Category Archives: corgi
Happy Star Wars Day!
Today is May Fourth, as in “May the Fourth be with you,” as in, “Happy Star Wars Day!”
May the Fourth be with you!
Understandably, Star Wars Day is a special day for Leia and Yoda Corgi. When we first brought the corgis home, we thought about what to name them. As a writer and English teacher, I had already told myself that when I got a dog, I would name him after an author or a famous literary character. Chaucer was at the top of my list.
But when we saw our little corgi pup, his ears were so large (they were already sticking straight up when we got him) that he reminded us of Yoda from Star Wars. The name stuck immediately.
Yoda on his “gotcha day,” a tiny pup with huge ears.
Since we adopted a sister and brother, we decided we needed a female name for Yoda’s sister. I thought about Princess Leia’s famous hairdo, the one with two braids wrapped at the sides of her head. The puppy had also been acting like a princess from the moment we got her, so Princess Leia sounded perfect (though to prevent her from having a superiority complex, we just call her “Leia” for short).
Leia dressed up like Yoda for Halloween (Yoda was afraid of the Yoda costume and decided to go as himself!).
When I wrote Corgi Capers, I wanted to name the corgis in a similar fashion, after famous characters that my protagonist, Adam Hollinger, was fond of. Because of both my desire to avoid copyright issues and to “make it my own,” I decided to create a fictional famous outer-space comic book series that Adam could draw from to name his pups.
In Corgi Capers, the pups are named Zeph and Princess Sapphie (but just “Sapphie” for short—Sapphie doesn’t need a superiority complex, either). Zeph is loyal and intelligent just like his namesake. Logan Zephyr is a fearless space commander who leads his crew, the Stellar Squadron, around the universe in search of adventure. Though Zeph the puppy is often fearful, he tries hard to live up to the bravery of his namesake, displaying courage even when he’s trembling inside.
A sketch of Logan Zephyr, one of Adam’s favorite comic book characters in Corgi Capers.
During one of his adventures, explorer Logan Zephyr comes upon a strange planet covered in quicksand. Underneath the quicksand is the beautiful Sapphire Kingdom inhabited by a princess named Princess Sapphire. Instead of being forthcoming about the fact that she is lonely and trapped on her isolated planet, she uses deceit and flattery to lure the explorers to her, and she uses treachery to try to trap them. Though she is beautiful and kind, she has a dark side. Adam decided this would be a perfect name for Zeph’s rambunctious sister, who is sweet when she wants to be but likes to dominate any situation and prefers using tricks than brains simply because it’s more fun.
A sketch of Princess Sapphire, the princess Logan encounters during one of his adventures.
Each May the Fourth, I’m reminded of the corgis’ “gotcha day” and the fun we had in naming them and introducing them to their new home. Since then, each day has been a new adventure, and I’m glad the corgis are along for the ride.
Tomorrow, we have a special guest post about naming dogs from awesome author C. Hope Clark. Stay tuned!
Audio Book Now Available!
I’m pleased to announce that Corgi Capers: Deceit on Dorset Drive is now available in audio format. You can download your copy from Audible.com. I’ve downloaded several books from Audible–it’s a great deal when you purchase a membership, and if you sign up for a free trial, you can get several books free and then very inexpensively. I transfer my audio books to my mp3 player and listen during long car rides, runs, or even when mowing the lawn (I place my earbuds inside my ear protection).
I’m also giving away discount codes for the audio book. Use the Rafflecopter form below to enter. The prize is one download code for Corgi Capers audio book. For every 100 entries, I will add a second download code (up to 5), so share with your friends. In the meantime, you can listen to a free preview of the book here.
Enter to win:
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Give Our Hearts to Denby Auction
I’m writing today about a special corgi and a special cause.
This is Denby Dog. In 2005, the corgi lost the ability to eat, drink, or blink. Today, he faces another challenge: degenerative myelopathy, a progressive and incurable disease of the spinal cord. Despite all of his challenges, Denby Dog and his special person are still going strong–Corgi Strong!, as his Facebook page asserts.
You can learn all about Denby Dog in this interview on Babble.com.
As part of this cause, a corgi community on Facebook, led by Iron Corgi Maggie Thatcher, has come together with some great (and mostly dog-related) items up for auction. The money raised in the auction will go right to Denby Dog and his Person to help with vet bills.
As part of this auction, I’ve donated something special: the chance to name one more character in the upcoming Corgi Capers 3: Curtain Calls and Fire Halls. Any and all money raised for this item will go directly to Denby, and I will send the winner an autographed copy of the book. You can find this item in the auction by using the link in the next paragraph.
If you’d like to participate in the auction, check out Iron Corgi Maggie Thatcher’s Facebook page (here), and then go check out her photo album (here) that contains all the goodies up for auction. Bidding is open for the week.
A Corgi Wonderland
Leia and Yoda Corgi have been enamored with the recent cold snap and the snow it’s brought. Except for times of extremely cold wind chill that send Leia inside, I have had to beg the corgis to come in from the cold. You hear people warning each other about the importance of bringing their pets inside during such temperatures, but I have a different warning:
Snow makes the corgis as frisky as ever. They love chasing each other, rolling in the snow (I think they’re trying to make “corgi angels”), and of course, eating it. One of their favorite things to do is have a corgi showdown (or “snow-down”). They stand at opposite ends of the yard and stare each other down. They creep forward one millimeter at a time until a loud noise–a bird, a car horn, or perhaps an “accidental” cough from me–sends them chasing each other at full speed:
When the snow is deep enough, they love running through the yard and creating “corgi paths” that they run through over and over again. Here is a shot of them making one such path:
Corgis gone wild in shoulder-deep snow!
Forging a corgi path in the snow.
Yoda is consistent in his love for the snow, but once in a while, Leia gets that little spark in her eye and becomes especially snow-happy:
Not sure how much more snow we’ll get this winter, but if it ever starts to get you down, just think like a corgi, and all will be well. Stay warm!
In Search of Winter by Sapphie Corgi
My person has been complaining lately about a thing called “winter.” It sounded like it might be good to eat, so I searched all over for it—the kitchen, the pantry, and even the compost heap outside, which was covered up in snow. But I couldn’t find winter anywhere. I got so mad, mad, mad that I ran around the house until I found my brother. Then I bit his ears. Biting Zeph’s ears always calms me down.
Zeph was no fun, as usual, and told me to stop. Like that was going to happen! But then I remembered that Zeph knows just about every word in the world, so I told him I’d stop biting his ears if he told me what “winter” was. He answered right away.
He said winter was the cold and snow and white skies and swirling sleet. I growled a little.
“Give me one,” I said.
“One what?” Zeph asked.
“One winter. No, make that two winters. Give me two winters. Mine and yours. I want to take them into my bed and eat them.” I always took treats into my bed and ate them. I usually steal Zeph’s treats, too. What’s his is mine, after all. Then I remembered Zeph was taking too long giving me his winter, so I snarled a little and said, “Give me your winter. Now, now, now!”
“I can’t give you winter, Sapphie,” my brother said. “It isn’t something that can—”
But I’d heard enough. “Where are you hiding winter?” I growled.
“I’m not hiding it, Sapphie, I—” But as he spoke, he glanced outside. He’s not a very good liar, and I knew he’d hidden winter in the yard. I’d have to go out and look for it, I decided as I bit his ear again. Only… finding winter might have to wait a while. Digging is hard to do when there’s so much snow on the ground!
Christmas Letters from the Corgis
It’s that time of year. The corgis have written their annual Christmas letters and thought they’d share:
Leia’s Christmas letter:
I know the world can’t wait to read about my experiences this year, so I’ll try not to be brief. After all, my name is Princess Leia. I know what “Princess” means. It means I can do what I want, when I want. And there isn’t a thing you can do about it. So sit down a while and prepare to be wowed by my tale (and my tail–it’s so cute and tiny!)
The year started out with some really fun stuff. There were boxes everywhere. Everywhere I turned, there was a box to sit in! Soon, though, stuff started getting packed away, and that was no fun, fun, fun!
Then our people told us they had to sell the house and we were too messy, messy, messy! They made us stay with our friend Buster the Boxer. Boy, did I get to practice being bossy. Not only did I get to boss around my brother, but I also got to boss around an eighty-pound boxer. He has a laundry basket full of toys, and get this: he thinks they belong to him—ha! Just like he thinks his food dish belongs to him.
Nope. Buster’s food dish, Yoda’s food dish, and my food dish all belong to me. And I ate from all of them, too! When my person finally came back to get me, I was a little rotund ball of happiness.
Who cares if Yoda lost weight because I wouldn’t let him eat? All that matters is me, me, me! Right?
Well anyway, then we moved to this new place. The yard is much bigger, and there are animals everywhere. The great thing I learned is that I have spring allergies that make my eyes water. I get to take this thing called medicine, which my person gives me as a ball of cheese. There’s nothing better, I tell you!
The first thing I did at the new place is light out after a deer. I ran past one, two, three people’s yards… all the way to the tree line. It was only then that I realized my person was screaming at me. I turned around and ran back. I thought I was going to be yelled at, so I immediately plopped down onto the ground and rolled over on my back. That melts my person’s heart, and she never yells at me. Then I followed her around all day and snuggled whenever possible just to make sure there was no yelling.
What was my stupid brother doing all this time? Did he take the opportunity to chase the deer with me? Of course not. He just howled at our person and sat at her feet like a stinky little fraidy dog. Hmph! He makes me look like the bad dog!
Anyway, besides animals to chase (because we got these stupid collars that scare me if I run too far. Haha! I ran down the battery on that thing real fast!), there are stinky piles to roll in. I basically have to get a bath every weekend. I’m proud of it, what can I say? I also found several dead things, mostly bugs, but one of them was bigger than a bug. My person is looking at me now, saying it’s not decent to write details about dead things I found (and played with), seeing as this is a Christmas letter.
Speaking of Christmas, my person bought us a bag of rawhide bones for Christmas. We smelled her gift, of course, and demanded that she give us the bones right away. She was all like “okay, just one each,” but we took care of that. Why, just this morning, she gave us the last of the bones from that bag. And it isn’t even Christmas yet! I’ll bet you two peanut butter cookies she goes out and buys us another bag before long. She says they’re from Target—she finally found “made in U.S.A. bones there.” Whatever that means. As long as she buys more, I’m happy.
The last thing that happened was the snow. At first I loved, loved, loved it! But then a thing called ice came and made a crusty layer that I was just heavy enough to fall through—but slowly, not quickly like my bigger brother. I was afraid, so I ended up doing my business on the patio. My person didn’t like that, but she has to remember that I’m in charge, not her. BOL!
Well, my brother is sitting here at the keyboard, so I guess I’d better let him write his Christmas letter. He’s a boring fraidy dog, though, so it’s probably going to be a stupid letter. You should just read mine again.
Merry Christmas to you, and don’t forget to send me Christmas treats!
Love,
Leia Corgi
Yoda’s Christmas letter:
I thought I’d start off this letter by warning you of all the scary things I’ve encountered this year: Leia, boxes, water, anything crinkly, bubble wrap, moving trucks, Buster, Leia, food dishes that are made of plastic, stuffed dog toys, foil, hats, costumes, stink bugs, ceramic ducks, dead animals my sister found, food dishes that are made of metal, books, bottles, baking pans, Howl-o-ween costumes, pizza boxes, Christmas trees, printers, and Leia.
Here are things that are not scary from this year: dried leaves (they are good to eat), rawhide bones, dog food, treats, blankets, leashes, and cuddling.
A lot of stuff happened this year, but right now, I’m sitting on my person’s lap, I’m in a warm house, I’ve had breakfast, and I’m being scratched behind the ears. My sister is on the floor not bullying me for once, and all is right with the world. I wish everyone was so lucky as me, to have a warm person with a lap to sit on and to be scratched behind the ears, and to feel how content the world is at times like these.
So all I can say is best wishes for a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
Love,
Yoda Corgi
Howl-o-what?
Leia and Yoda here. We are kind of scared, so we decided to write this blog post together.
You see, our person has been…acting weird. And who ya calling scared, brother?
Let me tell it, Leia.
Hmph!
See, our person has been acting weird. She brought home these things. They smelled like corgi toys, but they weren’t to be played with.
They were, were, were! I was about to chew on the–
No, Leia, they weren’t. They were to be… worn.
You see, Yoda doesn’t like to wear anything. Whenever I wear a Doritos bag on top of my head, he runs away and hides. Or when I wear a mud scarf around my neck and then get to wear shampoo and water… Anyway, as soon as I saw what our person brought, I knew I wanted to wear it right away. I growled at Yoda so he’d know I was claiming it: I wanted to wear the green costume.
Yes, she did. But our person told us that the green costume was for me. But it was too…scary!
Yoda, you’re not very smart. That costume is called a Yoda Costume. That’s why you were supposed to wear it.
But…but…it covered my…ears.
We couldn’t even try to get the coat on you. You were too scared. But not me. I thought it was fun, fun, fun!
There’s nothing scarier than my ears being covered.
What about foil?
W-what?
Or knocking on a door?
W-what!
Your reflection in a window?
Leia, stop!
Or crinkly dog toys?
No!
That costume was NOT the scariest thing of all. See how pretty I look in it?
Glad you liked it, then. I thought it was pretty scary.
But you were jealous, too. You were jealous when our person started taking pictures of me. You wanted to join in the fun. See, here’s a picture of you trying to sneak into MY photo session!
That’s true.
But she said if you were gonna be in the picture, you had to be wearing a costume.
I know.
So then she put the cowgirl hat on you.
CowBOY hat, you mean.
Ha! No. Cow. GIRL. Hat. It was pink. See?
So?
Everything i have is pink. My pink skull collar. My leash.
So?
So, that hat was supposed to be for me.
But…
It’s okay. I know that hat is mine just like the Yoda costume is mine, and both our dishes are mine, and all our toys are mine.
What?
After all, you were scared of the hat, too.
Was not.
Don’t lie, Yoda. I can see in this picture how you can barely hold your head up.
That’s because, um, that hat is, um… heavy.
Heavy, my left paw!
It was!
I don’t think so. Your head was drooping like that because you were scared, scared, scared!
Well…
And then our person started laughing and felt sorry for you. She took off that hat and put that stupid pumpkin shirt on you. At least your ears stood up for the picture, but I know you were scared.
How do you know?
When our person told you to sit up on the stairs for the picture, you wouldn’t move.
What do you mean?
You just sat there frozen, like you couldn’t move in that shirt.
I couldn’t! My muscles froze solid. That shirt is haunted.
It’s not, Yoda. You’re just a scaredy dog. I can’t believe our person had to LIFT you up onto the stairs while you were wearing that shirt.
Well, at least this Howl-o-ween thing is over.
Hate to tell you, brother, but it’s not over yet. And after that there are the holidays. You remember, when our people put up the–
Don’t say it!
The TREE.
No!
And they tear open wrapped gifts.
No!
And give you all kinds of new toys that you’re terrified of.
No! We have enough of those.
Maybe YOU have enough, but I can never get enough of those squeaky–
No!
bouncy–
No!
crinkly–
No!
toys!
Yoda? Yoda, where did you go?
Oh, I see. At the mention of “toys,” Yoda has fled the scene. He’s probably hiding in his little house. Ha! While he’s away, here is a picture of him last holiday season. Our people were putting a tree inside our house, and he was watching from a far distance.
Fraidy-dog Yoda hiding from the tree, of all things!
I was so close, they kept stepping on me. I can’t think of anything more fun, fun, fun! And speaking of scaredy dogs, here is a picture of a corgi-lantern our person made. It’s based on the most cowardly corgi in the universe, aka my brother.
Well, until next time, Leia Corgi signing out. Oh, and remember to send me those peanut butter treats!
A Guest Post from Leia the Mouser
Leia, here. I was all set to brag about my feat this weekend involving a mouse, but my person says it wasn’t nice. She doesn’t know I’m here typing away, so keep it quiet, will ya?
So we were outside. It’s my favorite, favorite, favorite place to be when the weather’s just so, and my person was busy pulling up weeds. I had already eaten all the dirt clumps I felt like, so I needed something else to entertain me. Well, my person was pulling up some vines, and out pops a little black mouse. I’m “quick as a cat,” my person says, and before anyone knew what was happening, I had the mouse trapped under my paw. My person saw and yelled at me very loud.
“Leave it,” she screamed.
I wish I didn’t know what that means, but I do. So I had to let the mouse go.
But I’m not stupid, I tell ya. I knew my person would turn back to her weeding sure enough. She kept watching me, though. Here’s a picture of me at full alert, waiting for that stinkin’ mouse:
Well, sure enough, my person turned back to her gardening. See, I laid down in the grass so my person thought I lost interest. Stupid person. She’s so easy to train. She was trying to pull out an especially tough weed, and I knew it was my chance. I had seen where the mouse went—right into a patch of tall grass. I knew it was only a matter of time before it would try to get away. Well, let’s just say I took advantage of the opportunity.
My person turned around with a handful of weeds and saw me rolling in something. Here’s what she said, very calmly to start off:
“Leia, if you’re rolling in something that stinks, then when we get inside you’re going to get a—Ahhh! Leia, that’s a dead mouse you’re rolling in! Stop that! Stop it now! Leave it! Leave it! Leave it!”
Like I said, I know what “leave it” means, but I could tell my person wasn’t going to come too close. Hearing all the noise, my brother had already run toward the house, and my person was running toward the house, too, saying something about getting a shovel, a towel, and a bottle of soap. I had about forty seconds all to myself, and I made the most of it. I wish my person had taken a picture—she takes a picture of just about everything I do, but she said she didn’t want to get this one on film.
Well, out she comes with her friend, a shovel, a towel, and some soap, and I knew my fun was over.
I tried to go up and say hi to her friend, but he just shook his head and called me a little murderer and a terror!
A terror?
Hmph!
I’d like to see him catch a mouse with his bare paws–err, hands, that is.
Anyway, the mouse was shoveled into a compost bag, the soap was deployed, and I suffered the indignity of getting an outdoor bath—in front of all the neighbors!—with a cold, harsh hose. The nerve!
I showed her. As soon as she finished washing me, I wiped all that nasty water off on a pile of potting soil.
Then I got another bath!
I’m telling you, it just wasn’t worth it.
Just kidding, it was.
Uh oh, my person is coming. You didn’t read this, okay? But if you did happen to read it, and enjoyed it, feel free to send me a cookie. My favorite are peanut butter flavored. My address is Leia Corgi, PO Box—oops, gotta run!
Corgi Capers Updates
The Corgi Move: An Update
Since I last checked in, the corgis were getting adjusted to their new home. Now that they’ve had time to settle in, here is an update.
First, the corgis finally seem like they know this is “home.” It took a while—it was at least two months before they would actually sleep in their beds. Here they are in the bed in my writing office:
Prior to that, they had to be glued to my feet during every waking hour. Still, they don’t like being alone when I’m home. Every weekend, they wake me up earlier than I get up during the week—just to be able to sleep while I’m downstairs with them. (Either that, or they’re trying to tell me I should be up writing rather than sleeping!). Here’s a picture of Leia just moments after crying pathetically to get me out of bed:
“I wasn’t ready to wake up yet. I just didn’t want to sleep without you!”
Secondly, Yoda, the fraidy-dog, is still—well, afraid. He’s not super bright, and he’s gotten “lost” a few times in the house. We have a double stairway—a front staircase and a back one. Yoda has a habit of sneaking into the dining room, which is gated off on only one door. He sits at the gate, staring into the kitchen, and acts forlorn that he cannot get through the gate. His sister has to run around the long way and “get” him for me.
The other day, he snuck into the dining room, couldn’t figure out how to get back, and ended up going up one staircase, getting “lost” in the upstairs hallway, barking his “distress bark,” and finally finding his way down the back staircase. The house isn’t that big, but like I said—Yoda is good, but not too bright. His favorite activities in the new house include sniffing all the air vents in the floors and rolling his back against the bottom stair in the family room.
There are a few empty boxes I’ve saved because the corgis still love to sleep in them. Here’s a picture of them after a long, hard morning of chasing the green laser around:
“We have a tough life!”
Leia, on the other hand, has been more mischievous. She is giving Corgi Capers character Sapphie a run for her money. Slowly, Leia has been sneaking upstairs (they aren’t allowed on the second floor of the house to prevent back injuries from excessive stair use) to “mark” each of the rooms upstairs. She only has two left to “mark.” The thing is, she knows she isn’t supposed to pee on the floor, and as soon as she does it, she runs down and claws at me, crying, so that I know she was bad. I guess the dogs that used to live in this house have left their scents, and it must be driving Leia crazy.
One of Leia’s favorite activities is to visit with the frogs and toads that frequent our patio once the sun goes down. Here’s a picture of her with the largest of her buddies:
Their invisible fence training is going well. Scared-y Yoda is terrified of the “warning beep” made by the fence, and he won’t go even halfway to the edge of his boundary. If I go too far, he turns his back to me, sits, and stares at the house. Out of sight, out of mind, I suppose. Leia will test the boundaries all the way up to the “zap.” The beeping warning does not compute in her mind—she doesn’t associate it with the zap. And she has allowed herself to be zapped a few times to chase a deer or two. She seems to be calming down now.
Lots of fodder for Corgi Capers book 3, which is in the works. Because I’m slightly behind schedule, I’m leaving my “name that cat contest” open for a bit longer. Be part of Corgi Capers history and name a human or feline character:
Speaking of which—to encourage more readers to post reviews, I am offering a free Kindle copy of Corgi Capers book 2 for anyone who posts a review of Corgi Capers book 1 on Amazon. To receive your free book, simply email me the URL of your Amazon.com review, using the email address you use to shop on Amazon. I’ll send you a copy of Corgi Capers book 2 in hopes that if you enjoy it, you’ll leave a review for that book as well.
Thanks for reading. Stay cool, and stay corgi!
The Moving Chronicles: Part 4
It’s been over a month since the move, and the corgis have been settling in slowly. When we first moved in, they were on their very best behavior. Here is a picture of them on the very first morning in the new house. They had been there but ten minutes and already seemed to know they were not allowed upstairs, just like in the townhome.
Seemed is a key word.
At the vet’s recommendation, we try to limit the amount of stairs the corgis conquer each day (because of potential back problems—their father broke his leg and injured his back doing the corgi version of acrobatics). When I went upstairs to unpack some boxes, they stayed without any physical restraint, patiently waiting for me to return.
We are being good dogs!
It wasn’t a day later that Leia was doing laps around the house, up one staircase and down the next. Yoda, good as always, stayed put. We soon acquired three child safety gates to keep her downstairs during the move.
Next, the sleeping arrangements. At the old house, the corgis had a very large, open kitchen that could be easily gated from the rest of the house via a large safety gate. The floor, vinyl, was easily cleaned, and Leia’s slopping around in the water dish (she dips her paws while she drinks if we’re not watching) didn’t cause any problems. Because the new house has a very different layout, there was no large, cleanable space available. The only choices: crate the corgis or let them have the run of (most of) the downstairs floor.
We decided to trust them, and for three nights, they proved that they would sleep all night in their beds, spend time when people were away in the kitchen, and not go on furniture or anywhere else they weren’t allowed.
Or so I thought.
One morning, I decided to sneak downstairs quickly and snap a picture before the dogs had time to react. Note that each morning, Leia had been sleeping next to her brother, either on the floor or in her dog bed. But here is what the picture proved:
Yes, Leia is a sneak. She had been sleeping on the couch and jumping off when she heard me getting ready upstairs. You would think the solution would be to crate them at night, but no–as cute as they are, the solution was just to make sure I covered the couch really well with the blanket next time 🙂
For a few days, the corgis enjoyed the new house without incident (unless you count Leia puking twice on the nice, stainless carpets an incident). Leia seemed comfortable almost right away:
I love watching the world upside-down!
Yoda, still afraid of everything, followed his sister around and watched everything from a distance. After watching Leia “help” to unpack books twice, Yoda decided finally to help:
Who needs books when you have us?!
Inside the house, the corgis had settled in nicely. But outside… a whole new world.
The new house has a very large yard, and it’s only fenced in by a horse fence–a corgi could easily escape. It also came with an invisible fence. But when we first moved in, the corgis seemed hesitant, staying only very close to the house or to me. They’d previously lived only in a townhome with a tightly-fenced, small yard. This was a big change for them. I thought I’d cut them a break and not train them on the invisible fence just yet. We were scheduled to go away for a week (the corgis were staying with their dog cousin Buster), and I decided to commence training after we returned. But once again, adventurous Leia spoiled those plans. One morning, at dark:thirty, Leia lit out after a group of deer about a quarter mile away. Sharing her excitement, Yoda followed her. I screamed at them, of course, and Yoda stopped almost immediately, plopping on his back so I could put his leash back on. Leia did not stop.
You’ll understand why I don’t have a picture!
Though Leia will listen indoors, when she’s outside, she is distracted by anything. I was screaming her name, shouting any tone I could think of–anger, fear, control, calm–and nothing got through to her. She was feral. It wasn’t until she hit the treeline two yards down (and the deer disappeared into the woods) that she turned around, realized she was being called, and ran back. She ducked under the fence and immediately plopped onto her back in ultimate submission. I didn’t yell at her, but she knew I was mad. All that morning, she followed me around the house, cuddling as much as possible. I’m telling you: it’s impossible to stay mad at Leia.
Still, it necessitated an earlier-than-expected invisible fence training. And that will be the subject of the last of the moving chronicles. See you next time.
Corgi Capers 