The Fur-Child comes to visit

By The General

The Fur-Child came up for the weekend. I hadn't seen her for a while, but it was good to sniff her again, if you know what I mean. 

She's a vegetarian, on account of some liver complaint, the Boss says, and she smells a whole lot better than my Mum, Queenie - who isn't worth smelling too closely anyway, because she nips my ear.

The Fur-Child - Queenie calls her "Princess Maxie" on account of she gets spoiled a lot - belongs to the Boss's daughter and she arrives with a custom-made bed in the back of the car and she gets very special treatment. All this fancy food from David Jones, toys via the Internet, special beaches to swim off and that kind of thing, according to Queenie.

Queenie has been to the Fur-Child's  house in Melbourne and says she has her own door  into the backyard, so she can come and go as she pleases. Queenie's lip curls slightly when she talks about it.

She reckons the Fur-Child even has a sun bed. She goes outside to look at the weather and, if she likes the look of it, just turns her head over her shoulder and waits for the sun-bed to be brought out.

Queenie thinks Princess Maxie is a bad influence on me, that I get besotted and hang around her too much - well, all the time, more or less, since she smells so good. I like to get up on her back but no-one else thinks that's a good idea - the Boss shakes his head and says I have no bullets to fire so I should quit trying. I don't know what he means by that.

She's a city girl and quite sophisticated. I like that. The Missus says the Fur-Child will lie down outside a cafe while her parents are having coffee and stay there while a heap of other dogs and people go past, without causing a fuss. Then the Missus frowns at me - as if I can't.

She wears a pretty collar too, in pink camo. I'm a camo sort of dog, as you probably know by now, but I prefer the green and brown camo. Pink camo must be all the rage in the city.

And Queenie reckons Fur-Child gets collected most days by a dog-walker in the middle of the day while her parents are at work. "Why can't she walk on her own? Needs a good hard nip on the ear," Queenie says. 

Nor does Queenie approve of the way the Fur-Child lets go an ear-piecing yelp when she wants to head outside, then ten seconds later lets the same yelp go to come back in. If she doesn't get her way quickly enough, she stands on her hind legs and scratches the fly-wire door. That gets the Missus fired right up, when she does that. But it gets Princess Maxie results, straight away.

You have to admire a dog that gets exactly what it wants. I try hard to do that but the odds are stacked against me. When I follow the Fur-Child's example, I just get yelled at or cop a nip on the ear. It's a dog's life. Woof.