There might ye ſee the pioney ſpread vvide, / The full-blovvn roſe, the ſhepherd and his laſs, /Lap-dog and lambkin vvith black ſtaring eyes, / And parrots vvith tvvin cherries in their beak.
Frau von Greifenstein had seated herself in a straw chair with her parasol, her fan and her lap-dog, a little toy terrier which was always suffering from some new and unheard-of nervous complaint.
Prime Minister Gordon Brown, who vacations in Cape Cod, has nevertheless been […] determined to shed the image of his predecessor, Tony Blair, as America’s lap dog.
“Doesn't matter. That man is not the leader.” “But he is the main guy on the show.” “He is an actor, Nandor. A simpleton who paints his face. He is an empty-headed puppet who thinks the world loves him, when in actual fact, he is nothing more than a lapdog begging for scraps.” [groans] “No, he is not the leader. That would be another devil who pulls the strings. The halfwit they call the director.”