This morning I had a delicious breakfast before heading out to work for the last time this week. Before I left, I let our Chihuahua out to use the bathroom, (read: front yard). When I brought her back in she looked as pathetically sad to be put back into the kitchen as she always does. In a moment of genuine pity, I leaned over, gave her one last head scratch, and promised her that I'd play with her when I got home.
It's 11:11 and I still haven't played with her.
I know dogs don't understand English and Maggie certainly has no idea that I stood her up tonight, but the more I think about it the more I feel like a huge jerk. I'm going to stop writing now and see if I can't locate her favorite half-destroyed squeaking octopus. Then, it's time for sleep.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment