Leonie had a dog. It was a Löwchen. She’d paid thousands of dollars for it. It ran relatively free in her yard. His name was Hans although he had a long thoroughbred name: Hans Christian Anderson Hans Sachs Lowland Löwchen III.
Rosie lived down the road. She had a Yorkshire Terrier cross, called Cassie. She would take Cassie for a walk every day. They would pass Hans’ house. Hans and Cassie would sniff each other’s bottoms through the fence, as friends do.
“Wouldn’t it be lovely,” said Rosie one day to Leonie as she passed, “if we crossed Hans with Cassie!”
“I beg your pardon?” said Leonie. “I charge three thousand dollars for Hans to father pups. And we don’t do crosses. He’s a purebred Löwchen. Goodness! Who do you think we are? I wouldn’t allow it even if you paid twice the amount. Especially not with your ugly mongrel mutt.”
Rosie was hurt and cross. “Such snobbery!”
Rosie’s dog, Cassie the Yorkshire Terrier cross, came into season. “Goodness!” thought Rosie, “today is Wednesday. That’s when everyone goes to play bridge at the Club.”
She took Cassie for her daily walk. They returned home several hours later. Rosie made a cup of tea. She was feeling very pleased with herself.