Brrr! It's been cold, and Alfie got chilly. Okay, I just think Alfie got chilly because, after all, he didn't show any signs like shivering or his teeth chattering. But with highs of 10 degrees Fahrenheit, I get cold, and, as my kids will tell you, if I am cold, I assume everyone is cold and will foist hats and coats on all and sundry. So . . .
Well, okay, maybe I just wanted Alfie to have a sweater. Especially after the husband told me it wouldn't work and that Alfie wouldn't wear it. Alfie not only wears it, he wags his tail when I get the sweater out of the basket.
I pulled this gorgeous pure wool Pendleton sweater from the attic where it has languished since I stole it from my mother ten or more years ago. My mother is a tiny woman; there is no way I was ever going to fit into that sweater. So I cut the sleeves off (don't tell my mother), slipped it over Alfie's head and front legs, and he was ready to go.
Alfie might have had doubts right at first, but once we tried it outside, he got it! Warmth and style -- what could be better?
Well, okay, maybe I just wanted Alfie to have a sweater. Especially after the husband told me it wouldn't work and that Alfie wouldn't wear it. Alfie not only wears it, he wags his tail when I get the sweater out of the basket.
Alfie might have had doubts right at first, but once we tried it outside, he got it! Warmth and style -- what could be better?
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| Alfie looking askance. What the heck am I wearing? |
