No, no - before the rumor mill goes too far, I'm not quitting (can you quit a volunteer job?). This post is really about towels - the terry-cloth, bathtub type.
Before the most recent cold snap, I purchased new towels to replace some that were wedding gifts (twenty-five years ago). It was high time to retire them because they had gotten so thin and ratty they weren't much good anymore for drying off a whole human body - just parts. Being the fabric hoarder that I am, I thought they'd be great to keep by the door to wipe off Belle's muddy paws. Terrific idea, but Belle had another, as usual.
Since the demise of Baby, Belle has had no soft chew toys to gnaw on, rip apart, and drag the sad shreds around the house and yard. No problem - the towels work just fine, thank-you. Belle, wipe that guilty look off your face - you are so busted!
Sigh. I suppose I should be glad she prefers the towels to Ole the Cat. I know Ole is.
The Life of a Doting Grandmother
11 years ago
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This weekend I met a very perky 4 year old golden retriever named Maddie who has her very own Mr. Quackers, just like the one Belle used to have. It still quacks and everything and it isn't even leaking fuzz! Apparently Maddie doesn't, um, LOVE her toys the way Belle does.
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