|and now for some cute stories about my dog
||[Aug. 7th, 2017|04:03 pm]
My dad's just recently retired and he needs something to do, so he's been going round asking us all what we do for hobbies. And because 'I scream about fictional lesbians on the internet with like minded strangers' seemed like the wrong answer I suggested he could maybe get a dog. Dog ownership is very relaxing, I assured him. Unfortunately I said this shortly after telling him a long, elaborate story about the time I took Freya to Skye for the day, and she charged into the sea in pursuit of seals, freaked out when she was hit by a wave, and I had to wade in hip deep to rescue her. |
I stand by my larger point that dogs, by and large, are relaxing. I just happen to own the rarer highly stressful, if often hilarious variety.
I think I've said before that Freya's small for a labrador (that pesky spaniel ancestor again) but she is still the size of a springer spaniel. And although I had her neutered ages ago (the thought of a house full of little Freyas made me want to weep) there's obviously something about her that brings all the boy dogs to the yard. Her latest suitor is a teacup chihuahua x pomeranian called Sid, who I am seriously concerned Freya is going to squish if she doesn't realise he's behind her with his nose up her arse and sits down on him. God loves a trier, as my granny always said. And if Freya hadn't had the op I would be tempted to get the wee guy a stepladder and just wait to see what the puppies turned out like.
And tragically not dog related, a fic I have written:
The Princesses in the Tower (Elia Martell & Arianne Martell; ASOIAF)
King's Landing swallows Dornish princesses and chokes on their bones.
Rhaegar wins, Elia lives, and is not a happy bunny.
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