There's Life in the Old Girl Yet

We reckon Tiny's twelve years old now, or so, give or take, roughly approximately.

Certainly we've had her for as long as I can reliably remember. And that's a reasonably long time.

While we didn't exactly rescue her, we sort of did, and we've managed to turn her from an underfed whelp who crapped on the carpet into a dignified princess, admittedly with personal space issues.

She's the flip side of Matilda who is of course evil and possessed of a heart of darkness.

Just today at the brook Matilda stole and apple out of a baby's hand. Luckily she's pretty accurate and it's not often that fingers suffer. But nevertheless. And discipline doesn't help either. She went on the lead straight off mind (and it's actually the first time she's done it while we've been here). Nasty naughty dog.

But the strange thing about the dogs is they work as a team. So as soon as Matilda was on the lead Tiny took it upon herself to make up the naughtiness quotient by running away and refusing to come back.

Yesterday at the beach Eloise and Nicole went off to paddle near the mangroves while I went looking for nice ripples in the sand and little holes with crabs in them that were bubbling occasionally. Tiny was a bit torn between looking after Eloise and following me around.

So what she ended up doing was following me around for a bit, then looking meaningfully into the distance before leaping off and dashing at great speed across the sand to Eloise, who she would follow around for a bit before repeating the exercise in reverse,