We were just a bit worried about taking George to this meet-up, since he can be a bit alpha with other dogs. A Napoleon complex, perhaps. He's small enough to need to assert his authority. But as things turned out, he soon adjusted to the masses, and was chasing about with the rest of them like a pro.
We've had this breed for twenty years. In the early days, we could hardly make our way from one end of the boardwalk to the other, for people constantly stopping us to ask about the dogs. They sure are attention-getters. Cute. And smart, and loyal, and a whole lot of fun. Their owners--that's not quite right: "the people they own" might be more accurate. Or "their slaves"--are manic ("dogic") in their affection for the breed. Not me, of course... I am not blind to George's faults. He is intolerant, for example, of small children, and tends to leap up and grab at the loose ends of various forms of women's garb. Still...
We found our first Cavalier in the Bel Air mansion of a television mogul. Her full name was Margaret Rose of Bel Air, but we called her Mags, which suited her just as well. She was a gift to us from her owner, and brought us many years of delight. They do sound like a snobby lot, these Cavaliers, but at heart they're just like the rest of us, playful at times and sad at others, and almost always hungry. Anyway, our George (NOT Bush, may I remind you? HARRISON...) is at the center of this picture, running forward, having a great time...
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