The very same day we got Harry trimmed, was one of the colder ones on record this winter. This cold day was to be followed by many a colder one and about 8 inches of snow. I am not in King Harold's good graces. Here's the before:
And here's the After:
So cute right? His little orange preppy sweater just adds to the appeal. Thing is, it has been so cold he just shivers and quivers and lays in his kennel with his sweater and his extra sheepskin blanket . I've tried to make amends. Turned the heat up two degrees while I am work. Let him snuggle on my lap. Bought him some biscuits with a gravy coating on them. All for naught, 'cause you know what he did?
That's right. HE SHUT HIS EYES AT ME. Like I wasn't even there. Like I was dead to him. Like if he thought real hard about it with his eyes closed, maybe all his Harry hair would grow back.
And I thought, surely he didn't mean it. Whatever happened to that whole faithful companion thing? Woman's best friend? Puppy love? All he gave me was more of this.
I guess he really meant it. Sorry Harry, if you're trying to make me feel guilty, it's working.
Signing off from the doghouse,