who's that?

Who is that furry little thing curled up under my desk? I stretched out my foot and what do I touch but the soft little head of RubyRoo.

She is fast asleep, exhausted from the drama which unfolded this morning: both of them decided to roll in something disgusting in the garden and then come inside and share the aroma. It was mind blowingly putrid. Into the bath, both of them, the kids threw the towel from the doorway, wouldn't even come close enough to pass the towels to me... and there I was, in the thick the the fuggiest fug ever!

Bathtime is always stressful when your mother is washing off your most favourite perfume!

Couch Potatoes

Just look at these two! Would you believe I took this photo at about 8am. They had been asleep all night and now they are just taking it easy, laying back on the couch. That's Ava on the right: on her back ... again! Legs spread, relaxa-dog, never feels vulnerable in whatever position she's in. And little Ruby is all tucked up in a ball on the left there. That is typical Ruby... always a tight little ball of energy, even when relaxing.

Sleepovers

And then last night when I went in to check, I found this.

We wondered where the dogs were last night...

Middle Man came in and said
"Huge sleepover in my room last night!"
"Really, who slept with you?"
"Both dogs of course," he says.

Little Man had claimed the very same thing...

But I'm not going to bring that up... it will just cause yet another argument...

Introducing Ruby...

After writing that last entry about Ruby and her bunny, I got to thinking that perhaps you might like to know who Ruby is.

Well.Ruby is Ava's sister.

They are chocolate spoodles and they are our 'girls'. If we had had girls, they be called Ava and Ruby. But we didn't, and so we have our boys and our girls. They are the most darling little creatures. Ava is very intense, very possessive, very affectionate. Ruby is fun loving, young, energetic, mischievious. They are sisters.

They arrived together at the airport in one of those big carrier boxes. We had told the boys that two girls were coming to stay with us...

"What are their names?" they asked.
"Ava and Ruby."
"Oh. Why are they coming?"
"Just for a holiday, but if they like it, maybe we could ask them to stay forever. "
"Hmmm... what about their mum and dad... won't they miss them?"
"Oh, sure they will, but they have many many children and it is hard work to look after them all and when we said that we love girls and didn't have any, they offered for us to have Ava and Ruby for a visit."
"Oh."
Silence.
"What do they look like?"
"Well, they both have brown hair and brown eyes I think. Their hair is curly like their mums hair. They are only short, like... so short, you could probably pick them up even!"
"Oh. Like dolls."
"Sort of."

When we got to the airport, the boys were looking at all the children."Is that them? Is that them?" And even when we had the crate and were picking the puppies up in our hands they were still looking for 'the girls'. Not until I said 'Hello Ava and Ruby. Welcome to our family" did they understand that these gorgeous little puppies had come to stay.

And so it is... our two boys and our two girls (and dour chickens, and our mice, and our guinea pigs and our fish...)

Where is Bunny?

Bunny #1 came to us a long time ago from Father Christmas. But over the years she has lost a leg or two, a couple of arms, even a torso. So when I found this NEW bunny, exactly the same (BUT BIGGER) I had to bring him home for Ruby.

As soon as she saw him, she took off out into the garden with him and rekindled their friendship.

Well, loads and loads and bucketloads of rain and this morning I found bunny, securely deposited under the mouse house and substantially covered in dirt. Did Ruby bury bunny to keep her safer than the last bunny? I felt so terrible picking her up, like I was reading someone's diary! I washed her off and now she is on the line dripping away. Ruby keeps looking up at her, wondering I suppose when she is going to come down and in fact, how she got up there.

Some things are just a mystery, even to dogs.

This little dog...

This dear little dog came along and visited us as we lay enjoying Cabarita Beach in the holidays. "Oh! A sausage dog! I love sausage dogs!" screams my neice in excitement. We all gathered around him and gave him loads of affection and attention.

He thanked us by peeing on my bag.

I don't what it is with me, but I have had soooo many dogs pee on my things while I am at the beach. I must have some smell to me that attracts them. Soon I'll be the crazy sheila on the beach with the gigantic zip lock bag.

Oh dear!