Walking the pooches

I took my dogs for a walk today. I don't do it as often as I should, but I do try.

I assume it's rather amusing to watch me walk my dogs. They are like two little rockets, powering along the street, dragging me in thier wake. Until we get two hundred metres down the road, and then, they go at thier own pace. They make the rules.

This is Molly. She's a Corgi X Jack Russel and she thinks she's the biggest scariest dog on the block. She thinks that our walks are a Bark-at-other-dogs-tour-of-Stoneville especially for her. Whenever we walk past a house that has a dog, she barks and growls and tugs at her lead until I have to yank her backwards and remind her to behave. If we pass another dog, I have one hell of a time trying to keep her from eating it, while I try and fend off nasty looks from the owner (who is also trying like hell to keep hold of the lead)

This is Tessa. She's our pure bred Jack Russell and she thinks our walks are Smell-every-bush-and-clump-of-grass-in-Stoneville-tour especially for her. I am constantly being pulled to a complete halt as she stops and sniffs, then leaves her scent then kicks dirt over it. It's rather frustrating at times.

But as much as they shit me, I do love my puppies very much. I mean, how can you not love puppies that are this cute!