"What was that package that came in the mail today," asked Mr. Wild Dingo.
"Oh that was Juno's backpack. Her physical
torturer therapist, Madam Jenny recommended she carry her own water for hikes."
"Damn it Mrs. Wild Dingo, stop spending so much money on the dogs," scolded Mr. Wild Dingo.
Well, Internet, you know I'm much too clever to let Mr. Wild Dingo get the last word on how much to spend on the dogs. So I put the back pack on Juno and marched her into the foyer where he was standing.
And he squealed like a little girl.
"Ooooohhhhh! She's so cute in her backpack!" And: "Oh isn't she the cutest little working girl? She looks so pretty in her pack. Like a big strong girl!"
And with that, I didn't hear another word about the cost of the Ruffwear back pack (it wasn't cheap) nor the claim that I shouldn't have bought it. Instead, the next day he took them for their "Poppy-N-Dogs-Only" walk and insisted Juno wear her new pack.
"Yup, Pop is a push over for working girl needs."
"Now hurry up! I'm carrying all the weight here and I'm still faster than you slow pokes!"
Handling Mr. Wild Dingo is so much easier than handling the cracker and the criminal.
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