Broken Vows

I made a vow to Jeff a few years ago. I'm not talking about my vow to have and to hold or to love and cherish. I mean, yea, I made those vows too, but I'm talking about the vow to never dress our precious dog in clothing.

This rule came to be after my mother had gone to some sort of pole dancing event and returned with a feathery blue and white boa. In hopes of torturing Shea, we wrapped the boa around him and he sat happily looking like a cross dressing drag dog. When Jeff saw the evidence, he was not happy!

I can't blame him really. I have never quite understood dogs wearing clothes. So, since that day of goofing around with Shea, I have been sure to never do it again. I even immediately remove the bandanas they put on him after he gets a good bath. Jeff doesn't need to see that!

With explaining this, I have a confession. No, Shea has maintained his masculinity. He runs around outside in nothing more than a collar. But, this little Roxy girl we are dog-sitting for has caused me to break my vow.

When she arrived at our home, her owner had looking nice and fashionable in her tan sweater. I nearly broke out in laughter, but being as this was the first time I'd met either of them, I controlled myself. Again, I had to hold back laughter as I looked through Roxy's things and found two more shirts. There is no need for them. None at all.

My first morning with Roxy, a chilly mid-30's type of morning, I brought her outside to run around the block. By the time we got home, the poor little girl was shaking she was so cold. To save her from this pain, you better believe I put that darned sweater on her that night. And now, with temperatures dropping into the low 20's, I can't bare to take her outside without her sweater. I actually wish, for the sake of her tiny little paws, that she had booties to match.