Jager is my friend’s very stylish, handsome and well groomed dog. A little mutt who relishes his super fancy treats with a lot less enthusiasm than what the dustbin has on offer.
He secretly steals food from the children’s plates, eats small coconuts and grass and if left unsupervised will happpily slurp on the abundant insects we have at Narnia.
His master can invest in an exclusive doggie chef for him but he will still prefer the eclectic buffet services of the waste bin or when you are not looking take a bite off your food and pretend it was the Ant. ( Yes, this has happened)
This weekend he took it upon himself to roll in mud till he changed colour to brown, jump in the pool at any given opportunity and burst ALL the balloons that we blew for the kids. It did not matter if we hid them in the tent, he would find his way in and then proceed to burst them while my daughter yelled bloody murder.
Suffices to say she was not happy.
T’was that kindoff a weekend where we got haunted by a scary stalkerish blow-up flamingo ( picture included for reference), bitten by loads of insects that crawl out of holes once monsoon arrives, spent time with a very hungry dog and had some very fashionable old school laughs.
…Life is good.