter only lives round the corner, it was easy for me to do a home visit, and we are now set up for Susie to go home on Thursday once her new owner has cleared a couple of things that need her to be out for the day.
Susie shouting at her squeaky chop:
She's very, very small:
And not *that* quick, but trying hard!
One thing that interests me about Susie is her attitude to flies, flyswatters and loud noises. She is a real flyhound, and will leap a foot or so into the air (OK, still not very high, but surprising given her physique) to try to catch a fly.
We've got one of those electric flyswatters, which philmophlegm loves dearly, and my hounds hate, as it makes a loud cracking noise when it hits a fly. They hate it so much that they flee as soon as he picks it up. Susie, on the other hand, thinks it is brilliant. As soon as he picks it up she leaps up and starts wagging and barking to encourage him. She is definitely 100% behind philmophlegm in believing that flies should be destroyed as quickly as possible, and she doesn't seem at all bothered by the noise.
This seems to carry over to thunder too, which most dogs hate. We were out the other day, walking, when there was a sudden rainshower. We hid under a tree to wait it out, but then suddenly there was the most enormous clap of thunder, right overhead. The hounds were terrified and fled in all directions at top speed. Susie, however, just barked furiously at the sky! Fortunately, there was only one thunderclap so I was able to get the scared hounds back with no problems.
And speaking of dogs behaving differently, I just had one of those odd moments with Az, when I wonder what he makes of his people and suspect it might be more than I generally give him credit for.
I was looking for my wallet, which I'd once again put down somewhere, as you do. Az was standing near me, so I asked him where it was - not really expecting a reply. He wagged at me. philmophlegm then told me that he, philmophlegm, didn't know where my wallet was, and I told him that actually, I was asking Az, not him.
philmophlegm then alleged that a) Az was less likely to know where I had put my wallet than him and that b) Az was also less likely to reply to a conversational question of this kind.
So then we (ie, me and philmophlegm) had a brief discussion about how handy it would be if I trained my dog to find things I had lost, such as my wallet, and how this would be an uncharacteristically useful thing for me to train my dog to do....
Az is standing there listening to all of this. And wagging. So, I said to him 'you could learn to find my wallet, couldn't you Az?'. At which point, he trotted over to my shopping bag, which I had hung from a hook, and prodded it in a decided manner. And he was right, that WAS where the missing wallet had got to! I've never even thought about teaching Az the word 'wallet'!
Good grief.
As adopter only lives round the corner, it was easy for me to do a home visit, and we are now set up for Susie to go home on Thursday once her new owner has cleared a couple of things that need her to be out for the day.
Susie shouting at her squeaky chop:
She's very, very small:
And not *that* quick, but trying hard!
One thing that interests me about Susie is her attitude to flies, flyswatters and loud noises. She is a real flyhound, and will leap a foot or so into the air (OK, still not very high, but surprising given her physique) to try to catch a fly.
We've got one of those electric flyswatters, which philmophlegm loves dearly, and my hounds hate, as it makes a loud cracking noise when it hits a fly. They hate it so much that they flee as soon as he picks it up. Susie, on the other hand, thinks it is brilliant. As soon as he picks it up she leaps up and starts wagging and barking to encourage him. She is definitely 100% behind philmophlegm in believing that flies should be destroyed as quickly as possible, and she doesn't seem at all bothered by the noise.
This seems to carry over to thunder too, which most dogs hate. We were out the other day, walking, when there was a sudden rainshower. We hid under a tree to wait it out, but then suddenly there was the most enormous clap of thunder, right overhead. The hounds were terrified and fled in all directions at top speed. Susie, however, just barked furiously at the sky! Fortunately, there was only one thunderclap so I was able to get the scared hounds back with no problems.
And speaking of dogs behaving differently, I just had one of those odd moments with Az, when I wonder what he makes of his people and suspect it might be more than I generally give him credit for.
I was looking for my wallet, which I'd once again put down somewhere, as you do. Az was standing near me, so I asked him where it was - not really expecting a reply. He wagged at me. philmophlegm then told me that he, philmophlegm, didn't know where my wallet was, and I told him that actually, I was asking Az, not him.
philmophlegm then alleged that a) Az was less likely to know where I had put my wallet than him and that b) Az was also less likely to reply to a conversational question of this kind.
So then we (ie, me and philmophlegm) had a brief discussion about how handy it would be if I trained my dog to find things I had lost, such as my wallet, and how this would be an uncharacteristically useful thing for me to train my dog to do....
Az is standing there listening to all of this. And wagging. So, I said to him 'you could learn to find my wallet, couldn't you Az?'. At which point, he trotted over to my shopping bag, which I had hung from a hook, and prodded it in a decided manner. And he was right, that WAS where the missing wallet had got to! I've never even thought about teaching Az the word 'wallet'!
Good grief.