Back in the day when Brian and I were mere high school sweethearts, I gave him a stuffed puppy dog as a gift. We've had the thing for years before just recently letting Lilly play with it. For the past week, she's been carrying "Baby" around the house. She looks for it every morning. She knows when we hide it on top of my dresser.
We returned home from a shopping errand tonight to find a poor, poor headless puppy. As they say, all good things must come to an end. (As I type this, Lilly is curled up on the floor next to me in a sad little ball. Methinks she misses her friend.)
If you look at the expanded image of Brian kicking back with the pups after our July 4th camping trip, you'll notice that Lilly is curled up with pre-beheaded Baby.
We returned home from a shopping errand tonight to find a poor, poor headless puppy. As they say, all good things must come to an end. (As I type this, Lilly is curled up on the floor next to me in a sad little ball. Methinks she misses her friend.)
If you look at the expanded image of Brian kicking back with the pups after our July 4th camping trip, you'll notice that Lilly is curled up with pre-beheaded Baby.
1 comment:
Duncan has a baby, a stuffed squirrel, that he has worked at diligently. It now has no nose, and after sewing up its face several times it Joan Rivers after her last bout of plastic surgery. I can't bring myself to get rid of it because he loves it so much. Now when I take it out of the chest and let him have it for a day or two I always have to say, "Be good to the baby, Duncan," and he'll stop and lick it gently, until the stitches start coming loose and I have to sew it up again.
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