Monday, June 26, 2006

Chicken Scraps

Would you believe it? Grandma knew I was going to bring Bobby in for a visit tonight, so she saved some chicken pieces for him! She is ever thoughtful. I thought I'd surprise her and had him groomed this morning. It was time, and it's too hot for him to have long hair. The only problem was, my 4:00 appointment didn't come until 4:30 and the groomer closes @ 5:00! (There's a fine if you're late) Chuggy was coming to sew some last minute things, so she went to pick him up while I dealt with a size 24 bride trying to get into a size 18 wedding dress..."It fit when I bought it!" No, really?
I couldn't even get the back closer than 6" apart. You would have been proud of me though, it was an effort to be professional and ask her to come back when it wasn't so hot, she wasn't so sticky, wearing the right under-garments, the right slip, the right shoes(?). In the end, I told her to go back to the bridal store and ask them to show her just how they did it, gotten her into the dress, or else get her money back as they'd sold her the wrong size. sigh.
I came home from work yesterday and didn't hear my usual welcoming committee. Bobby always barks a long and loud welcome every evening, when he hears the garage door open. Not last night. I thought I'd sneak in and see just what was hindering him. There he was, in front of the fan (which I leave on all day) on mom's bed. I guess there are things worthy of leaving a fan and there are things that just aren't! I fell down the totem pole.
BTW, she didn't save ME any of her ice cream, you know. There ought to be a law.

2 Comments:

At 11:04 PM, Blogger knitterykate said...

Believe it or not we need to use our fan here in the "cold" country of Canada. I think we're breaking heat records. I feel sorry for the animals with lots of fur. Poor Bobby. Moe sprawls on the wood floor like a rabbit, but refuses to stay in the basement where it's cooler. It must be the rug.

 
At 12:06 AM, Blogger Jailgy said...

Bobby is smart. I think Chase has a screw loose or something. It is 106 degrees outside and he sits in the hallway and barks as if to say, "Why don't we go out for a nice long walk?" I ask him, "Are you kidding?" Then he sprawls out on the cool tile floor. Come to think of it, maybe he was just asking me to make the nice cool floor less slippery so he could traverse it more easily.

 

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