Am I trapped in a Linda Bailey picture book? After icing the yule log, I gave Mortie a bath in preparation for his party. That's right, HIS party. We were invited to Pawsway Appreciation Night.
As part of my other job, features' editor for Today's Parent Toronto, he had joined me for the opening of the Pet Discovery Centre at the Harbourfront. He generated more press interest than any of my novels.
We were on television
together and in the newspapers.
Three years later, he had to look his best for a return visit. After his towel-off, he hid under the bed and refused to come out. I used my stern voice. "You have to look good. They'll probably take your picture again," I explained as I brushed him.
Talk to the paw. Mortie was not happy with me. After a tedious drive downtown, though Mortie forgave me. And yes the press trained their cameras on him again.
He loved meeting the other dogs. His tail hardly stopped wagging. Except for some reason he took a dislike to Sasha the Malmut. Maybe he was jealous of his Santa coat. Although there were plenty of water dishes around and lots of human treats, Pawsway forgot the dog snacks.
I felt a bit guilty sneaking Mortie bits of my grilled cheese and pear sandwich. As for the "So you think you can dance competition" I think Mortie could do just as well as the dog dancers. He has just as good a sense of rhythm and responds equally well to the rattle of the treat bag.
Maybe next year.
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