One year ago today I wrote this post about going to a New Year\’s Eve party and meeting Mimi, the Cavalier King Charles Spaniel who changed my life.
This year, despite my having disgraced myself on the earlier occasion by sitting alone through the night, stroking the dog and plotting ways to kidnap her, the hosts of that party invited us again. And there, again, was Mimi, the Cavalier.
This time, however, I had come fresh from the arms of my own Cavalier, Bisou, so I was able to stroke the adorable Mimi in a more detached way, and while I stroked I reflected on the variety of packages that come under the label \”Cavalier.\”
Mimi is a \”Blenheim\” Cavalier–white with reddish-brown spots all over. Bisou is a \”Ruby\”–a solid dark-orange all over. Mimi is small and dainty, weighing eleven pounds at eight years old. Bisou, not yet six months, weighs sixteen pounds, and with her coloring looks like a pygmy Irish Setter. Temperamentally, Mimi is a cup of chamomile tea. Bisou is a can of Red Bull.
When I was plotting to kidnap Mimi, I was after the chamomile qualities. But the universe sent me a can of Red Bull instead.
That\’s not to say that Bisou doesn\’t have her chamomile moments–right now she\’s curled up beside me, all silken ears and velvet muzzle. But this was preceded by a romp in the snowy field in which she ran circles around the big dogs, despite a mass of snowballs that formed around her \”feathers.\”
It is clear to me that I\’m going to have to expend considerable energy bringing out the chamomile side of Bisou. Walking in the snow and racing after the big dogs doesn\’t quite do the job. So I have signed us up for agility classes, beginning Monday. I\’ll keep you posted.