White Dog had to be reminded to stay calm when our friends Nancy and Dawn walked in the house this morning. Bonnie the super cool pup with chrome mirrored doggles and the amazing Tri-paw, Wyatt, live with them and although they were not along, the White Dog Army was anxious to hear news of them.
Nancy came bearing the sweatshirts she had custom-made for Puff and Bella. Puff's in neon cheetah microfleece and black was tres chic and included extra long sleeves to keep our senior girl with the thinning furs warm. Still Another White Dog insisted on trying it on immediately and has pranced like a 1960's Ann Margret since donning it. It could not be more perfect or more appreciated. (Despite the struggle, you might remember, several weeks ago to take her measurements).
Bella was not quite so cooperative but before dinner Steve was finally able to capture our wild child and she agreed to try on HER sweatshirt. It was with resignation at first until she slipped into it (her's had velcro closures on the belly), but then she rubbed her face against the fleece and noticed the tiny letter "B" appliqued to the sleeve. She looked up at me and smiled.
Nancy's sewing skills were not the primary reason for White Dog's (and the rest of the White Dog Army's) enthusiastic greeting, however. In the bottom of the bag carried in were TWELVE dozen Sweet Potato Bliss Cookies. Handmade by Nancy from the best ingredients (like sweet potatoes she roasts in her oven), these treats make the White Ones swoon. They were prepared to dive in immediately and divvy up the 144 treats. Thank goodness Steve moved quickly before Eskie thought control took over and he put the treats safely in the kitchen where they will be frozen and doled out a few at a time.
As a peace offering, Dawn did point out that they had made a special batch of vegetable pretzel nubs (with no chicken) and brought a bag of samples to get the WDA's opinion. Not a single pup refused the sample...and not a single crumb remained 60 seconds later.
"Those were very tasty," White Dog summed up encouragingly. "Of course, not as good as Sweet Potato Bliss," she continued looking pointedly at Steve, "at least what I remember of their taste!" "After tonight's walk, Dear One," I told her. And every white head turned to look at the clock and calculate how long until...