Our lovely rescue pooch is thriving. No more cancer and no more puppies thanks to the tireless, dedicated folk at the Zihuatanejo Humane Society. Her name was Once ( eleven in Spanish, long story, short blog ), but we've been calling her Beyonce ever since my brother Peter's visit at Christmas. When I introduced the dog to him as Once, he looked at her and said, "I'll never remember that, your name is now Beyonce, do you like that name?" With that she rolled over on her back, stretched herself out exposing her girly-doggy-parts, ( I have no idea where she learned that ) and that was it. Actually, the name suits her. She's black, has a strong throaty voice, and with a life-style of leisure and abundance, has become quite full figured.
No comments:
Post a Comment