The Bouncy Blond Bombshell And I

Don’t know where my mind is you know Mom. Walked in to the grocery store with the intention of buying Irish her food, which I did, and then walked out of the store without it. Got half way through the parking lot before I realized my arms were rather light in the feed the dog department. Had to march back in and retrieve. Rolling of eyes, and TK at the cash laughing said, “thought you’d be back”.

Irish -- Disapproving LookAnd the blond bombshell received a short waltz around the block, so she’s happy. YIPPY. Goals accomplished.

Not been the best of weeks, but really can’t complain though, truth be told. Snowed this week EVERY day. It was annoying. Love standing out waiting for the damn bus, bitter wind stroking my face with blasts of snow. Then one day this week, can’t even recall which day now, I finally lost that rotten lower front tooth that’s been threatening to go AWOL. Have at ‘er already I’ve been thinking, and it did. Finally.

That dazzling smile, that gap toothed little girl, is no more. {And btw Mom, thanx for the shitty teeth}.

Irish lays there on my bed, patiently awaiting my return. She doesn’t care about my smile, or my smelly feet, my pimples, or the wrinkles that are starting to fan out around my eyes, the grey that is appearing at my temples concerns her not one little bit.

And she loves the snow. There she sits, hiding in the shrubbery, watching the world of The Village go by barking at the errant dog that happens by, unawares these four corners are hers.

IrishBefore the walk, before the grocery store, we were laying down together on the bed. Her with her feet up against me, as I tickled her belly with my nails, her head resting on my other arm.

When C was down last week I asked her if she thought Irish would ever be one of those lie about dogs. You know, the ones that groan and such when a walk is mentioned.

C’s like ah, no.

Me neither. Rats.

Man that dog has some almighty get up and go. With leaps and head wiggles and making a right fool of her self (which is her way of saying she wants a biscuit).

So I stalked her around the apartment instead for a bit, before I gave in, just like she does me.

Irish Licking ChopsSure, we do get in each others way. And we indeed have a combative relationship on occasion, as Crossroads Man pointed out this week. She can be rather strong-willed. But, I welcome her goofy council, and think she is rather special.


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