Wednesday, February 17, 2016


This sassy Mexican blanket entered my life last Christmas. 

A gift from my second-born.

Seductively soft, nappy textured cotton.
Bohemian bits of fringe.
Traditional bold black and white pattern.
Brilliant stripes of orange and pink.

I love every saucy inch. 

But until today, I have not been exactly sure where to put it. 

Turns out that my living room, with its current blend of neutral and natural decor, is the perfect backdrop for a textile with attitude. This room is begging for a bit of sass which my Mexican blanket is only too happy to provide. 

Welcome home, blanket. 

In the meantime, a certain someone slept nearby.

Don't let that handsome profile and distinguished silver muzzle lull you into complacency.

This is a cheeky Irishman on a mission.

Somehow, Ranger's internal clock was way off today. We had more than an hour to go before walk time. But that did not deter my headstrong dog.

As soon as Ranger realized my attention had shifted from the blanket to his very own self, he put his full persuasive efforts into overdrive.

He flopped down to a prone position, buried his head adorably in the rug, locked his eyes onto mine, and began to cry. 

When I say cry, what I mean is that what started first as a gentle whimper and then a subtle whine soon evolved into a wrenching scream that likely made the howler monkeys at the zoo cover their ears and wince in pain.

To be honest, Ranger's display of attitude was so outrageous that I couldn't help myself. I sat down next to him on the floor and just plain laughed myself silly.. 

He stopped his fuss to listen to me. 

Then I explained that walk time was still over an hour away.

He calmed down a bit more, but still he lasered those big brown eyes onto mine, shooting me with electric bolts of cleverness and clearly hoping to change my mind. 

And that's when I realized that my Mexican blanket was no longer the sassiest thing in the room.

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