Abandoned

Although she's still extremely adverse to the outside world since the wasp eye incident, Peanut is forced to come on walks with the rest of the dogs to give her the vitamin D that stops her little Twiglet legs from snapping. Peanut does not like walks one bit. Kitchen is toilet! Why drag poor tiny cloud outside where it can be blown away? She will try to make herself look as small and ball shaped as possible so that we think she is just one of the dog toys and leave her be. Since all their other toys are neither grey nor horribly malformed we always manage to locate her, much to her annoyance. When we finally do get the lead on her she will begrudgingly allow herself to be dragged out into the terrible cold, where she will usually hold in all her excretions until we're safely back inside, as if to educate us on where toilets are supposed to happen. My mother usually walks them at night, and on one occasion Peanut's lead managed to slip out of her hand. Any of the other dogs would have taken this opportunity to either run off to find some delicious faeces to eat or would have loyally trotted beside my mum because she is where the food and warm comes from. Peanut doesn't like freedom. Peanut likes the lovely warm cage we have for her. Peanut doesn't know what to do when left to her own mind. Peanut ceases. 

My mum didn't immediately realise that Peanut had slipped from her grasp since walking her is like walking an old balloon filled with farts so she carried on her usual walk without her. It was only when she was almost finished that she looked down and noticed that the tiny shadow had disappeared so she went back and saw her standing in the middle of the road near to my house perfectly still. She hadn't moved since my mum dropped her. She was carried back inside, where she remained her the trance of her own thoughts until it was time to remember about her bowels and she widdled everywhere. 

Bath Time

I was washing the dogs the other day when I was reminded of the momentous occasion that was Peanut's first bath. I had gathered her up along with her brothers and sisters and brought them up to the bathroom for their introduction to the horrors that the porcelain tub contained. They were all too jovial and cocksure, running around with their little happy faces. It was time to bring them down a peg or two, show them the harsh and cruel reality of the world they'd been flung into. It was bath time.  

I filled the bath up to just below their tummies and plopped them all in, one by one, until it was Peanut's turn. I thought I'd put her in last because she was the most likely to let go of her mind and allow herself to silently slip under the water. However, as soon as I put her in she started to immediately drink the bath water. Now if you've read my last post you'll already know Peanut's love for all things aqua, but even I didn't think she would find the soup of her sibling's dirty bum zones appealing. I was wrong. She loved it. She wouldn't stop lapping it up. I started to get a bit concerned, because these puppies really stank and she was slurping up their congealing essence like there was no tomorrow. Just as I was about to scoop her out she began puking puppy stink everywhere. This was the most counter-productive bath time ever as the pups were now dirtier than they had been before they went in. 

It was from then that we had to bathe Peanut separately in the sink, dunking her in and out like a hairy grey biscuit to stop her exploding again.  

Activities

Despite her sad loss of glorious leader wasp, Peanut managed to find purpose in life again and discovered some fun new activities to do around the kitchen. Her most favourite thing to do is to turn herself into a sticky little grey water pistol. This involves drinking all the water in her bowl and then immediately squirting it out all over as much of the floor as possible. 

Another thing that brings her much joy is doing happy little circles around her objects of desire, for instance if my mother is mashing up some prime duck anus for her she will run determined laps around her until the stinky meat is presented to her, where upon she will gum it with her tiny bird mouth to show she's just like the other dogs but then swallow it whole anyway. If she is interrupted during her journey she will do even smaller circles in front of the obstruction (usually greedy breeze block Angel) until it is removed from her path, whereupon she will return to her manic attempts to dizzy my mum into dropping her food early.

After a hard days widdling and circling she likes nothing more than to curl up on top of her mother and have a snooze, and when I say on top I literally mean she will clamber up her resting mammy and then fall asleep with her butt on her back and her face on the floor. 

Outside

Now that Peanut was the only pup left she began to come out of her shell like a dirty little turtle. When her brothers and sisters were there she would get pushed out of the way at feeding time and get stuck on her back, again like a dirty little turtle. Since they had all been purchased she had free reign over the food bowl and was beginning to grow into a..well a slightly larger ball of dust.

She eventually gained enough strength to use her little chopstick legs properly so now began the toilet training. My mum bought those special puppy pee pads that smell like dog toilet and gradually she began to fall in love with them. She was using them so well that it was decided that she would finally be allowed into the outside world, which is all toilet! Surely this would be a match made in heaven! Well as it turns out being outside opened her mind to a shiny new emotion: hate. Kitchen; safe, warm, toilet, good. Outside; cold, grass that touches her butthole, flowers that touch her butthole, other dogs that want. To touch. Her butthole. But the worst thing were the insects. Flies flocked to her because she constantly looked like she was about to die, and her little facial tentacles were always coated in last nights food so they could feast like kings. There was one incident however that let her know that the outside was a cruel and evil place and that only inside was safe for pee pees. 

Out one day for her daily drag around the block she encountered a new insect that she had never seen before. It was black and yellow and had pretty little wings that glinted in the light. Maybe these creatures weren't so bad. Maybe they could be friends! She bounded over to have a closer look. My mother, who was walking her, suddenly noticed that the lead had gone taut so she looked round to see Peanut lying still on the pavement. Rushing over to her, she noticed that there was something stuck in her eye. Turns out the lovely stripy creature was a wasp and it had stung her right in the eye. Now this would upset any dog, but Peanut isn't any dog. While they would probably start whining and trying to scratch the terrible beast from their eyeball, she instantly gave up on life and accepted that this was how things were going to be from now on, that she would just lie there and be sad and the wasp would carry on living with its ass in her eye. Of course my mum swiftly removed the offending animal but Peanut was still in shut down mode. Life could not exist now without eyewasp. There was no longer any meaning. 

She was totally fine after she was allowed back inside and promptly wizzed all over everywhere.

Peanode

So I guess a lot of people blog about their pets, but my pet is different. Now I know that, again, a lot of people say that about how precious and special Dr Foogoo Smileynipple's farts are, but my pet is like, super different. Like "I have brain problems" different.

Peanut was born in the breach position, which means that she was born upside down. She was also last of her litter to be born, so I like to imagine that, after seeing her brothers and sisters ride the water slide out of mama, she thought she'd be the cool one to do it backwards. Unfortunately, she managed to get her little fat head stuck on the ride and so her tiny brain was starved of oxygen for a few seconds more than it could handle. This is how our special little pal came to be a particularly potent flavour of unique.

We already had three other dogs from the same family line, all Yorkshire Terriers, all bred by my mother, all with names you would give a doggy prostitute if such a terrible thing existed. The great grandmother is Angel or, as I like to call her, Square Bear, for she is the stockiest and most cuboid of dogs and she has a cute little bear face. 

Next comes Missy, the granny, alias Missy Bumface McFlagtail. She got her name for the fact that when she was still a dog babby her mummy Angel, who'd had a cesarean for the first time and decided that since she hadn't seen her babies physically shoot of her that they must be pod people who'd eaten her real children and now were after her precious life milk, thought she'd save the world by munching down these abominations. Thankfully, she only managed to chomp the end off Missy's tail before she was scooped out of harms way. All the other puppies got away unscathed in case you were doubled over in sadness.  After this event her tail hair kept growing over her stump so now it looks like she's waving a tiny hairy flag constantly. I added the Bumface part because she is a bumface. 

Baby is the final dog, but everyone calls her Scamp or Freak because she has these weird ass extra toes and the claws on them grow round in circles. There was this one time where the circle claws on her back feet managed to get locked together and she was dragging herself along like a seal, which made it really hard to untangle her. That and I was laughing so hard all my energy was going into not weeing all over my kitchen.

And now we had Peanut, the exciting new generation! So many hopes and expectations, oh how lucky you are little dog do be born in such radical fast paced times! But what's this? All your brothers and sisters have learnt to walk by now and there you are, rolling to your destination like a little furry armadillo. They all have shiny, sleek coats, where as you look like you've been sleeping inside an ass all your life. When it came to the time when we were selling all the babies the woman who bought Peanut gave her back because she was afraid she was going to die since she refused to eat, drink or even move from the spot they set her in. Peanut was the only one left. Peanut was now for keeps. 

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