Me and my pup take fashion pictures together. You know this already. I pose... she sniffs my foot. I twirl around all girly like... and she tries to play with my dancing feet. I look down at the ground...she longingly looks up into my eyes. We're quite the pair of girly girls you see.
So imagine yesterday I tell my little Indian, I say, " Indie!! You wanna go take pictures!!" and she gets all happy like and darts straight for the door. We're out working the camera...she did a little blue steal..I did a little Tyra smeysing, and then all of the sudden I hear these shrill whines and I'm thinking, "Listen Indie, don't be all jealous that I can work the camera better than you. It comes with age, one day you shall be as good as muah." But then I realize I'd clumsily stomped on her little paw.
And I felt like a wretch.
I never really understood completely what the word wretch meant while sleepily skimming through Frankenstein in my Freshman english class. Oh but now I knew.
She limped around all sad and droopy eyed. While I could do nothing but hold her and tell her like a little goob that I was sorry.
Yes, that must be what a wretch feels like.
But not too worry, I kind of bribed her with my affections.
- I brought her up to me and Sir Matt's bed and cuddled her like nobody's business (she's never allowed on the bed...when Matt's around that is)
- I gave her seventy milk bones and as she ate them I rubbed that golden spot behind her ears that makes her leg thump like crazy.
- I found her a new stick to tear apart...all over the house.
- Oh and I forgave her of all of her trespasses. To name a few: puking in the car, pooping in my sewing room while staring me straight in the eyes (that fiend!), and stinking up our bedroom at night with her nasty doggy farts.
So clear slate Indie? All is forgiven right? Even Stevens (I cherish Shia LaBeouf's awkward years of hawaiian tees and braces don't you)??
P.S. This skirts for sale in the shop. You want?