Post by Chestnut on Jul 14, 2013 7:19:48 GMT -5
Name: Devon
Age: 3 years
Breed: English Springer Spaniel
Gender: Female
Appearance: Devon is very average in appearance for Springer Spaniels; she has liver and white markings, her coat is long(ish) with a coarse, wavy texture. She stands 17 in at the withers and weighs 35 Ibs. Devon has light, wavy feathers at the end of her paws. Devon has long pendant ears, a slight dewlaps and slight dangling flews, her tail is docked. Devon has deep, round chocolate eyes. In all, her body is compact, made for sport.
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Personality: Devon is a very high-class, proper, snobbish, uptight kind of lady. She takes herself in high regard and doesn't usually socialize with those she deems below her. She doesn't think herself as perfect, but she thinks she's pretty close. Devon comes from a proud breeding, her fathers and so forth winning national retrieving champions, even winning a few herself when she lived back in England. Devon has a very posh London accent, mainly it's for show, her accent is actually very laid-back and sounds more like a Kent accent, however, when she was purchased by a London couple, she quickly switched it up, hearing the dogs of her new home having sticks up their arse, she didn't want to be the odd one out. Devon takes great pride in her appearance, making sure her coat is spotless before she'd let another dog see her. Although most of her qualities seem stereotypical and unlikable, Devon has a love for the water, like most of her breed and is actually very loyal and affectionate to those close to her, and can even get overprotective of them, fussing over their well-being and their coats. Devon always walks with a sense of pride and regality, not letting others faze her glory. But even Devon has her faults, hers being abandonment issues. After being left suddenly by her humans, Devon fears that she'll be all alone again, therefore, tries to stray away from other canines to keep her mind sane.
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History: Devon was born in Gillingham, Kent, England in a small town house of a dog breeder. From the time she was born she held herself above the rest, being the strongest of the litter. Her breeder would take them outside the city to a lake where they'd practice their retrieving skills when they were old enough, and Devon showed potential. She entered her first competition when she was almost a year, she had won by a landslide. Devon went on to win several championships in her year as 1 year old. Her breeder sold her to a couple in Wimbledon, London, who were filthy rich with old money and took great pride in it. Devon adjusted into her town fairly quick, liking the scene, being recognized for her talent and beauty. In her new home, Devon became a companion to the lady, who was beyond gorgeous and wanted Devon to be as well. She got exclusive baths, rhinestone collars, and all the attention in the world. But this was due to the fact the Lady couldn't get pregnant, and desperately longed for a child. The gentleman had bought her for her Lady's loneliness, hoping it would sooth her sadness. It did for awhile, but the Lady still wished for children, so, the couple packed up their London mansion, trading it for a mansion out in New York. There, the lady and gentleman had adopted their first child, just a toddler a lady from somewhere in Ireland had left behind after she'd succumbed to her illness. Devon became a thing of the past, they still gave her baths and all the luxuries of being rich, but she was utterly alone. She tried for her humans attention, becoming desperate, she ripped up the flowerbeds, peed on the carpets, barked at nothing, chased the neighborhood cats around all for her humans attention, even if it was just scolding, it was better than being ignored. The new parents became fed up with Devon's misbehavior and took to more harsh ways of training her. The gentleman would hit her with a crop if she got out of hand, although it didn't really hurt, Devon has a few scattered, small scars here and there, mainly undetectable from the fur that covers it or it isn't in plain sight. When the couple has instructed a servant to take Devon out for a walk to a near by lake for her to swim, the spaniel was delighted, thinking her humans had once again loved her. When she was returned, the furniture was gone and so was her family. Devon didn't know where they'd gone, but she hung around the house for a few days, hoping for their return, but the person that came knocking at the door was the pound. Devon, confused and frightened, raced from the house with the still intact doggy door, racing off with the gold rush. She traveled with the hopeful citizens of her new American home until getting lost in a furry of sand storms, ending up in a Colorado town.
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