Fashion Plate

If you like Texas Jot, please take a look at my other blog, Fashion Plate. It is the home of my handmade retro Barbie clothes and lots of delicious recipes from my cookbooks.

Thursday, April 23, 2009

A Dog's Life

A few months ago, The Ones adopted. I was gently reminded that I was the last person to send a gift. I am embarrassed. After all, the author of an etiquette book should know better. It was just that I hadn't previously considered getting a new pet a gift giving situation. Being remiss, I sent Dog the bone-of-the-month-club from Boston Baked Bonz.

Although I know better than to reveal a woman's age, I think Dog would not mind me saying that she is all of four years old. She arrived at her new digs only after careful scrutiny from the adoptive agency. I can't remember all the conditions The Ones had to fulfill, but I know it included that Dog would not be an outside pet and they had two weeks to sign up with a Vet.

The Ones, being professional folks, do not take their duty lightly. Dog has all the best, including a mid-day walker. Her restriction to the kitchen was merely a figment of the their imagination. She has full roaming privileges. When The Ones vacationed, Dog went to the Ritz-Carlton of doggieland, where she received a hand written report card for each day of her stay. She has been groomed and massaged and generally treated like a princess which has facilitated her blossoming from a tail between the legs sad-sack to a full fledged tail-wagging, happy pup.

Unfortunately, or fortunately for my oriental rugs, Dog is two pounds too heavy to fly in the airplane cabin. Now it is being suggested that I come to meet Dog. The problem with this is that:
1. Dog lives in a cold climate.
2. I don't like to travel, change planes, be in airports, etc
3. I don't like animals, but they always seem to want to be my friend.

In fact, the only reason I do fly is for graduations, weddings or babies, especially babies, especially grandbabies. Not that I think it unfortunate that Only's cousin is a dog, but I can't seem to muster the same affections for dog poop as I do for dirty baby diapers. I'm going to have to work up to this.

No comments:

Post a Comment