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Maisie

Team Furry

This is Maisie. She's my parents' dog but as she a great gal she couldn't be missed out. At 10 she's knocking in a bit for a pedigree Standard Poodle but her favourite things are still walking on the moors with Dad, or just wagging innanely at Chris. Oh, and growling at poor old Conker (see below).
Poodles (or Poos) are a grossly underated breed to my mind. Okay, the little ones are generally nippy and nasty but the big ones (like Maisie) make great dogs. We, as a family, have had two biggies and they've been absolute super-stars. I'm blithering now and will now go onto...

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Conker

...ah, where to start? Conker (or Plonker, to my Dad) is a Sprollie (English Springer Spaniel- Border Collie cross) and is our little lad. The baby of the family, he was much hated by the cats (below) until he was hit by a car at which point he was accepted to the bosom of his tormentors. Six months old and pelvis cracked in two places, the little sods (Perkins and mostly Habibi) decided to love their little pup and all has been fairly harmonious since. Probably because it happened outside the kitchen window and they heard it happen. They became terribly contrite.

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Woefully grainy Perkins

Mr Perkins.
I apologise for the shabby picture. He is always dressed for dinner. He is the Bond, James Bond , of the cat world. And fastidious. He likes things to be clean and regularly manicures the kitty-tray.
At nights he sleeps in the crack between our pillows or, if it's chilly, under the duvet by our chins. Come morning you will always find him curled by my feet. On a bad morning he'll be chewing them.
When hungry he opens the kitchen cupboards (at about 3 in the morning) and boots out all of the tins looking for cat food. He does it to make a point as he knows they don't live there. Grrr for Mr P
Perkins is named after Anthony Perkins in American Psycho. But he's not a psycho: he's a cuddle bunny.

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Madam Habibi

We got Habibi and Perkins, notionaly at least, as a wedding present from some friends of ours whose cat was up the duff again. We met them the day they were born and have known them every day ever since. As is always the way in this kind of case they chose us much more than we chose them. Perki would savage Chris' ankles (is a nice way) and Habibi would find a way to get me to think it would be a good time to sit down now and - hey - there's a good lap on which to sit... She's (and I have to whisper now, or she'll hear) very very pretty. Both kits have fan-clubs: P because he's sooo damn cool and Baby (Habibi) because she's so darned pretty. And fluffy.