Writing my dog

I have a dog named Doll. It’s a little fluffy Pekingese. We gave her the nickname because she really reminds us of a funny toy, only a living toy.

The doll is amazingly beautiful. A flattened face with very attentive, intelligent eyes. Sometimes, when she looks at me, it seems to me that the Doll understands me, feels my mood. She jumps on my lap and starts rubbing against my hands, demanding affection. I stroke her over a long soft coat and gradually forget about the alarm.

The doll is a small dog. Once upon a time the Pekingese breed was bred to the royal palace. These beautiful and graceful dogs served as a complement to the attire of the queen or the decoration of the palace. I often admire the beauty of my dog. She is long-haired. The wool is soft, thick and fluffy. Long ears Puppets hang down almost to the floor. When she was very small, she often stepped on her ears and fell.

Now she never allows herself to step on them. Her gait is important and graceful. When we go for a walk, the Doll beautifully puts his fluffy tail on his back, and steps out in a royal way, all the way by showing that she is not a simple dog, but special.

I love my Doll. We play together. Often she sleeps with me on the bed, stretching along my body. Sometimes I wake up from her snoring. After all, Pekingese have a very short muzzle, so they often snore. But from this it becomes only more amusing. The doll is very devoted. She will never approach a stranger, even a delicious treat.

Once I wanted to have a big shepherd who will fulfill my commands, protect me. Now I do not need any other dog except my Doll.

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Writing my dog