Lap dogs are usually associated with tiny furballs such as chihuahuas, papillons or pomeranians.
Some people refer to them as rats on a stick or fashion accessories (those who are polite anyway).
I have no problems with small dogs, though I prefer something a little bigger than my foot or one that stands taller than my ankle. Saying that though, we met a pair of cute friendly long haired chihuahuas on our walk yesterday. They have been quite reserved with us in the past, but yesterday it was all waggy tails and acceptance of offered biscuits (with owners permission of course).
By definition, a lap dog is a dog that is both small enough to be held in the arms or lie comfortably on a person’s lap and temperamentally predisposed to do so.
Lapdogs are not a specific breed, but is a generic term for a type of dog of small size and friendly disposition.
Er, no. Not always.
Take ours. She’s not only a lap dog, but a foot dog, knee dog, back dog, arm dog, shoulder dog, in fact anywhere-I-can-fit-on-you dog where she can curl up and be really close. This does not mean she’s clingy or paranoid though. She’s just exceedingly tactile and loving (traits she got from us) at times.
I suppose it started the day we brought her home. She was only 7 weeks old, and I slept on the floor with her that first night so that she didn’t get lonely. Well, she had been one of ten pups and there were four adult dogs as well on the farm afterall. We didn’t have a proper basket (we’d given away everything of our previous dog’s as seeing it there was just too painful) so made do with a chest drawer, old blanket and one of Hubby’s oldest jumpers. I woke up around 2 am to find her snuggled behind my shoulder. I took her out for a wee, then put her back in her drawer bed and went back to sleep. Next morning, she was curled up against my chest.
The vet gave her a thorough check up, saying we had a healthy dog and she had her first set of jabs. We hadn’t decided on a name when we went into the surgery, but by the time we’d got back to the car, she had been christened Maggie as she was a people magnet. Hubby had her tucked up inside his jacket and couldn’t go 5 paces without someone coming up to Oooh and Aaahh over our puppy. (Actually, she lived in his jacket on our outings until her final jabs, and whenever we took her somewhere new to socialise her and introduce her to city life, sounds, and people). The second night, he slept on the floor with her, and again, she snuggled in close.
We invested in a cage, and Hubby made a box to fit, putting the jumper and blanket we’d used in the drawer inside for her bed. We never used it as punishment, only for her safety if we had to go out and at night time. The door was open all the time we were there so she could go to her bed if she wanted somewhere quiet out of the way. She was quite content at night too as we’d put it in our bedroom, so she knew where we were.
My work at the office became frustrating, unsettled and extremely stressful for a variety of reasons, and I found it difficult to switch off at home. It then became her habit to get up on my lap after our evening meal for about fifteen minutes, after which she would get down, flop in front or behind my feet on the carpet, and go to sleep. This ritual occurred every work day for 2 years. Even when she was too big for my lap, she would perch herself half on the arm of the chair and the other half on my hip. Bedtime would find her curled up behind my knees, across my feet, or if it was really cold, she’d wedge herself between us. She still does.
We moved here over six years ago, but apart from a couple of novel jobs, I’ve been enjoying an early retirement. Just recently, she has started getting up on my lap again. 2013 was not a good year for us, and it’s as if she senses that I need that little extra TLC that only she can give. Our cuddles aren’t for long, and my lap isn’t as well padded as it used to be, but she snuggles in and as I stroke her, I can feel any tension just ebb away.