...dog. Finally and at long last it has happened to me. After years of chasing dogs in the London parks, asking owners if I could pat the heads of their pooches, and admiring tail-waggers that were near-perfection, but not quite perfect, I met this spirited Italian greyhound.
I had never met one before; they have exceptionally lean legs as though they had leggy chicken ancestors, and a tail shaped like the hook at the end of an umbrella. The bubbly creature that I met has a very sweet-temperament, a lively wit and keen intelligence. By 'lively wit', I mean that she listens very careful when people around her are having a conversation, and wags her tail when the air is filled with laughter.
Never have I met a dog quite so alert and socially intuitive, as she moves her head to the rhythm of the cadences of the voices around her.
Alas, she is not mine, but one day I might just get one exactly like her. In the meantime, take it from me - Hyde Park and the Bayswater area are the best places to meet dogs.
Apparently, people chose dogs that resemble themselves in some way. Over the weekend, a friend of mine ventured to ask if one of the reasons that I'm so keen on this athletic hound is because I want a dog who can keep up with me when I walk? I love walking at a fast clip, and having a fast-paced pooch by my side makes sense. I share other characteristics with the greyhound: nervous energy, a love of conversation, an absence of shyness and a tendency to be highly strung. Ah well, the dog may not be perfect per se, but she's perfect for me!
When there are no real-life dogs in the vicinity, I find myself admiring the ingenuity of boxes that are made in the shape of Scottie dogs. Here I am at Christmas, sitting down to a cup of tea and playing with the tin of biscuits. I did remember to uncover the lid and offer the biscuits round.