The ideas of a Bobtail kennel did not rush into my mind with a sudden burst. It matured slowly, growing from a sincere love of and admiration for the breed, awaked by my dog, Billie, a half-bred Old English Bobtail Sheep-dog. Billie’s Bobtail half was crammed with the loyalty,…
He was crude, enormous, coarse; his fleshy hands had fingers like bananas. You could feel their weight in the way they swung at the end of his arms. Ridiculous that he should choose the Doll’s Flat for a home while he was grinding out the life of his little…
John was a young bachelor who for several years occupied my Doll’s Flat. One Christmas his mother sent him a plum pudding from England. It travelled in a white stone-ware basin, a perfect monster of a pudding. “Look at the thing!” John twirled it by its stained tie-down cloth.
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