Its probably about time I introduce the canine and feline elements of our little band since we’ve been talking about their transport arrangements for the big move. Here’s the roll call:
Ella, a black and tan dog of uncertain ancestry named for Duke Ellington (referencing his jazz classic). She came to us from the pound twelve years ago and contributes to clan operations by alerting us to incoming personnel (with the exception of the Hell Pizza delivery bloke, whose arrival she apparently completely fails to notice), and tidying up stray food. One of her proudest efforts was a few years ago when the Darling Daughter dropped a piece of cake off the bench as she was packing her lunch. Ella did a backslide from the kitchen doorway and had that cake in her mouth before it hit the floor. Despite her advanced years she can still catch a single cat biscuit tossed in her general direction.
Kitty-Pop the SPCA kitten. She arrived with the handle Tango. A great name we said — the Forbearing Husband and I having done a few tango lessons here and there (most notably here). Somehow though she became Kitty-Pop, and it has stuck except on formal occasions. Kitty-Pop provides in-house secure document destruction by shredding paper when displeased. Among her confirmed kills are a rather nice certificate I had which verified my membership of a quite important professional body, and a poster advertising one of the Forbearing Husband’s projects, which we were planning on framing. Her excuse was that she’s a killing machine and cannot be tamed.
Maisie, our latest addition. At four months old she looks likely to grow to a size best measured in hands. Her parents are both owned by my friend The Horsewoman, and Maisie’s heritage, as far as it is known, involves Border Collie, German Shepherd and quite probably Great Dane. Her contribution so far is mainly an off-the-chart cuteness rating, and a talent for converting kindling to mulch (which is a skill akin to spinning gold into straw). I have high hopes for her though as a rescue dog for visitors lost in the Seven Acre Wood. Oh, you’re quite right, that would be a St Bernard.
This happy band of sisters-from-different-misters are destined for rural life now. It’s a far cry from Ella’s beginnings, as recorded on her Waitakere City Pound adoption papers, “found on a driveway in Henderson”. I’m pretty sure there’s reality tv about this sort of stuff?