"Dogs" and Dogs

There are gypsy caravans parked on the place, where we usually walk Nala and Van-Ly, next to the river. The gypsies are here for the fruit picking season. In our area: cherries and apricots and plums. Lower down: those plus peaches and nectarines.

The gypsies have dogs and, after a couple of days, two of them got up the nerve to wander over and check out the action.




Our "dogs" do the dog thing and sniff butts. They are not, however, into reciprocal sniffing. Nala tries avoidance. Van-Ly lifts her lip. Before she can attack, I make her sit.

The two dogs kind of get the message, but after five minutes of no further activity, the brown one bounces down into a play bow in front of Van-Ly. Now if there is one thing that annoys Van-Ly more than some moron trying to sniff her butt, it's a moron who thinks she wants to play. I make her sit, again.

Nala would be O.K. if the dumb dogs wouldn't insist on acting like dogs. Van-Ly is hopeless.