As you'll have noticed I like signs regarding the subject of dog poop. Not the bog standard (if you'll excuse the pun) ones that you see every day, but the more unusual ones. I've highlighted a few in this blog, and while going though old holiday photos I came across this beauty. Written in two languages, not just one, is a bonus, but the real joy is the illustration of the dog. I challenge you to name that breed!
It looks like the body of a Basset, the head a Dachshund, the tail of a Labrador, and legs made of cardboard tubes by the looks of them. There is the overall air of a Pharaoh Hound, or is it just me? Perhaps it most resemble a dog cross camel hybrid, which presumable is only to be found roaming the Welsh hills where its ability to survive droughts and howl at the moon is legendary. I haven't seen one in real life, but next time we pop over the border I'll keep my eyes peeled.
Talking of rare breeds, I noticed this in the Independent newspaper today. Just to reassure you that I have not converted to the quality end of the newspaper market, here's a similar article in the Daily Mail. Apparently the Sealyham, once popular with hollywood stars and royalty, is in decline, and in danger of becoming extinct. I remember as a child yearning for a dog of my own, making do with reading and re-reading a simple book with a small selection of dog breeds, and choosing which one I would have if my rotten mean parents ever agreed to letting me get a dog. (I think I may still bear the psychological scars from that time!)
Anyway, alongside the Labrador, the Golden Retriever and the German Shepherd on the pages of this book was the Sealyham. It looked a friendly, solid little dog, and I can remember being very taken with the description of it as a brave, cheerful companion. Now, the breed reminds me of a friend of mine who raised four children ably abetted by a Sealyham. She conjured up a marvelous image, saying that when it was time to leave for school in the morning, for some reason they avoided the front door, instead leaving via the garage. The wide garage door would be flung upwards with a bang, and in her words, she, the four children and the Sealyham would "sally forth" at great speed. I bet that dog had a wonderful life with four young companions to get up to mischief with.
There's probably almost as much danger for a breed in losing popularity as in gaining it; both have dangers associated. I hope the Sealyham doesn't disappear. If one of the breed clubs can arrange to have one seen in the arms of Paris Hilton, or maybe even Miley Cyrus, I think they just might make a come back.