White Dog is not a coffee drinker. She jumps off of my arm when the White Dog Coffee Club convenes every morning. "I love whipped cream," she says, "but that coffee taste is so harsh. Yuck."
She is the only holdout as everyone lines up.
Trixie, on the other hand, would drink the entire mug if I didn't strong arm her snooter out of the elixir. She slurps and sloppily gulps in total bliss.
White Dog describes her thus: "Trix drags herself like an old lady in her bathrobe out with eyes half open and no energy until she plunges her mouth into the mug and inhales a long drink...then suddenly she smiles, dances, and the world is good!"