QUOTE : Perita is the dog,” Gracie said, in a tone which implied Rosalind was a dimwit for having not immediately understood this.<br /><br />“You packed for a dog. Yes, I see.” The young dog was a lovely chocolate brown with the typical black mastiff mask. “She has quite a big head,” Rosalind observed.<br /><br />“Of course, she does.” Gracie sounded affronted by her sister’s ignorance. “That’s the breed. Her mother, Medea, was even bigger than Hercules, you know.”<br /><br />Rosalind was impressed. Hercules was the size of a small pony. At least, that’s how it seemed when he was flying through the halls of Sweetbriar and came barreling unexpectedly around a corner.<br /><br />“Why Perita? Don’t you mean Perdita?”<br /><br />“Not Shakespeare, silly. Alexander the Great.” Gracie was looking disgusted once more. “Well, his was Peritas as it was male. I’ve feminized it. Did you know Peritas bit off an elephant’s face when it tried to charge Alexander once?”<br /><br />“Bit it off?”<br /><br />“Probably not completely off. At least, I hope not. But I suppose it would have been justified if Peritas was protecting his master from being trampled to death,” Gracie said, looking thoughtful. “I’m sure Perita would do the very same for me. Or you.” She rubbed the pup’s head affectionately.<br /><br />“Yes. How lovely.” Rosalind decided not to imagine what a faceless elephant would look like.