Dahlings -
Forgive this uncharacteristically sentimental entry, which I promise will not descend into bathos (look it up). But yesterday
Bucky the Wonderdog, my
miniature pinscher, was nestling in my lap. He would have been purring if dogs purred. As it was, he made little happy noises, barely audible, burying his nose in my hand. I stroked his black silky ears and thought, what a comfort the little fellow is in this mad existence of mine. My nights spent in a whirl of parties, my days spent up to my elbows in fabrics and berating my assistant...it's all too much, my dears,
too much. I have a
very sensitive nervous system, which
too few appreciate.
I HEARD THAT SNICKER, YOU!
Excuse me. The new maid was bringing in my morning Hawaiian
kona coffee and croissants. Two days and the woman has already developed a
most unpleasant attitude. She even disabled the Hide-A-Cam in her room, and threatened me with legal action if I tried to have it repaired!
Hmmmph.
But back to Bucky. Animals have such purity about them. Whether they're loving you or trying to kill you, one always knows where one stands. I adore this little dog, and he adores me. His glossy black coat is soft, his little brown eyes are bright, and his tail wags all of the time. The barbaric practice of cutting off miniature
pinscher's tails after they are born...it should be outlawed! I mean, what if people went about cutting off parts of their
babies after they were born?
Oh, wait, some do. But not their
tails. Yes, I know babies don't have tails, but I'm only writing this on one cup of coffee.
Pour me another cup, you. Milk,
no sugar. Now go and set out my wisp of chiffon for the day. I'm in the mood for pink.
SCAT! (Haven't learned the thing's name yet, I'll have to ask my assistant when she comes in.)
I shall never
FORGIVE myself for giving Bucky to those
hideous peasants in the wilds of Connecticut! But Bucky has forgiven
me, that is what is important. Selfless love, that is what a dog offers. And the ability to look adorable in funny little outfits.
This is his custom-made raincoat by
Dogedesigns in Canada. You can find them at
http://www.dogedesigns.com/, they carry a marvelous range of things! Ever so much more
chic than
Petsmart. I admit, Bucky did bite me pretty hard when I was putting this raincoat on him, he has an aversion to clothes. Ironic, is it not? It is the one thing my assistant simply
refuses to do! Dressing Bucky! 'Twas ever thus, they try once and never again. So it is left to me, which is why all of his outfits have
Velcro. Otherwise my beautifully manicured hands would look like ground beef. The little dear has
such sharp teeth, and can move so
fast! I'd be quite proud of his prowess if it weren't for the pain, the blood, and the tetanus shots.
Lest I give a false impression of my dog, please realize that his is a loving nature, as many can attest. When I come home, he simply
explodes with joy, wriggling and licking my face. He jumps up and down, until I pick him up, whereupon he licks all the more. Bucky follows me from room to room, hopping up next to me whenever he can and nestling his little warm body against mine. He sulks when I am at the computer because there is nowhere for him to sit. He is just slightly too big to sit in my lap when I'm at the keyboard. As I write this, Bucky is rolled up in a cashmere throw on the Louis
Quinze sofa. There is a chill in the air this morning. I have considered having a chair made with a
doggie bed attached. And there is a great deal to be said for having something to love, so much.
Enough sentimentality, back to business. But one small peeve: I am
NOT Bucky's "Mommy". I did not whelp him. I can almost stand the term "companion animal," but don't push it.
Ciao for now,
Elisa and Bucky the
Wonderdog
