Saturday, October 25, 2008


The dog is not broken. She is, in fact, suffering no ill effects from her mishap last night. She was subdued, even scared, for the rest of the evening. She curled up on our laps and was not at all a pest as we ate. Around 11, she stood up from my lap and started kissing me on my face. (Yes, I let my dog lick me. On the face. Deal with it.) She was letting me know that all was forgiven, though she still wasn't exactly a happy dog.

This morning, though, she was back to her usual happy self. Don't ever tell me dogs don't smile. Last night, she was most definitely not smiling. One look at her face and you could see she was sad. Today, she is back to smiling.

I like happy, smiling dog much better than sad, scared dog.

Maybe she's not entirely over her fright, though. She hasn't wanted to play with the orange squeaky ball today.

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