Small visitor

We had a highly hilarious time this afternoon due to a visit from an infant West Highland Terrier. A bouncing ball of wiry white fur, basically. Miss Dog was enchanted. The visitor came up to her knees or thereabouts, which seemed to offer nothing but entertainment to both parties. They frolicked on the lawn most prettily, then everyone came in  so that the human element could have a cup of coffee. Here things got a bit more difficult. Quite fortunately we acquired a larger, heavier, and fiercer fireguard only the other week, because the first thing the puppy did on entering the room was to come within inches of careening into the fire. Guard was promptly deployed. Miss Dog, who is both sizeable and powerful, then took over the enteraintment of the young: unfortunately, her idea of absolute hilarity is to pelt in circles as fast as she can, as if she were a greyhound (though, alas, she does not have the sticking power). In the context of the sitting room, this meant three rag rugs, a wine table and a standard lamp all went crashing and skidding off in different directions as she hurtled under the piano and rounded the sofa, while the puppy, delighted, hid under a chair and egged her on. No harm was done, and the dogs (hastily put out into the garden to work off some more energy) had a wonderful time. Miss Cat, who was snoozing on her hot spot in my study, was hastily shut in – apart from the wear and tear on her nerves, my room is hideously well provided with electric cable, and the puppy apparently has a taste for electricity. All was well. The Protector of All Small Beasts was keeping an eye out. It’s always rather touching watching a big dog playing with a small one; not so much Dignity and Impudence as Miss Dog chanelling her inner puppy.