Saturday, January 15, 2022

Poor Lucy

As I write, Lucy is pestering me. We are siting on the floor by the fire, but every time I place more than one hand on the keyboard, she swats at it, telling me to keep petting her. That behavior usually maddens me-- I can't spend all my time at the beck and call of anyone, least of all my dog, but today I'm giving her a pass, because she's had a tough one. 

Starting with a grooming appointment at nine, temps in the 20s that did not go with her new do, and another puzzle on the table, which took a lot of our attention. All first world problems. Oh, there is no doubt she's spoiled, but if there was?

This might be definitive proof otherwise:




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