There is no greater fraud,
Than a promise not kept.
Gaelic Proverb
Regarding Carson's post on the convalescence of her dog, Scout, (may she recover speedily), we were just talking about the lengths to which people will go to make their pets happy and comfortable.
There are, of course, limits. If you allow a 50kg dog on your bed, chances are you're never going to get him off, and will be sleeping in a hairball for the rest of your life.
As the 12 YO recently discovered.
I also dislike pets on the couch. But recently, in a fit of empathy, I promised joybucket that I would grant my dog permanent couch access, in homage to her dog, Kurgan, who had departed for that Big Leash-Free Zone In The Sky.
Angel now occupies our (very limited) couch space in a decidedly proprietary manner. And displays a profound and abiding comprehension of said pledge, looking both self-righteous and hurt if I so much as think about telling him to shift that big, white, hairy bum of his so that someone else can sit, too.
Not bad for a Big Stupid.
And I still can't believe that I let this happen.
Lucky, lucky for Angel, promises are held sacred at Chez Poppalina, and so couch access will, albeit grudgingly, continue.
But must he be so fucking smug?
