Molly and I were brushing Jigs last night on the kitchen floor–while I was making dinner. Right off the bat, you’re sure you don’t want to eat at my house. That works out since I don’t really like company, anyway.
But it gets worse. We were taking turns “brushing” him with our bare feet. A long swipe down the back produced a pile of dog hair to be picked up and tossed away. It was a very satisfying and companionable activity while we were chatting about wedding plans and making stir fry --a sweet mother-daughter-dog moment.
Maid-of-honor, reception dinner, Molly ran her foot down the dog's back and picked up the hair ball. Tuxedoes, flowers, table runners, I took my turn petting and grooming the dog in the laziest way possible.
As is usually the case when I’m home and not expecting company, I wasn’t wearing a bra. When I leaned over to pick up the clumps of fluffy yellow dog hair, the girls were dancing and swinging over poor Jigs’s head. I’m sure he thought I had a couple of squirrels in my shirt and he couldn’t resist. With remarkable speed in a dog that fat, he attacked.
I’m sorry to report, I got nipple-nipped. I yelped and jumped back. That sort of thing really takes the fun right out of grooming your dog with your foot.
The mood was gone.
I went back to stirring shrimp and asparagus and wondering how a girl would explain a dog bite on the nipple if she had to go to the emergency room. Molly went back to her big wedding binder and To Do list.
Jigs looked around eagerly, wondering where those squirrels went.
4 comments:
Oh, I'm so glad you shared your blog with me. I don't feel nearly as alone; your home life feels VERY familiar to me!
Diana, does this mean I should bring my own dog-hair sandwich if I come over for dinner?
Um, no. Plenty to go around!
Here's another example. About a month ago I became obsessed with sourdough. (I don't know.) I wondered what would happen if I were to follow the most bare-bones attempt to "catch" wild yeast from the air and I put some flour and water in a jar and covered it loosely with cheesecloth and then tucked it away in the back of a cupboard. And then had knee surgery.
You want to know what happens? I don't think you do. It's hard to clear the air of what happens, though, I'll tell you that.
TOO FUNNY! Love the mother-daughter-dog moment. LOL!
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