Princess Sophie

Hi all. Hope you are having a woof-tacular week and you survived Monday unscathed. Have I mentioned yet that I hate Mondays? After having mum and dad all to myself all weekend I go back to being by myself all day (well except for the wretched BIRDS) with just a stuffed duck (so what – it squeaks – big deal!) and a dried beef strap (what tha!?) for company. Great parents they are!

This week is shaping up to be pretty special though ’cause at the weekend I get to have a sleep-over with my sister Sophie. I love Sophie, she’s my big sister, and when I say big I mean BIG – she’s 13kgs already. (I’m only 9kgs – I tell you my parents starve me – so you better watch it BIRDS – I’m not above quail – I am a BIRD DOG you know!).

Anyway I love staying at Sophie’s because Sophie’s parents are super cool – she gets to stay up late, hang out with the horse next door and fraternise with the neighbour’s chooks.

She also has a REALLY big yard with a dam – with REAL DUCKS (none of this squeaking fluffy soft toy rubbish) it is SO unfair. I could just point at those ducks all day long (ok look – I’d settle for chooks – but I refuse to lower myself to pointing at cockatiels – you hear that BIRDS!).

I’m sorry – do I seem overly obsessed with the BIRDS today? It’s just ’cause they’ve been driving me freakin’ crazy with all that stupid whistling, then tonight mum neglected moi to spend “quality time” with “his lordship” Kostya, to compensate for all the time she’s been spending with me since I arrived. Geez – I mean seriously – it’s a cockatiel for God’s sake – it’s not like it has FEELINGS!

Back to Sophie – like I said, she’s my favourite sister – but I still like to tease her for being a “princess”. I was the smallest of the litter and Sophie was the biggest. There were only four of us and mum and dad got me ’cause I looked sort of cheeky and mischievous in the photos – and because I was more boisterous than Sophie whose parents are older than mine. Some people have described me as a bit of a runt (not pointing any paws BUT YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE!), I prefer the polite term – under-dog, no wait –  I lie, I really prefer fine boned, elegant and athletic which is what I ACTUALLY am (hey did I mention cute already!?).

Anyway we three (me, Sophie and my brother), arrived in Brisbane from Melbourne together  on the plane (Sophie had to have a separate carrier to me and my brother as she’s the eldest and the biggest boned (mum says it’s impolite to call her chubby – she’ll get offended). We had lots of fun en-route in the baggage compartment – barking up a storm and upsetting some uppity pure-bred show cats with stupid names like “Her Ladyship Andreas Mocha IV”. Boy do I love it when their fur stands on end! No – just kidding, really I love love love cats Really I do!

Anyway this is what sometimes happens at Sophie’s place:

I know, I know, all that crazed running around doesn’t last that long – and after half an hour of that – the very best bit of all is…Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

© Beatrice Bella Fauve and Bella Vizsla, 2010.

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