A little short and sweet story for your Wednesday morning.
“This is all your fault! Yes, it is, don’t even try to look at me like that. No, I’m not looking at you, so just turn those eyes somewhere more sympathetic.”
He turns those brown eyes around the room, focussing on the destruction. The pillow stuffing strewn around the room, the ripped seat cushions, the damaged architraves. His tongue lolls out and a big grin crosses his face showing his full set of gleaming white teeth, some of the pillow stuffing still caught between his incisors.
“Get a dog, they said. He will be great company, you’ll never know he’s there, he’s such a docile little thing. Yeah, right.”
She flopped down on her ruined lounge and he rested his head against her knee, his puppy dog eyes raised in silent question.
“I’m still mad at you,” she said, rubbing his velvety ears between her fingers., knowing that she would clean up the mess and wait to buy a new lounge when he was out of this destructive phase.