Saturday, November 11, 2017

Not my dog; or is it?

LADY WITH ONE OF HER SHORTER TRIMS

I was just thinking
 of the first time I took Lady, our late mutt, to the groomer.


Lady was a fuzzy girl with white-and-brown fur. I had taken her to Puttin on the Petz, and I was waiting for them to bring her out.

I was standing there wearing shorts, and they brought out this little white dog. While I looked around for Lady, this little dog sat down in front of me and waited. Finally, it licked my knee.

I looked down and suddenly realized that THAT WAS LADY. I wish I had a photo of her alone and us together. Without her fur, she looked like a different dog. (They'd cut her hair short, and she felt like velvet.)

Why was she all-white? That was the color of her undercoat.

I loved all versions of Lady, but that was maybe my favorite. But she needed her fur to protect her from weather, bugs or unfriendly dogs. So I never let them shear her again.


EMAIL: tgilli52@gmail.com  TWITTER: EDITORatWORK
Blog entries by Tom Gillispie
• Advice for be and would-be novelists

Anecdotes by Tom Gillispie


EDITOR@WORK blog entries

Blog entries from The Auto Racing Journal
(a book of great stories about the Intimidator)
(the book of great NASCAR stories)