Dogs - Clothes - Fashion - New York Times
Some dogs are rough and tumble. They launch themselves recklessly into icy streams. They crash through briars and thorns in pursuit of rabbits. They roll around on dead squirrels.
Sticky is not one of those dogs. (Neither is Shai)
Sticky is finicky. Sticky is delicate. She even picks at food. If a cat were a dog, she would be Sticky. (ditto!)
I never had a small dog before. When I first saw Sticky as a puppy, she had enormous Flying Nun ears and pranced around the house like a tiny mechanical horse. Perhaps this distracted me from considering the full implications of living with a papillon, the same breed of lapdog that once lounged around the French court.
Sticky was born to eat cake, not to walk outside in winter alongside Otto, our big Labrador retriever. With the rainy season under way here in Northern California, he capers hysterically in puddles while she skulks under awnings with a droopy dripping tail. Even when the weather is dry she shivers theatrically.
This is why I decided Sticky needed a coat. Or a sweater. Or something.
Yes, Shai has a selection of outerwear. I got her a new flannel sweater that she can step into and it velcros along the spine. Easy to put on and I just ignore the fact that it's plaid. She has a yellow raincoat, with hood, that she adores. She won't go out into the rain without it. Talk about being a princess! The other day during the stormy weather she slept in until 10 til three, then stood at the front door sneezing (her way of showing disgust) and looking at me as if I was personally responsible for the lack of sunlight. I sometimes wonder exactly who is in charge.
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