Lovely Lady Jordan

Lovely Lady Jordan

No, you cannot seriously be thinking of having her here. God, really Lady? You have lost your mind entirely.

“I have a huge soft spot for seniors.” My Lady said to Granny’s owner. Why did they look at me when they said that? I may be older, but I am not that old. That girl has to be at least a hundred and twenty or something! Come on!

Jordan barely made it up the three steps into the house. Seriously, my Lady had to carry down the two steps into the back yard. She fell down every couple of feet. Didn’t stop panting for two days. It was enough to drive anyone mad. 

My Lady LOVED her though, which kind of ruffled my fur a bit. I avoided her completely. She smelled funny, her nonstop panting was irritating as heck, her constant falling down shook the house, and my lady spent way too much time talking to her and brushing her fur. I mean she really, really LOVED her. Jordan did have pretty fur though. Very long black hair that was kind of silky.

                 

“Thank you.” She said once when she caught me staring at it.

              

“For what?” I asked a little embarrassed that she caught me.

“My fur is pretty.” She huffed. “I used to be a show dog you know. Or could have been, if my owners ever thought to show me.”

I rolled my eyes. Great the granny was vain.

“Well, why didn’t they show you?” I had to ask

 

“Because," she said it like I was a little dumb.  "My lady decided to get married, have three children and add on two more dogs. There just wasn’t time.”

“Where is everyone now?”

“They all went on vacation.” She said it kind of sadly looking out the window. “I’m too old to go.”

Great. Could I be a bigger jerk? Poor chick.

“Sorry.” I said. “This place is better than any vacation, though.”  

“I like Ms. Julie. She’s kind of a big dork, but she’s so nice to me.”

“Is that why you insist on sleeping on the floor right next to her?” 

“Yes. I’m protecting her from the door, of course.”

“Yeah, that’s cool. Thanks.”

I guess I protected my Lady from the window? I hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest. I just know the ex-boyfriend moved out and I took his place on the bed. The super, ultra comfy bed I might add. The ex wasn't such a smart guy. Leaving a prime bed is right up there in dumboland like saying "no" to treats. What smart guy does that? Just sayin.