Grandpuppy Bonnie is in residence, and it’s great to have Margaret around to address her baby issues.
We’ve consulted with all the books, discussed Dog Whisperer Cesar Millan and even called upon the Canine Gods for inspiration.
Things went pretty well for several days until Miss Bonnie reacted poorly to some disapproval and regressed. Now, she’s getting the “crate treatment” and extra long walks twice a day.
Bonnie, who’s officially named Eugenia Victoria after the ill-fated child in “Gone With the Wind,” is just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. She’s a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel and looks like a tiny Lady in “Lady and the Tramp.”
Such pups grow up to be fabulous lap dogs, as evidenced by their presence in so many paintings of European royalty.
Brave Margaret brought her to Grama via airplane in a fancy pink-and-black carrying case. Bonnie didn’t give a hoot how good the carrier looked, she rejected the obvious implications of Dramamine and made her on-plane objections known for at least the first half of the hour-long flight from Houston to Jackson.
“If she hadn’t been so darn cute, somebody would have killed her,” Margaret admitted upon arrival. Payback for all those mewling infants on all those other flights.
I had to admit she did look pretty sympathetic, her little brown-and-white face sticking out the end of the carrier. So, now we have a baby in the house. She sleeps a lot, and we’ve figured out that a well-adjusted heating pad under her crate bed is just the trick to bring on a good ole nap.
Then, she likes to play – a lot. She’s amazed by sticks and the television (Margaret has foresworn such at her apartment as of yet).
She also likes to chew on us, so we’ve employed numerous attractive alternatives.
Lately, she’s taken to literally walking up my torso to lick all over my poor face. Also, when I’m seated on the couch, she’ll crawl around the back of my head, lie on my shoulders and try to chew on my hair. A city puppy, she was amazed on her first visits to my yard, which to a tiny dog must seem like the Plains in Spain.
She’s taken to her crate pretty well, and her puppy protestations usually don’t last very long. Margaret and I are so sadistic that we think it’s incredibly funny when she throws back that baby head, purses her baby lips and baby-howls mournfully toward the ceiling.
Earlier this week, she got a real workout from playful new canine friends at Mary Gardiner Tims’ house. We’ll do that again – the night after, she slept like she didn’t have a care in the world.
No, I do not want a dog. There are worst things than being alone, my grandmother, the beautiful and willful Rosalie Dial, said many a time. I don’t want the responsibility.
But it’s nice to have a youngster in the house again, especially when she’s so darn cute.
Contact Patsy R. Brumfield at (662) 678-1596 or email@example.com.
Patsy R. Brumfield/NEMS Daily Journal