Pawprints (2): Pippa, femme fatale

Pippa lives in France, in the south-western corner. The first evening she visited our house for dinner she peed three times – one of the rugs took several days to dry. We immediately forgave her (it was actually our fault, for giving her too much to drink, and not taking her out). She is a big-capacity dog in other departments, too. Her friends know her as beautiful, cunning, at times ferocious and with a fondness for lying flat on the sidewalk outside her masters house, checking that everything is normal around the village square. Sometimes she glides away, on silent paws, towards the village restaurant. There she happily eats Maigret de Canard and other classy titbits offered by the guests. She has been known, at such times, to develop a sudden deafness, letting her mistress calls go unheeded.
Pippa hates cats, and gives chase as often as possible. She also likes to tease bigger dogs that are secure behind a garage door or a fence. When she gets a present from one of her many human admirers, she usually tears it to pieces within seconds. Toys generally are too soft for terriers anyway. Pippa is a very nice girl, and is a welcome and frequent guest at our place. She is a Cairn terrier.