MH's Mother Mayhem

Nothing but Love for the Freakish Fur Ball

I am happily writing a newspaper children’s book review on “Wise Wiley”. It is the second in the series written by Animal Cruelty Officer Nancy Schilb about her animal adventures. She was kind enough to call me and say she could come to my home office (AKA the kitchen table, basement, spare room, my beloved purple chair…I’m pretty nomadic). It didn’t enter my mind that having her park the cruelty vehicle in my driveway could get a few tongues and tails for that matter, wagging.

My next door neighbor was giving me “Is there something you want to tell me face” later that afternoon. Eventually, my interview with Officer Nancy came up as well a relieved smile on the face of my worried next door resident. She said she could never imagine me mistreating my highly loved (nice way of saying spoiled rotten) pooch. The only thing Mags has to complain about is that she may be short on a few belly rubs and back massages during my deadline week. I’m sure she is also miffed I took away the peanut dog treats after a few gastric “issues”.

 

Maggie is my toddler with fur. This freakish little shedding fur ball (if Corgi fur were a commodity I would be living in Aruba right now) with two inch legs has taken up permanent residence in my heart. I cut her some slack when it comes to her attachment to my fuzzy slippers and “Oh happy day” reaction for any under garment left on the floor. In return, she doesn’t care if my pile of ironing hasn’t been touched in three days (fine WEEKS), that I fast forward past the abs workout on my exercise DVD or if my checkbook balanced. Having saliva on your fuzzy slippers and dog fuzz on your suit as you walk out the door is a pretty small price to pay for having a steady supply of unconditional love.