|Which will it be? Demon?|
Which what? I whisper back. The presenter has been going on about answering the nutritional needs of the lactating feline and canine. Queens, to be using the appropriate terminology for the maternal cat. And of course . . . oh don't make me say it out loud. You know, a girl dog. A beech, or something. Great, now I'm blushing.
Would you rather be a Queen? he clarifies. Or a Beech?
Oh that. Good question, I say. The apex of personality tests, this query. Taking a moment to ponder the implications of each position of status . . . a queen can govern over man and country, but a beech, well ... done properly a beech could quite possibly rule the world.
It's all about choices, isn't it? And motivation. That too.
I think, I say. I would like to be a baroness. A lady both titled and a landowner. The wealth is implied, right?
Not only is this dialog a for real reenactment, but it continues as a long running conversation among co-workers. Such is the life in the pet food business. A true story, y'all.
I'm reminded of this conversation, not because there's a direct link to anything here, but rather it rose above the detritus of my muddled mind as I'm reviewing the photos for this week's post.
Ah, the magical and mystical holiday of Halloween, where you can let your creativity flag fly high. That one day where you can go about in confidence that it's socially acceptable to don the attire of your alter ego. Impress friends and family as a caped super hero or a favorite celebrity? Or go all creepy with a stumbling zombie or toothy vampire? Maybe you can breath new life into that age old debate of which is more awesome - Pirate or Ninja?
Oh hey, what about a princess or a demon?
Which would you rather be?
If nature takes it course as we would expect things to be, Miss Euka will miss the usual autumn festivities here at Sword House this year. I honestly don't have the energy to go into the drama of it all just now, but clicking on last week's Story Sunday post, Then this (ugh) happened, can fill you in on our mandatory change of plans for my favorite time of the year.
So after dragging the Halloween costumes from the basement storage, I was rather jazzed to see our little girl had several choices available to fit her small frame. Yet as fast I'm pulling the costumes from the box, I'm dismissing the options just as quickly. I want something to stand up to Euka's unique personality.
Jager's old costumes are summarily considered, then set aside. The skunk would likely fit body-wise, but no, it's not the right look for Euka. Same with the banana outfit. That one's a spit take to see Jager sporting, but again, not for our spunky girl.
Hmm, how 'bout the pretty, pretty princess dress? This was Inga's first Halloween costume and the lovely pup just rocked it. Ok sure, let's give this a try. I secured the gown's velco and cinched up the tie to the girly-girl pink and pointed hennin*. And ...
Gads, she looks miserable. Right? This image was brought to you by the courtesy of Iams biscuits. Nothing less would get that outfit on her.
Fine. I peeled the thing off of her before she could do it herself.
Ok, let's see what else. There's the orc riding Warg from Lord of the Rings. But Jager wants to wear that one all the time. There's festive belled collar for the court jester. That felted wonder was hand-made in a short-lived burst of fine motor skills one Saturday afternoon. And it too was set aside atop the pile of rejections.
And oh yeah. The demon costume.
Alrighty then. On with the cape and devil horns. I'm not surprised to find these all slip on the pup like a second skin.
No squirming. No complaining. And no dog cookies as a bribe.
She so owns this look.
Oh, but what do you think, dear reader? Do you prefer the princess for our delicate flower?
Or is this spirited personality totally rocking the demon look?
|I have a contract for you to sign. Trust me. Here, use my pen.|
*The pointy princess hat is a hennin. I know, I'm such a nerd. I really need to work out getting on a trivia game show, like Who Wants to be a Millionaire. Then I could stop this nonsense about dreaming about being a rich baroness and just live the life.