If I stand or move about the house around 2:00 p.m., Pierre leaps from his sofa-top perch, following and watching me like a hawk. He stands in the doorway between the kitchen and entry and waits to be invited to go: "C'mon, let's go get Son3," then he repeatedly leaps 4' into the air, until I get the door open. I should be so nimble afoot.
Yesterday I needed to visit the bank, a few blocks from Son3's place of employment, and when the tube shot back with my receipt, I noticed something in addition to pens and paper was in the tube. Flipping the lid and tipping, I exclaimed, "There's a dog biscuit in here!" as it fell into my hand.
"Ooh, dog biscuit. How clever. I thought for a moment I was crazy."
Pierre needs to do more banking.
Yesterday I needed to visit the bank, a few blocks from Son3's place of employment, and when the tube shot back with my receipt, I noticed something in addition to pens and paper was in the tube. Flipping the lid and tipping, I exclaimed, "There's a dog biscuit in here!" as it fell into my hand. "Ooh, dog biscuit. How clever. I thought for a moment I was crazy."
Pierre needs to do more banking.
| The works of the Lord are great, sought out of all them that have pleasure therein. Psalm 111:2 |
1 comment:
When Piper was still alive - the bank tellers always sent her a dog biscuit in the drive thru - but Piper, was a raw fed dog - so she wouldn't touch the 'treats'
I never told the tellers that - I just said "thank you"
with a smile - while I enjoyed watching Piper looking somewhat aghast at the offending morsel nestled at her paws. Piper was a lady of course and waited patiently for the evil biscuit to be remove without voicing a single complaint. "Her' christmas tree stands stoutly next to the one panted for George in our front yard. somehow it's comforting to see them, side by side.
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