My name is Daisy & while LF is off gallivanting around Chicago (also known as taking the bar exam) I'm running DayCamp Daisy, wherein Elle Woods comes to play for a few days. This idea was hatched awhile ago when I sadly informed Ms. Fabulous that new attorney salaries do not include a budget section for "dinners at Alinea for friends recently taking the bar exam" so instead I offered the next best thing: a respite from potty breaks and 4 am snuffles while she tried to recite riparian water rights acronyms. (I have yet to come up with something to help the next two months also referred to as the Waiting Game when everyone you know (but most especially your parents and assorted family) ask you on a daily basis if you've gotten your "score" yet. No, you big jerks, I have to wait until October and so do you.)
I know, I know. I'll collect my Noble Prize for this later.
In the interim I have a house full of canine, what with my husband B (ha!), our beagle Rhett Butler, and of course, the super model Elle Woods. Our beagle weighs 22 pounds and Elle weighs a lot more (ladies don't disclose their weight) but think triple digits and yet, when they walk they insist on doing so at the EXACT. SAME. PACE. which is two parts hilarious one part frustrating because, yo, dogs, JUST WALK TO THE PARK. GIDDY UP, YA'LL.
Rhett Butler & Elle Woods are bff forever and if they had opposable thumbs they would most likely be knotting each other friendship bracelets. Elle has kindly shared her treats and RB make a point to drop Elle a few pieces of his delicious specialty kibble, which is awesome considering Elle eats a totally different kind of delicious specialty kibble and the end result is: quit trading you nincompoops. Your mama's spend good money on that kibble and it is for your precious little tummy that can't handle eating anything else in the whole wide world, because goodness knows we've tried. Ahem.
The first night I got them all leashed up, potty bags in my pocket, keys in the other and set off for a quick tour around the neighborhood to stretch legs and take care of business. It was going splendidly, (other than the idiot that seriously asked me if Rhett was Elle's tender for the race and then I laughed and it got awkward because he meant it and didn't think it was funny, not one bit) until a family stopped to pose for a photo between the two of them (HE IS SO SMALL! SHE IS SO BIG! AWWWW!) and they asked me what their names were.
"Oh! This guy is Rhett Butler, and the lady friend is Elle Woods!!" I responded brightly.
The husband glanced at the wife. "Um. Do you call them that....all the time?"
"Sure... um. Well. Yes. His name is Rhett Butler and her name is Elle Woods......." I said, much less enthusiastically and starting to trail off. I ran over their names in my head. Rhett Butler. Elle Woods. Elle Woods. Rhett Butler. I could see the family backing away from me, the wife rolling her eyes. (Whatever. They probably have a stick figure family on the back window of their mini-van) Oh no. I've become....that person. All I needed was my wrinkly English bulldog Winston Churchill to complete my WASP trifecta of preppy and...something......I skulked off, wishing that perhaps Elle's collar wasn't so splendidly pink or that Rhett's harness+leash+collar were not a fantastic trio of lobster & sailboat ribbon.
And after that I introduced them as Fido & Sassy Pants. It just seemed easier. I also instructed them to stop for a potty break around any mini-vans with stick figure family stickers on the back window. Just in case.
Daisy, Just Daisy