Gemma Jack Russell is so opposite to Milo (Irish Wolfhound) Monster Dog.
She is a clock to his doorstop.
She is a computer to his photo frame.
She is a magazine to his blackboard.
She sits at my feet as I eat toast and coughs like a polite person being ignored in a conversation. Even with shoes on, I can FEEL the short force of her breath as she coughs on my ankles. If I look straight into her eyes as I eat my toast – she narrows them and I swear she is trying to hypnotise me “Give the nice dog the toast. You WANT to give the nice dog the toast!”
See? You can see her thinking, right there!
And you BETTER not say B-A-L-L out loud!
Yeah, she loves us, but if she had opposable thumbs, dammit…!!!
Meet Winston, better known as Winnie. Considering he was scraped out of the gutters of Braddon, ACT when he was a scrawny undernourished kitten, he has done pretty well for himself. This is his Blue Steel look.
In Winston’s world there are only two ‘people’…me and him. Everyone else is a bit player who feeds him, pats him and opens the door for him at 2am. I, however, am Mama – and he can nearly say it. You can imagine how well this goes down with Stepford Husband. Think Lead Balloon. This is his Le Tigre look
He is no longer a young cat, but he has claws to tell you what an attractive and distinguished looking cat he is.
This is his Magnum look.
Here he is actually sleeping.
‘Shut up, you silly Bit Players. Go and find me some food for when I awaken or I shall sharpen my claws on your ankles.’