Oh weary day! Outside it's gray & damp. And inside? "What do you have to complain about," you say. "After all, you're in your very own loft, bought at premium price and belonging to you alone."
How I wish that were so. In fact, I'm again enduring the ministrations of that wretched woman, Kelly, owner, proprietor of Doggie Styles.
No disrespect to Kelly. I'd be happy to entertain her at Maman's et Papa's house, Cotswolds Cottage, any time. Kelly is a great dog lover; she cares deeply about her clients.
The awful truth, however, is that she scoops us up, places us on a table, tethers us, and brings out the implements of torture.
Today I share the horror (oh, the horror) with pals Mary Catherine, Charlsie and Zoe. Together we will shiver and cower, trying our best to slink into a cell or behind the couch, hoping against hope that we shall remain unnoticed. Unfortunately, Kelly is meticulous at work; unlikely that we will hide effectively.
Maman et Papa have promised to rescue me at 2:30. Let us hope against hope that they will be prompt.
