I’m going to take this blog to meta territory and deconstruct a text message?
Um…no…thank goodness but I am going to gush a little. Poor Beatrice she must have been far from home when the storm hit because usually she has the sense to stay in her dog house when it rains. And trust me, if I were at his house I would be rubbing her down and loving on her. Poor dear, she does need a pedi-pedi and a blow out. I did ask if she smelled as pretty as she looked. I hope the sarcasm wasn’t lost on him.
How did he know I was having a wretched afternoon? The sort of afternoon that makes me want to walk away and sell the rest of the things, wish Ev luck pulling his tuition together. Because Mom was done. D-O-N-E. But then my phone chimed and there were Bea’s soft eyes looking up at him…look at the way she looks at him with all the love and joy imaginable. She doesn’t mind being wet and smelly because she had an adventure and someday maybe she’ll learn to talk and tell me about it. But for now I can imagine she was chasing after a coyote a mile or so from her warm house when the rain started to fall. The rain started with sprinkles, growing to a drizzle, crescendoing to a downpour but Beatrice, nose to ground, didn’t bother to stop. She kept running after the coyote not bothering with the rain.