As a much younger man, my baby brother Michael had an oft-used saying:
"Need a lift? Go shove a jack up your arse". I am sure he is now far too
mature to say such things. Whether he is too mature to think such
things is much less certain. In any event, as a confirmed dog lover I am
almost certain that the advice would not apply to canines. Besides, his
dog is quite capable of walking all by himself and most unlikely to
need a lift. The dogs of my household are far less independent. Rumple
and Winkle (or Wrinkle as has become their couple name) are rather fond
of "the carry". At 10 weeks old Winkle has a valid excuse. Her little
legs can't carry her too far and as her first puppy class today revealed
she's not too fond of the lead. Not to worry. While she was downstairs
at puppy preschool objecting on principle to a lead, I was upstairs at
the pet shop buying a puppy pouch. A walk this evening showed that being
carried on her daddy's chest was much more to her liking. Rumple also
loved the puppy pouch as a small pooch and truth be told he hasn't grown
out of the carry stage. This morning he ran all the way up and down
Mount Cooth-tha but this evening he decided if Winkle was going to be
carried so was he. My left shoulder is well accustomed to the weight of a
dog perched parrot like on a walk. He can walk. He chooses not too. It is easy to see who is top dog around here
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