Looking at Fluffy staring at herself in the wardrobe mirror, I can’t help feel a sense of loneliness and sadness in her. She brings to me her toy, the red mini heart-shaped stuffed toy, but I am lazy to play fetch with her. Her mummy is away and Fluffy doesn’t get to have her walk of the day. Whenever WW is around, Fluffy will be played with in WW’s somewhat mischievous yet sadist ways. For example, Fluffy standing with fore legs and hind legs on separate pieces of furniture, with a gap in the middle, leaving her immovable.
She is like the little neglected one, without a similar being to play or communicate with. What I can provide her are only the baobaos, the play-toy and occasional walk walks. And the walk walks are mostly when her fur is trimmed and short; don’t like washing her feet with long fur.
Wonder how Fluffy feels inside. Boo, what a dog’s life.
No comments:
Post a Comment