The eldest and biggest of the litter was a dog cub, and when he drew his first breath he was less than five inches long from his nose to where his tail joined his back-bone.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
The former measured six feet and an inch in his stockings, and, without a single pound of cumbrous flesh about him, weighed a hundred and eighty. The latter was an inch shorter than his rival, and ten pounds lighter; but he was much the most active of the two.
As my mum still candidly says, I was the runt of the litter.
Before I was born, my mom and my dad, they used to rescue dogs, so at one point, they had 13 dogs. And they were all from different litters. It wasn't like they were bred. They were all from different people. And they were all different ages. When I grew up at my dad's house, I think we had seven at one point.
It is not the size of the dog in the fight that counts, but the size of the fight in the dog.
The first pet I remember was a cat called Baby. She would sleep with me, and I could call her from anywhere, and she would come running.
It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog.
I've always had quite long canines. It's a very strange thing. My parents don't have them.
In the land of the skunks he who has half a nose is king.
I have a cat. When I was younger, I had a guinea pig.
My mum loves cats so I took her to see the lion cubs which at about a year old are actually quite big. She wasn't scared at all and went straight over and kissed one on the mouth! She thought they were just like her pets at home.