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The Jungle Beats

    Nine days home in Dominica and the dogs are just settling down.  What a tumult when we first arrived.  Ruby Buddha was meeting her two new sistas from another mother.  Soca and Calypso, just about a year old,  bounded over to meet their new pack member with tails wagging every which way and barking their hellos with glee.

    Ruby, our Tibetan Terrier, supposed to be the reincarnation of the Dalai Lama, barks only for danger.  She got annoyed at all the hullaballou and hissed them into a stand-off, returning to her Alpha position.

    She bypassed Reggae Dred straight, but remembers the old geezer.

    Soca has now started hanging in the house.  She and Ruby check p-mail and Ruby lets her sista eat leftovers from her bowl.  Calypso has had her six pups.  She got taken in her first heat when she was seven months.  She tried to off the only black pup. He fell out of the birthing box with the satin trim of the old blanket around his neck.  Maybe she was just testing his skills but I put him back on a teat.  His name is Toughy now and he lives in Trafalgar.

    Four others are okay.   The last one was put, by the child of the adopted family, into the yard with their other dog.  He was murdered as an interloper.

    The jungle beats.  The fittest survive.


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