A tiny, excitable, and mischievous Papillion describes the nature of playful Charlie. No more than a foot tall and a meager ten pounds, this jumpy fur-ball puppy is a blur of white fluff and splashes of auburn fur. In the winter, the russet-colored hair on his large butterfly ears spreads out like wires, brimming with static and making him look manic. His white snout, made imperfect with one sandy blotch on the side of his muzzle, parts at his black lips when he stretches his maw into a sharp, squeaky yawn. At the tip of his muzzle, he wiggles a tiny black nose the size of a pom-pom and as wet as dark pavement after rain. On either side of his pom-pom nose, bunny-like whiskers stem straight out, one set of whiskers black, the other white. His paws come to a point with frazzled tufts of fur covering dagger-like nails he sometimes forgets about. When he races around the room in play, these nails can be heard shredding the carpet, and he pants joyfully. His long horse tail whips behind him, and his great black eyes twinkle like stars on a breeze-blown river. When he spins around to face a surprise human pursuer, he reveals the soaked sock in his mouth. With every step the human makes, Charlie pounces onto the floor in play position, his jaws clamped unyieldingly over the forbidden sock. His eyes glitter mischievously under a rim of black fur that looks like eyeliner. When he finally surrenders his prey, the smelly slime of dog-slobber ruins the sock forever. Nonetheless, Charlie expects a treat; he gave up his catch, did he not? He becomes a spring and jumps around the human until he gets his reward, then charges away to a cozy spot on the rug. He curls into a ball and eats his treat in peace like a tiny angel.
Charlie the Papillion
June 13, 2011