She's my furry secretary, squirrel-spotting walking companion and fuzzy-butted friend. It's not too large an exaggeration to admit that I think the sun shines out of her.
But this ...... ?
Oh Milly, what have you done?
I know that you know you're in trouble because you're not making eye contact with me.
It's okay, you're a good dog and you didn't mean it. So don't get all huffy and offended now....
And remember, dear dogadoo, just because I showed this latest brocante purchase to Love Chunks and he said, "It looks like a golden turd," doesn't mean that is one.
No, it's a golden croissant!
Okay, brass. Filched from an old boulangerie wall sign and so utterly pointless I just. had. to. have. it. Who doesn't need a gold-coloured food stuff?
So my awesome little orange dog is not to blame after all.
Or for this:
When you've spent the best part of a week doing overdue tax returns and keep getting the 'Please call us between our business hours of 8am and 6pm' voice machines the banks switch on several different time zones away, you have to get your jollies somehow.
Thank goodness I have some soft ears to scratch, a tummy to rub and some gentle snores occurring near my feet. Love you, Milly.