I Do Hope That Doggie's For Sale

It's happening again. I am dog-sitting in July. This time he's much, much bigger (which means he can't escape from his lead and run across Coronation Drive at peak hour giving me both a heart attack and burst of creativity - how to blamelessly explain a dog's death - at once). Dog-sitting means waking up at 6am for walks, negotiating with neighbours and the council (hopefully not this time), and being home at a reasonable hour to feed an extra mouth. So much responsibility!




Pic The Sartorialist


I want Penelope's tutu.