DARCY AND (L)IZZY

Darcy and (L)izzy

You knew they were together somewhere, Darcy and his beloved.

 

Currently, we are doggie sitting my friend Mary's dog, Isabella or Izzy for short, while Mary's out of town - and this is the first time I've seen these two together where Darcy is not trying to herd little Izzy into some sort of straight line.  Darcy is part Australian Sheep Dog, maybe, so any time poor Izzy tries to walk from Point A to Point B it's a production for Darcy.

Izzy's owner is one of the most joyful, serene people I have ever met - truly annoying.  And her dog is very like her - contented, elegant, a pleasure to be around.   And then there is Darcy - big, clumsy, grin like an idiot, Darcy.  Like Mary's dog is very reminiscent of her, my dog is very much like me - she falls out of bed regularly and snorts food from her nose.  

I call them my DARCY AND (L)IZZY.  My poor baby Darcy will be developing a psychosis since she is now referred to as he all the time, because it feeds into my Darcy and Lizzy fantasy world.  I have a grand kind of fantasy world which grows exponentially each day.  Soon I shall be its queen.

Anyway, I'm getting off track again.  What I was thinking is how similar we are to our pets, we even grow to look like them - or they grow to look like us - or do we pick pets that feel like family?  Who knows, but it is very odd.

Robert Downing must have been filming Sherlock Holmes when he picked up this little number.

Grooming is so very important, as are highlights.  Of the three I know which one has the more intelligent looking face.  And eyebrows, lord I'd kill for eyebrows.

I am not Paris' biggest fan but she is good to animals.  I have never ever met a person I could engage in conversation who did not like animals.  Something about non-animal people shows in their eyes - or maybe it's the lack of fur on their pants.

You have to smile when you hold a puppy.  If you don't there is something wrong with your soul.

 No there is something definitely there, a connection on some unconscious level when we choose our pets.  Perhaps we see ourselves in them, a more innocent version of the person we know ourselves to have become and wish we hadn't.

Or maybe it's just love, pure and simple.  Your best buddy, your friend, your loyal other half, all rolled into one.

And then there are some people who just carry this thing too far.

Anyway, we won't go into cats.  Cat loving is a whole different level of self degradation and would need a professional therapist to explain why anyone would put themselves through a kitten's first year of life.  They are, quite literally, insane.

I think instead, next time we'll talk about something truly demented.

Why we marry our parents.