My mom doesn’t shop much. But she likes to visit Peridot, a store close to where we live in Lower Queen Anne. It’s pronounced “perry-dough.”They have very trendy clothes.I like Peridot because they always make me feel welcome. Sometimes the manager brings her dog, Scout, one of my favorite neighborhood dogs.
Cathy likes Peridot because the staff keeps her out of trouble. Here she’s wearing her winter hat, which they advised her to buy. Usually she grabs whatever’s on sale and covers her ears. She gets a lot of compliments on that hat.
I like that hat too. All that delicious wool. And those buttons! I could chew a whole morning on those buttons.
My mom said, “Gracie, if you eat this hat, you are going right back to the pound.”
Yeah, right. First of all, I wasn’t in a pound when Cathy adopted me. I was in a foster home. They won’t take me back.
Anyway, who’s kidding who? I know Cathy won’t send me anywhere. After all, Ophelia’s still here, after 5 weeks of force feeding, a big vet bill and a long sojourn in our laundry room. And she’s a useless ball of fur, not a hard-working dog like me.
But just in case, I haven’t so much as nibbled that hat. For one thing, Cathy is getting better at keeping woolly tasty tidbits out of my reach.
Not to worry. Cathy’s socks will tide me over to next winter.