Sarah is our Great Dane. Or Not-So-Great Dane. At 80 lbs, she’s miniscule. Sometimes I call her my Tea Cup Dane. Like most Danes, she’s not good for much but cuddling, and Sarah is not even very good at that, having issues with feet and spooning and hugging, and having one utterance for every occasion, a noise that might be either a purr or a growl, but doesn’t have much of any relationship to what’s going on at the moment. She can be pressing her neck against my hand so I’ll rub it harder, and making this noise. Or discussing a foot too close to her tail, which in a moment will cause her to leap up and seek the shelter of her own bed.
Her only real talent seems to be shedding, which she does, regardless of season, at the pace of a much larger dog with a much vaster surface area. Every day she provides enough loose hair to cover two Sphynx Cats and a Naked Mole Rat. Naturally, this is a regular topic of conversation between Daffodil and myself, but today Princess D came up with a brilliant solution that may foreshadow a career in genetic engineering. I drew it up for her, and wrote down her text. It pretty much speaks for itself.