My name is Rachel. I am a self confessed mad dog lady. My friends agree with me too. I seriously do not know how my partner Paul puts up with me and the dogs shenanigans. But then again, he has a serious fish tank obsession. We currently own 6 fish tanks of varying sizes from 300L to 15L and have two more coming soon.
Apart from my full time job as the resident crazy dog lady, I study at uni. Currently I'm in a Bachelor of Art in Australian Studies, but going to transfer to Bachelor of Sustainable Environments and then hopefully go on to to Vet Science.
My dogs are mad. They run around like crazed lunatics all the time and tend to eat us out of house and home with their 'poor starving puppy' mind tricks. They kill squeaky and fluffy toys with a vengence and are our patented junk mail shredders. They steal our bed and make it muddy and cover all of our clothes with a fine sprinkling of hair. I seriously think it will soon be come a fashion item [well it already is in dog circles!].
First up is Peggie. She is a 3.5 year old terrier cross, with staffy, maltese and silky in her. She belongs to Paul's mother but has adopted me. She is also the princess of the house . Very well behaved, to the point you can put kfc on the back seat with her and she won't scoff it. For a longish haired dog, suprisingly she sheds very little [compared to the white hairy dirt in the yard when Spot shed last].
And second is Spot. He is a 2.5 year old cattle dog X dalmatian. He's a second hand dog, aka a pound dog from Queanbayen in NSW that I rescued [without Paul's knowledge] at Christmas time 2008. Sometimes I wonder if I have the most badly behaved dog in Australia. He has eaten a list of things longer than my arm, and maybe one day I will compile a list. His most recent eating was of a potentially lethal dose dark chocolate which he stole from a closed drawer.
Our lives...well at least mine literally revolve around dogs. I hate going away if my furbabies cannot come with us, and usually I cannot stop thinking about them if we do go away without them. Nearly every weekend wind, rain or sun, hot or cold, we can be found down at a beach or oval trying to wear some of that limitless energy out of them. Which mind you, never works for more than 10 minutes. They may appear buggered in the car on the way home...we walk in the gate and they are racing around like lunatics again. I must work out the math behind it one day...
But anyway enough blahhing on from me, my crazy canines are wanting me to feed them...again