Mom and Alpha bought a house a few months after I hopped onto the Rainbow Ridge. Was a bit green with envy because it has a nice big garden with lots of space – could have had a ball there.
Anyhowl… the people who were selling the house were moving to New Zealand – wherever that is – and Gemma the sausage doglet was being left behind (I know – sucky attitude hey – Mom would never have left me behind anywhere).
A family conference was had and they decided, rightly so I might woof, that Gemma should live with them – or in this case, they should live with Gemma – seeing as it was her house first.
Mind you, turns out they were adopted by a little doglet that is seriously full of quiddities and quibbles. When she was a puppy, her male “parental agent” was somewhat nasty and took it out on her often.
She now has a memory as long as her little brown body.
Alpha gave her a neck rub one day and it would appear that he did something she does not like… so she shrieked at him. Seriously, she did! Bit rude, I’d say – specially when he had done nothing to hurt her in the least.
Mom picked her up to put her on her lap (which she was asking for) and she shrieked at her too. Mom is still trying to figure out which bit of Gemma she offended.
My boy Luan (did I tell you the pawsome news that he’s going to be a vet… oh – wait – that’s another blog) went out of the front door to go to varsity one morning and stood totally bemused on the other side of the door whilst Gemma howled and shrieked at him from the inside. He had visions that he’d accidentally shut a bit of her into the door (which he knew he hadn’t) but it turned out she just wanted to go outside with him too.
The sliding door at the back was open – but she wanted to go out of the front door.
Gemma’s quite good when it comes to the gate – she runs out but does not go near the road. Just sticks her nose into the neighbor’s gate. This gives mom a bit of a heart attack because there are a couple of pit bulls that live there. Seems like they are all friends though – because Gemma still has her nose.
She does, however, have a horrible habit of coming precariously close to the car wheels, and seeing as she has been run over before (not by my family obviously) and has a gait like a drunken sailor sometimes, mom’s totally neurotic about scrunching her.
My Ems says she looks like a mouse mermaid when she sits.
A pile of rather odious bedding was left by the previous owners. Gemma’s baskie! Mom was tempted to throw it into the washing machine on the hottest setting possible, but was vetoed. Shame… the rest of the family said. It’s the only thing that still smells familiar to her.
After the second day Alpha wrinkled his nose and said to mom – wash that smelly pile please!
Gemma puts herself to bed. Burrows under her duvet, like a little groundhog, into the depths of her “baskie” and slumbers peacefully. Quite clever really – I always needed mom to cover me up with a blankie.
Soon after they moved in – when Ralphie was still on earth – there was a yelping from the bedroom. Mom and Alpha were trying to sort out the tip of an office. Ralph had meanly positioned himself in the middle of the passage – a few feet from the bedroom door – and Gemma was too scared to charge past him. Every time she ventured out, Ralphie would haughtily flick his head around and glare at her.
That cat was laughing his whiskers off on the inside.
But Ralphie was not so pleased when that saucy little sausge dog claimed my old baskie for her own furry self. Next to mom’s desk nogal! Ralph and I used to share my baskie – especially when it was chilly. Then he got used to having it all for himself. One day he tried climbing into the basket with Gems. She leapt up shrieking and howling like a banshee dog and then tried to eat my Ralph. He was moerse put out and never tried that one again.
Mom made him a nice cosy spot under the table instead, but if looks could kill – Gemma would be leaping around the Rainbow Ridge with the rest of us.
They got to be friends though, before Ralphie came up to heaven. Gemma and Jack (the new kitty) are another story though.
