Shame Trundles

The funniest thing this past week has been Odd Trundles and the Fancy Harness. I decided taking forty-five minutes to walk him a half-block was not optimal, and went on a mad quest for a harness that would fit his barrel chest and tiny hips. Fortunately, I found something perfect–microfiber, padded points, adjustable for said barrel chest–at the pet store, brought it home…and he haaaaaates it.

He can no longer rage-sit to halt the whole walking process and demand coaxing, and it makes our walks–never fast, more of an amble, with a few rest breaks because he does have very short legs–just so much easier for everyone. An unexpected bonus is that he can’t wrap the leash around my legs anymore. I’m sure this is a component of his fury.

Anyway, here’s Odd Trundles, giving me the side-eye of shame. The green cloud is his Fancy Memory Foam Bed in my office, the one he is refusing to climb into because he is So Mad At Mum. You can just hear him grumbling “shame, shame on you, Mother,” in his stuffed-nose little voice.

Poor fellow. Life’s hard for a Trundles.

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