Naptime

Naptime

I remember, when I first brought Odd Trundles home, I was worried Miss B might dislike the idea of sharing attention with another pooch. She took one look at the tiny, drowsy, wiggling bundle and lights in her doggy brain turned on. I know about this! I know this!

Her former owners bred her when she was too young–she still has issues from the malnutrition and stresses that placed on her body. (I never did find out what happened to her puppies. I suspect the worst.) She is a very maternal critter–the cats are treated as puppies, any visiting children are treated as puppies, and Odd Trundles was mothered from the moment she laid eyes on him. She taught him bite inhibition and how to sit, groomed and snuggled him, watched over him in the yard and socialised him, taught him his place in our pack. (Firmly at the bottom, but he’s happy there–he never suffers a moment of discomfort wondering where he belongs.) I still think he survived his difficult puppyhood because of her tender care and snuggles.

Nowadays, of course, he sometimes reminds her he is All Grown Up, Thank You, And No Longer A Puppy, as evidences by his seasonal alopecia (that’s the pink patch on his side). I suspect, however, that to Miss B, he will always be that tiny bundle of fur.