Christmas Night.
Mr. Hawthorne spends a few tender minutes
with Dogwood.
Immediately after Dixie has a bath,
she runs downstairs,
circles her pillow,
crushing the bones and twigs and leaves,
waits for me to put the hot towel on top of the pillow,
and crashes on it.
Then she waits for me to
cover her with more hot towels,
up to her ears,
just so her eyes and snout stick out.
And she stays that way until she's almost dry.
Then I blow dry her and back brush her.
Dixie loves it.
No comments:
Post a Comment