It's been quiet on here about Pickle lately.
She hasn't. Been quiet, that is. Except that she does seem to be quietly growing.
I think. She still looks quite tiny to me.
Her days are filled with wondrous things.
Flies are especially fascinating. She found a bluebottle the other day. By the time I noticed, she had the bluebottle gently between her front paws, batting it backwards and forwards or alternately nosing it.
Presumably it died, eventually. I don't know if it was eaten, but it wouldn't surprise me.
Latest obsession is crane flies. She spends hours tracking their progress round the room. Statue still, her eyes never wander.
As for other things - we dissuade her from trying to chew the furniture, or catching at trouser legs for attention as we walk past. She demolishes fir cones on a regular basis.
But learning is going well.
She fetches a ball with alacrity and knows how to 'give' it for another go. (Not that she 'gives' very often - she loves to tease. But she's learning.)
She is beginning to walk nicely on the lead. Usually.
House training - getting there. Slowly.
She still falls in the pond - occasionally. We realise she has done it when she starts tearing round the house, rolling on the sofa, wriggling on the carpet in an effort to dry off quickly. Subtle.
After all that activity, evenings are spent limp and relaxed until bedtime. A scarily quick change of personality from completely feisty to totally chilled.
Or Pickled.
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