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“My little old dog: A heartbeat at my feet.” — Edith Wharton
(I’ll add Edith Wharton to my list of authors whom I need to get around to reading. Seems you can’t be a credible literary snob without having read her. Damn my sub-vocal reading skills!) — YUR
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Nice work, Stevie! Yer Uncle Rave is on his very own schedule though. If I really do get stumped I now know where to turn!
YUR
“My little old dog: A heartbeat at my feet.“
Edith Wharton must have better trained dogs than mine–in my case the quote would read: “My little old dogs–4 heartbeats crammed in my bed!”
LOL! I love both of my dogs, one of them almost to the point of absurdity. But, I draw the line on allowing them on the bed. Probably not for the reasons that most sane, non-pet owners might imagine though. I think it goes back to my childhood, when – before there were leash laws (or maybe the earliest seldomly enforced leash law years) – we had a humorous, but potentially dangerous, episode at our house. There was this BIG, lovable boob of a Labrador-mix, named Sarge, who belonged to one of our neighbors, but he just loved to visit us. We all used to let him into the house, and he knew his way around. One early morning, while my Mom was still in bed, one of us kids let him in. He went up to Mom’s room and jumped up on her four-post bed, and went to sleep. I guess he’d done it before, because Mom didn’t object. But then, all of a sudden you hear my Mom screaming at him. Sarge!!! He’d peed, right where he slept, at her feet! The potentially dangerous part was that Mom always slept with an electric blanket (she was a divorcee), and it was ON. She coulda been electrocuted! Needless to say, Sarge was not allowed on another bed after that. And, I don’t let dogs on my bed.
YUR