As you know we have four dogs.
Tony Montana, Tommy Gun, Rocky Balboa and Miss Cleopatra.
I think their names are pretty self explanatory but for those of you who are new to my blog let me explain.
The three boys are all Maltese Poodle Cross breeds so they look small, soft and fluffy (and they sort of prance around alot)
So we decided when they were just puppies that we would give them tough names so they would grow up with the "I might be small and fluffy but don't mess with me attitude"
Tony Montana was the first to join our family.
He was a tiny ball of pure white fluff with these big black eyes.
There was a litter of four and he was just sitting there looking at us while the others were ripping a newspaper to shreds.
I picked him up and turned to Beauty and said "say hello to my little friend".
Any movie buff will know that this is a line that Tony Montana says in the movie Scarface and it was a source of much amusement to everyone who heard his new name.
Over the years it has been shortened to Montana and believe me when I say that he has more attitude than Al Pacino could ever have.
Tommy Gun joined our family a year later as Montana needed a friend.
The lady at the pet store tried to steer us away from him as she said that he was the runt of the litter and that she was sending him back in the morning as he should have been put down at birth.
Of course he came home with us and I hope to this day that the pet store owner remembers how disgusted I was with her.
He has jet black hair with a fine white stripe down his chest.
Tommy never grew very much and he had a habit of just suddenly running really fast from room to room like a bullet from a gun.
Miss Cleopatra was a gift to my daughter Beauty from a boyfriend past.
She was moving to Melbourne and Cleo was going to keep her from getting too lonely.
The move did not last long and Cleo came to live with Montana and Tommy.
Beauty won't admit it but she was the ugliest little dog.
Fortunately she had these beautiful Cleopatra eyes and super long eyelashes.
She grew up to be a beauty like her owner and she would laze around all day and lap up the attention if you let her. She acts like she is royalty.
Rocky Balboa is the product of Montana and Cleo.
She gave birth to 6 puppies with Rocky the last one born and he was huge(double the size of the other puppies).
It was obvious early on that he was a little slower to learn than the others but he was the most loving and affectionate.
He is a pale cream colour and his fur feels like cashmere as it is a mix of Poodle, Maltese and Silky Terrier.
When it came time to find homes for the six puppies I noticed that The Knight always held him back from the viewings.
When I asked him what was going on he said that it was time to face the fact that he was not completely normal.
He was worried that the new owners would not understand and that he would be mistreated.
He said that he knew that I did not want any more dogs but keeping him safe and loved with us was the right thing to do.
So Rocky Balboa, slightly slow but loveable, makes four.
This brings me to the subject I wanted to talk about.
It has always been impossible to walk our dogs and it will always be impossible to walk our dogs BUT I JUST CAN'T SEEM TO STOP TRYING.
Yesterday I was shopping and saw the best dog collars in the world.
All of our dogs have just been clipped so nice new collars would look great on them.
I purchased an assortment of eight because I was not sure of neck size (without the fur) and I was worried that the studs and charms and diamentes on some might make them to heavy.
I came home pleased with myself but as I unpacked them reality set in.
I remembered how Montana loves to walk and prances along until he sees a flower or a piece of paper or a bird and his OCD sets in and he just stops as still as a statue and won't move.
I remembered how Tommy runs so fast that he nearly chokes himself and races around every tree ten times until he's tied up like a kidnapped victim.
I remembered how Cleo loves to walk but has to stop and watch every butterfly, smell every flower, smile at every bird, flutter her eyelashes at every one who walks by and this has taken her a leisurely 30 minutes and we are still only 10 houses away from home, all because she didn't want to leave in the first place.
And then there is Rocky. As soon as the lead is clipped on he is in enemy warfare mode. Dodging and weaving to hide behind every tree, gate and passer by. Barking at EVERYTHING.
As I put the collars back in the bag I feel so mean but then I really think about the life the four of them have.
They have four completely different personality that we have adapted our lives around.
They eat better than we do sometimes. They formed a mutiny about three years ago and went on a hunger strike to make sure we outlawed dog food from their diet. The Knight who is a chef, cooks them one of their favorite dishes every night. Chicken breasts, spaghetti, fried rice, omelets, beef stir fry etc etc.
They take car rides to visit with their Maltese cousin Donna and she comes and stays with them on holidays four times a year.
They wander around inside with continual outside access to a huge backyard with lawn to run, play, dig(Tommy) and sunbake on(Cleo)
There are flowers to smell (Montana) and ball games to play.
Butterflies and birds and bees and snails to discover, watch, sniff, lick and learn about.
Rocky can bark at the dog next door and only gets yelled at once a day.
Every night Montana goes out into the backyard at dusk and watches the bats arrive to sleep in the big tree and then barks for a full 5 minutes just to let them know that they better be gone by morning.
But the most important thing I realize about them is that they are so very, very loved.
They don't need flashy collars.
They don't need to be put through another disatrous walking experience.
They are happy right here at their home.
Tony Montana, Tommy Gun, Rocky Balboa and Miss Cleopatra.
I think their names are pretty self explanatory but for those of you who are new to my blog let me explain.
The three boys are all Maltese Poodle Cross breeds so they look small, soft and fluffy (and they sort of prance around alot)
So we decided when they were just puppies that we would give them tough names so they would grow up with the "I might be small and fluffy but don't mess with me attitude"
Tony Montana was the first to join our family.
He was a tiny ball of pure white fluff with these big black eyes.
There was a litter of four and he was just sitting there looking at us while the others were ripping a newspaper to shreds.
I picked him up and turned to Beauty and said "say hello to my little friend".
Any movie buff will know that this is a line that Tony Montana says in the movie Scarface and it was a source of much amusement to everyone who heard his new name.
Over the years it has been shortened to Montana and believe me when I say that he has more attitude than Al Pacino could ever have.
Tommy Gun joined our family a year later as Montana needed a friend.
The lady at the pet store tried to steer us away from him as she said that he was the runt of the litter and that she was sending him back in the morning as he should have been put down at birth.
Of course he came home with us and I hope to this day that the pet store owner remembers how disgusted I was with her.
He has jet black hair with a fine white stripe down his chest.
Tommy never grew very much and he had a habit of just suddenly running really fast from room to room like a bullet from a gun.
Miss Cleopatra was a gift to my daughter Beauty from a boyfriend past.
She was moving to Melbourne and Cleo was going to keep her from getting too lonely.
The move did not last long and Cleo came to live with Montana and Tommy.
Beauty won't admit it but she was the ugliest little dog.
Fortunately she had these beautiful Cleopatra eyes and super long eyelashes.
She grew up to be a beauty like her owner and she would laze around all day and lap up the attention if you let her. She acts like she is royalty.
Rocky Balboa is the product of Montana and Cleo.
She gave birth to 6 puppies with Rocky the last one born and he was huge(double the size of the other puppies).
It was obvious early on that he was a little slower to learn than the others but he was the most loving and affectionate.
He is a pale cream colour and his fur feels like cashmere as it is a mix of Poodle, Maltese and Silky Terrier.
When it came time to find homes for the six puppies I noticed that The Knight always held him back from the viewings.
When I asked him what was going on he said that it was time to face the fact that he was not completely normal.
He was worried that the new owners would not understand and that he would be mistreated.
He said that he knew that I did not want any more dogs but keeping him safe and loved with us was the right thing to do.
So Rocky Balboa, slightly slow but loveable, makes four.
This brings me to the subject I wanted to talk about.
It has always been impossible to walk our dogs and it will always be impossible to walk our dogs BUT I JUST CAN'T SEEM TO STOP TRYING.
Yesterday I was shopping and saw the best dog collars in the world.
All of our dogs have just been clipped so nice new collars would look great on them.
I purchased an assortment of eight because I was not sure of neck size (without the fur) and I was worried that the studs and charms and diamentes on some might make them to heavy.
I came home pleased with myself but as I unpacked them reality set in.
I remembered how Montana loves to walk and prances along until he sees a flower or a piece of paper or a bird and his OCD sets in and he just stops as still as a statue and won't move.
I remembered how Tommy runs so fast that he nearly chokes himself and races around every tree ten times until he's tied up like a kidnapped victim.
I remembered how Cleo loves to walk but has to stop and watch every butterfly, smell every flower, smile at every bird, flutter her eyelashes at every one who walks by and this has taken her a leisurely 30 minutes and we are still only 10 houses away from home, all because she didn't want to leave in the first place.
And then there is Rocky. As soon as the lead is clipped on he is in enemy warfare mode. Dodging and weaving to hide behind every tree, gate and passer by. Barking at EVERYTHING.
As I put the collars back in the bag I feel so mean but then I really think about the life the four of them have.
They have four completely different personality that we have adapted our lives around.
They eat better than we do sometimes. They formed a mutiny about three years ago and went on a hunger strike to make sure we outlawed dog food from their diet. The Knight who is a chef, cooks them one of their favorite dishes every night. Chicken breasts, spaghetti, fried rice, omelets, beef stir fry etc etc.
They take car rides to visit with their Maltese cousin Donna and she comes and stays with them on holidays four times a year.
They wander around inside with continual outside access to a huge backyard with lawn to run, play, dig(Tommy) and sunbake on(Cleo)
There are flowers to smell (Montana) and ball games to play.
Butterflies and birds and bees and snails to discover, watch, sniff, lick and learn about.
Rocky can bark at the dog next door and only gets yelled at once a day.
Every night Montana goes out into the backyard at dusk and watches the bats arrive to sleep in the big tree and then barks for a full 5 minutes just to let them know that they better be gone by morning.
But the most important thing I realize about them is that they are so very, very loved.
They don't need flashy collars.
They don't need to be put through another disatrous walking experience.
They are happy right here at their home.
Designer dog collars on ebay soon!
1 comment:
You forgot to mention that Montana would only walk along the walls of the house for a full six months at one stage.
Cleo always has to sit higher than all the other dogs when they're on the couch.
Tommy is a tightrope walker..
And Rocky.. Well Rocky falls off the couch whenever he barks because he scares himself.
Ahh.. You gotta love them.
Post a Comment