Kiwi: Excuse me my dear, I must claim this rope
Mety: No no you are mistaken, this is my property
Kiwi: My fair lady, I assure these are my belongings...
Mety: Far would it be my intention to displease you, but look, my paw is on it. Therefore it's mine...
Kiwi: Good point, but my.... oh just freakin give it up already you twat!!
Since we have to avoid dogs on walks, now Jen takes Kiwi too (we only walk with her at night usually). But now the sun comes out really early, so if we go out around 6AM, we usually don't meet too many people.
Kiwi never walks in a straight line |
Playing at the park |
Why must I k-noze (=heel) when Kiwi is allowed to run ahead? |
I'm bored. Let's go to the park! |
Arg you're just changing position! How boring! |
Really? You're getting up! We're going somwhere? |
Bamba comes over and we can play a bit.
Well I play and she does her own business. She is a hunting dog. She taught me a bit the ancient art of hunting. She told of this is a very mythical creature she hunts, it is small and often of green color. It does not make any sound, it can fly very fast but can also move quickly on the ground among the grass. She has never seen its babies, they always seem adult size when she sees them. Humans can't handle them, these creatures always fly off from they hands. They don't seem to have any weakness, but the second they are caught, they pretend to be dead, like spies committing suicide not to share secret information.
Bamba, following a trail in the garden. |
Bamba, practicing the fine art of camouflage
(learned in ball hunting ninja camp)
|
Oh.
That was a disappointment!
That was a disappointment!
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