Our dear little drama queen


In which DD slumps a little when she realises just quite how much of a diva little Sammy can be…

Last night I had literally just sunk into bed and breathed that wonderful sigh of relief at the end of a long day when I heard that special Sammy whine. Arrgggghhhh! I can’t ignore that and, seemingly, neither can Sheba Shanks who immediately hot-footed it downstairs to check on her “leetle friend”.

I followed closely behind and we met up with Aaron, who had also heard the whining (giggle… it was like something out of Famous Five, two short people in PJs bearing torches in a pitch-dark lounge and a bouncy dog, all with adrenalin surging).

After a quick search, we found Sammy reclining on the spare room’s bed, hogging not one but two socks. She seemed perfectly fine and, being careful not to shine a torch into Boris Bird and Georgie Boy’s direction – which would surely frighten the beejeebies out of them and cause at least one of them (usually Boris) to fall off his perch – I gave her a quick once-over.

Finding nothing untoward, I assumed that she’d probably just whined to be let into Aaron’s room… or maybe she’d battled to get up the stairs to the bed with two socks in her mouth. I must admit that she did have a distinct air of smugness about her, having brought about so much undivided attention…

I quickly remedied things by folding the socks together for her and bid the little madam goodnight before departing the spare room, where she stayed until early morning like a queen upon her throne – she does do “Diva” so well.

Time for a pedicure

Aside from her night-time performances, the time rolls around all too soon for the dreaded nail-clipping drama. Eep! – for me, her and the vet… we all hate that time! Even with a healthy dose of pet-calming meds, she still morphs into Devil Dog when anyone goes near those cute little toes. She puts in an Oscar-worthy performance as if she’s about to have her toes sawn right off, rather than a little toenail trim!

I’ve seen the fear in my vet’s eyes and, between you and me, I can’t say I blame her. Truthfully, not even I would dare to put my hands anywhere near her teeny-tiny but frighteningly ferocious Morkie mouth. Sammy, sweet as she looks, is a “take-no-prisoners” kind of a girl!

So, when that dreaded time arrives, I bundle her up like a mummy and hold her straitjacket tight, while keeping my face as far away as possible in the very likely event of losing a nose or chin in the ordeal, and the vet clips as fast as her hands can go. And we breathe a sigh of relief when it’s all over… until next time.

Collar conundrums

I’ve recently been forced to take her collar off (unless we are on a walk, of course). On Sunday night we had just settled down to eat our dinner in front of the TV when Sammy started yelping – LOUDLY – as if something terrible was being done to her.

That sound is enough to set ALL of us into a mad panic. We all jumped up like panicked meerkats looking for impending disaster. It took a moment to realise that she’d managed to get her back leg’s dewclaw caught in the ring clasp of her collar. She basically had a foot attached to her ear! Oh my word! Intense stress all round!

Sammy also does “Drama Queen” rather well and her yelping wasn’t helping us to “save” her any faster – not to mention that she had her gnashers at the ready too.

With all her fluff and fur, we couldn’t make out where her foot or the ring was. And she had every intention of biting us if we hurt her any further. While Sammy wailed on and I freaked out, The Dad barked instructions at Aaron to fetch the scissors and Sheba ran around like a mad dog on a sugar high. Thank goodness the boys were home as I don’t know what I would have done on my own… probably cut the collar off and let Sammy drag it around on her paw like a handcuff until some manly help came along!

I don’t even know what James did, but he managed to free her without us having to cut the collar. Imagine if we were out for a couple of hours and that had happened; I just cannot take the risk. No more collar unless supervised.

Poor Sammy, she was very unhappy by the turn of events and we all spent the rest of the evening just a little bit quieter and more subdued than before. Of course, we all know that “quiet and subdued” doesn’t last and it wasn’t long before our little diva was back to her old self again – drama and all.