Yesterday we took Delilah to Sydney Park to meet up with some friends and their respective dogs. Here we have from left to right, Tats and his boy Rupert, Jonathon and his boy Robbie and B with The Naughtiest Dog in the World, Delilah. Despite how it looks, B has not also become a father.
Over the weekend, Delilah ate half the back cover of my copy of ‘The Book of Basketball’, which to be fair is one of the most casually sexist books I’ve ever read and I felt like tearing the cover off myself.
The following morning she chewed up a pen and exploded ink everywhere and walked around looking like the police had taken her paw prints for their files (they should, she’s trouble).
At the park, she faked being a delightful puppy for as long as she could, but there’s one thing she is never able to resist, and that’s mud. We looked away for two seconds and turned around to find this:
Here she is being carried across a grated bridge, which she is too scared to walk across. Look how quickly her bravado disappeared:
We stopped for coffee at the Sydney Park café, which is always an experience as dogs mill around mostly unattended while their owners are distracted, impatiently waiting for a caffeine fix.
My attention was drawn to a short woman, cheerfully puffing away on a cigarette and chatting to every dog or owner who walked by. Her dog was a giant Rottweiler named Satan, who she incessantly called whenever he left her side for a moment.
The pair eventually came walking past us and she stopped to give Delilah kisses and discuss her cuteness. Delilah and Satan circled one another and for a split second I was distracted and looked away, when all of a sudden there was squealing and cries of ‘Delilah!’ and I turned back, expecting to see Satan running off with Delilah clenched in his giant jaws.
Instead, there was poor Satan standing there while Delilah vigorously humped his face which she had mounted and clamped onto.
“Look at her! Dominating Satan, the big, scary Rottie!” Satan’s owner laughed.
That’s out little girl, and we wouldn’t trade her for any other dog (unless she eats any more pens).