After another day of dress-up and uncomfortable shoes, I decided to spend some quality time under the duvet. I grabbed my napping buddy, an overplumped weiner dog called Boxey, and rubbed her paunchy tummy. Thrilled with the affection, she rubbed my arm with her sharp dachshund talons, leaving three one-inch scratches on my shoulder. I tried to hide from her under the covers, but she nosed past the duvet, past the quilt, and located my nostrils like a snot-licking missile. Satisfied, she crawled to the head of the bed, farted, and dozed off.
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