The Latest Improvement to the House that Rocks.

In my next life, I'm coming back as my dog. Not anybody's dog - my dog. I still have to work out the logistics of that idea.

The 3 Stooges live the Life of Riley. They are loved, fed, soothed, cuddled, placated and have cost us extortionate amounts of money.

Sascha is currently the $7500 dog. At the ripe old age of 11, she has survived 2 bouts of cancer, 2 lots of chemotherapy over 24 months in total and a benign lympoma that was cutting off the circulation to her groin. She has lumps and bumps, passes copious amounts of noxious gases, hyperventilates during thunderstorms and pushes the covers up with her nose in order to plant a cold wet nasal prod in the middle of Michael's warm back. During diagnosis for her last cancer, one vet recommended euthanasing her. We sought a second opinion. Our original Perth vet successfully operated on Sascha, removing her spleen and all suspect tissue. The ensuing 12 months was pretty tough, but the terminal Weimaraner is now better, fitter and more joyous than ever.

Ruby has had some perilous episodes as well. Her nose gets her into repeated trouble, due to the brain bypass she suffers whilst on a scent. We rarely let her off the lead on walks, due to her propensity for vanishing with no warning. She has consumed over ripe cocos palm nuts leading to gastritis, attempted to electrocute herself chomping on a live lead, consumed something enormous after sneaking away from us and thrown up all over the living room when she returned home. Her favourite food, after food, is hard plastic. Pegs, suitcase wheels, drawer handles, wall plugs, door stops, bath plugs and tupperware have all suffered irreparable harm. Due to her complete lack of common sense, we have to move her into the shade in summer, lest she suffer a repeat of the sunstroke that saw her overnight in hospital on  IV fluids!

Pip is just a ratbag. A rescued dog, he had been beaten by an abusive owner, dumped in the pound and been rehomed with a foster carer all before he arrived to live with me. From the first day, Pip has shown impeccable taste. He adored Sascha on sight, enjoys the odd spot of chasey with the cat, occasionally abandons Sascha to sleep with Ruby and Michael (Pip's Big Daddy) is his knight in shining armour.One of his real gifts in recognising the rotter. I should have trusted Pip sooner when he bit an extremely unsavoury man I was seeing. His only less than redeeming characteristic is his tendency to bite anyone (including familiar friends) if they try to enter our back yard through the gate. Bugger the bigger dogs, beware of the Jack Russell.

And so we come to their latest acquisition of comfort. The dogs have all slept on a variety of mats, dog beds, blankets, and surreptitiously our bed when they think nobody is looking. Living in a small house has meant their sleeping arrangements are messy and intrusive. There had to be a better solution.

Michael and Guy (drummer, handyman, designer, manufacturer and great friend) devised a cunning plan. The result appeared in our laundry this afternoon. Pip, Ruby and Sascha have a deluxe double storey canine condominium, an up market doggie donga resplendent under a newly fitted laundry bench. Ruby has already tested the upper storey for comfort and given it the paws'up. Sascha and Pip have yet to try it out, but that will come soon.

And stuff them, if they don't like their new bed, it looks good enough for overflow visitors to the House that Rocks!