You couldn't make it up. Tonight on the Rec we meet two new dogs. Out being walked by a young lady, there's a biggish black and white Lhasa Apso who is apparently rather ancient and given to collapse at the back end, whereby the Mistress of the house has to be summoned in the car to come and collect everyone.
With these, on a lead is a tiny madly hairy black one, which Dad assumes is a Lhasa pup. He also assumes it's a bitch because "she" has a bright pink harness and pink lead. The lady laughs and says that, no, he's actually a boy, and the pink harness is from their ferret, because he slips his normal collar. He is not a Lhas, but a miniature Yorkie cross Lhasa. What's his name? "Bruiser". At this point Dad is laughing fit to bust because there never was a dog less like his name than this little mite.
Such niceties are lost on us, of course - we are happy to say a nice hello to anyone and we walk around with them for a while, pee-ing on the same tufts of grass etc, and eventually meeting, and introducing these new comers to our old chums Ben and Patch.
Funny old world
Deefski
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