I go to the office once a week and that’s pretty much it for me as far as socializing goes these days. It’s truly impossible with the limited time and significant distance between me and, well, everyone I know. We live way out there, which is awesome, but it does limit my stop-at-the-bar-for-a-drink meetings and mid-day baby showers.
Because I’m home all day working and because two clingy cats and a very giant German Shepherd sleep in my bed (her paws in my face at times), I wonder, although I wash and spritz, do I smell like a dog?
I can’t smell them most of the time until I come home after being gone all day. “You should have turned on the smell-goods,” I say to Baylee.
“This really bothers me,” I said.
“It’s just how it is,” Sam said, “We have four dogs.”
If we lived in a more honest society and someone said to me, “Hey, you smell like a dog,” would that matter? Would I change anything? No.
I just love the days when we are all lounging around the living room in comfy clothes, playing with the animals and having a blast, an uninhibited blast, a moment when we don’t worry about getting dog hair on our black pants or if they smear “dirt” on our t-shirts. I also love the security of knowing that Gisele will hear trouble before I will and she will alert me at night right from the bed.
Animals are expensive, troublesome, and can be quite annoying, but it’s my lifestyle and I can’t imagine not living this type of one, one without expensive purses and manicured hands. A lifestyle with light-colored dog hair all over my Jeep, and one so full of love you can, well, smell it.
Teresa Forester Adams 