So, if you followed me over here either from the C-Myste blog or from my comments on one of a zillion corgi blogs, hi! And if you're one of my regular readers (all two of you), bear with me while I rhapsodize about The Corgi.
We've had Rufus, a.k.a. Da Woof, Woofenheimer, Roof-roof, Midget Hound, Rotten Hound, Woofa Bear, and The Long-Haired, Short-Legged Great American Trash Hound for about eleven years now. Or maybe twelve. That is up for debate here at Casa Builder Mama. He is a Cardigan Welsh Corgi straight from York, England. It's kind of a long story how we got him, but he's ours and despite the fact he's probably more cat-like than dog-like, we love him.
I have had a corgi obsession forever. I love them - all colors, shapes, sizes, you name it. I prefer Cardigans (the ones with the tail) more than Pembrokes, probably because I just think a dog needs a tail. Period.
Corgis are kind of rare here in the South. Everyone and their brother has a Labrador or a Golden Retriever or some sort of hunting dog. I had one instance where I took Rufus somewhere and a woman actually asked me if he was a small German Shepherd with surgically altered legs. Seriously? If I had that kind of money, I'd be getting a tummy tuck and a boob job, not sawing a dog's legs off.
Just to show you how unusual it is to see one, I went to a local dog bakery to acquire a fancy birthday cake for His Royal Highness and lo and behold - there was a Cardigan Welsh Corgi there! I squealed like a Justin Bieber fan, knocked a bunch of old ladies out of the way, and probably scared the poor owner to death by mauling her in the store. Luckily, she didn't have her stun gun with her and she was very tolerant of my questions and the fact I was all over her dog. He was absolutely adorable and had the softest Corgi coat ever (attributed to New Zealand bloodlines, whaddaya know? And I thought my British import was fancy.).
Lately, I have been plotting and planning to (hopefully) acquire a new furry member of the family. I hope it all comes to fruition, because I will be crushed if it doesn't. And I will be reduced to lurking outside the dog bakery, waiting for that poor New Zealand import to come wandering in again, completely unaware that some nutty woman is hiding behind the chihuahua tutus, just waiting....