Out To Lunch
Chubby and I took each other out for lunch. My number one boy. He’s handsome, he’s loyal, he’s easy going, and he only has eyes for me. What’s not to love.
We walked through the gardens to Gertrude Street and ate on a table on the footpath at one of our, my favourite cafes. Chubby got a lovely plastic take away container of fresh water, which he slopped everywhere. Everybody he meets seems to love him.
“Hello handsome,” said one of the old ladies today. She reached down and patted his head. Chubby looked up at her with a smile.
People seem genuinely enchanted with him trotting along next to me off his lead. Every time we go for a walk somebody says “He’s a beautiful dog.”
And he is.
"Come on Chub, let's go."
We walked through the gardens to Gertrude Street and ate on a table on the footpath at one of our, my favourite cafes. Chubby got a lovely plastic take away container of fresh water, which he slopped everywhere. Everybody he meets seems to love him.
“Hello handsome,” said one of the old ladies today. She reached down and patted his head. Chubby looked up at her with a smile.
People seem genuinely enchanted with him trotting along next to me off his lead. Every time we go for a walk somebody says “He’s a beautiful dog.”
And he is.
"Come on Chub, let's go."
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