image from Patricia at agence eureka
Chunk (formerly known as Dribblechin) is as different from
Batdog (formerly Newdog – for the ears) as can be.
Batdog is slim, elegant, with dainty paws and a beautifully
modeled skull. Chunk is, well…chunky. Big paws, big chest, big everything including
a blocky head and wide snout (and teeth…oh boy has he got teeth). When he feels affectionate enough to throw
himself at you, which is quite often, it’s not unlike getting hit in the chest
with a well-aimed sandbag*.
And, at eighteen months, Chunk is still very much a puppy which means that he has not yet learned subtlety. Or much of anything else. What Chunk sees, Chunk gets.
And, at eighteen months, Chunk is still very much a puppy which means that he has not yet learned subtlety. Or much of anything else. What Chunk sees, Chunk gets.
He’s giving Reserve Cat a nervous breakdown. There has been no aggression or biting, but he
follows him everywhere and lies across the head of the stairs so the cat can’t
get into the kitchen. This morning he
trapped him in the laundry room, whereupon Reserve Cat learned that he can’t
fit behind the freezer any more, poor old fat bastard. He got wedged, Pooh-like, just behind the
front legs and I had to pull him out.
(*why yes. I have).