Ellie came back from the dog show last week with some kind of ribbon, and a bag of snacks.
“I won Best Bitch,” she said.
I tactfully refrained from comment.
“I’m a show dog now. I’ve got an agent,” she informed me.
Right. She means the house woman, of course. They go out training every day, and walk for miles. It’s cold outside, and snow still on the ground, but Ellie loves it. Hounds – go figure.
“I’ll probably be getting calls from Hollywood before too long.” she woofed. “You want to see my selfies?”
I suppose I’ll we’ll never hear the end of this . . . Whatever.