Bagging It

the four-footed one has developed a thing for bags.  Handbags, messenger bags, backpacks and shopping bags.  None of these are safe from her curiosity.  Or her nose.  Or her paws.

I’m not sure when she first discovered her thing for bags, but I can attest to having her paws in my bag.  I caught her today with her nose, rooting around in one of my bags.  There is something there that she would find interesting, but still she does it.  It’s a little odd, but super embarrassing when she does it to a guest.

A little earlier today we had a dear friend of Beloved’s drop by for a visit.  The four-footed one wasn’t just interested in the person.  Oh no!  She  happily stuck her head in  the bag, and at some point she climbed right in and made herself at home.  Because who wouldn’t want a dog in their bag?

Thankfully this friend was understanding about our poorly behaved dog.  Which I guess is really a reflection on us.  Beloved also has a thing for bags.  It’s why he bought me a new backpack even though there is nothing wrong with my current one.  See?  The dog gets it from him.  Not that he sticks his nose, hands or body in visitors’ bags, but you get the idea.


Sniff, Sniff

A dreadful cloud of smelly gas had been released into the air.  Wafting, choking pockets of the substance seemed impossible to avoid.  A trip to a volcano?  Nope.  A walk through a store selling different perfumes!

I should make it clear that the workers weren’t involved in the release of these potentially noxious gasses.  Unfortunately or fortunately the store had young children in it.  Young children that were happily spraying the air and each other.

I’m not sure how the workers put up with all those competing smells, because I couldn’t last more than five choking minutes.  To be honest, I would sooner be visiting a volcano, but I had agreed to go shopping with a friend.  And I’m sure she didn’t count on perfume wielding children when she invited me.

I’m sure every job has its pitfalls as well as its high points.  For some people the competing smells might be a high point and for others it might be a low point.  For me it would be on of the levels of Hell.  Perhaps nice smelling Hell, but Hell all the same.

Now switch that store to a coffee-house with all those lovely coffee smells competing and mingling no the air?  Heaven to be sure!  Because it’s all a matter of preference and individuality.  And a rose by any other name would surely smell the same!