This beautiful wise old face belongs to “Whoa Nellie Belle”. She’s the oldest of the household pets. She is also the prima Donna of the house, the cheerleader, non-swimmer, bull in a china shop, prissy, pretty girly girl. Now isn’t that a descriptive sentence. She’ll blow a fart like a guy and look at you like YOU did it and how dare you, hence her name. She has done that since the day we brought her home.
She is also allergic to flea saliva, cats, mold, dust, grass pollen, and especially to bees. We found that out when she was a year old. You see, she loves to stick her nose in flowers and sniff (girly girl). She has always done this and once ate her way through the petals of the flower chain (and my bouquet on a coffee table) by rose’s first, carnations next, and daisies last. But, that’s another story, back to the bees. When she was a year old she was out sniffing the flower bed and was stung square in the nose. The bed she has access to is about 10 feet from the back door. By the time she turned and ran to the door half her face looked like a bowling ball. It was awful. I stuffed a hand full of Benadryl down her and rushed her to the vet. She was, for a while, the only dog I knew who needed an Epipen and who had bottles of cortisone on hand.
We live up the hill from a lake. She is a retriever but doesn’t retrieve. As I said – she’s a cheerleader. Oh, she’ll fake you out alright – get a ball or a toy and she’ll jump around the deck and get all excited. Heck, she’ll even look like she’s going to make a mad dash for it. Ha, got ya! You throw the item and the other dog takes off and she sits down. Her job, as she knows it – is over. She didn’t make the pass as the quarterback and she is NOT the running back. She is the cheerleader and does not indulge otherwise.
And the lake – oh no, ladies don’t swim – they bathe. She does do a great impression of the Loch Ness monster though. She goes out to her knees and sometimes her belly. Then, she sits down or lies down. Ah hmmm, people, where are the bubbles and the soap? Isn’t this just a big bathtub and please do not get my make-up smeared.
Then there are her feet – ur, ah – paws. She has the usual number and if she were a model those babies would be a size 12. Could you imagine buying four Jimmy Choo's in a size 12? And then there is the issue of grace. There is none. If there were an obstacle, no matter how small, it is in her way – she find's it, trips on it, or steps on it. Sometimes she walks on my feet more than me.
If you aren't moving fast enough to please the Princess don't be surprised if you get bumped into. She follows you excitedly like a race car held in the caution flag waiting for the green. Stop abruptly and you will get a cold nose on the leg. Then there is the annoying habit she has if you are not moving with all due haste to meet her needs...she wil boot you, as if she can encourage you to move faster, with those giant paws right square in the back of the knee.
She has personality - I guess her "Pet Mom" does too.
There are new beads out of the kiln, and a few of them are quirky too. I'll get those bead shots up tomorrow.
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