A Kid In A Sweet Shop

If you are ever " down in the dumps" I suggest you call around here. Pick Winnie up in the back seat of your car and drive, quicksticks, to the local pet superstore which is located just five miles away.
You know the sort of store I mean.
Spotless shelves with every feed, medication, plaything and grooming implement known to man , nose to nipple with bunnies in glass fronted enclosures, azure blue fish tanks and green smocked sales people smiling sweetly at you from behind the tills.
This is Winnie heaven.
I first found this odd fact out a year ago when she accompanied me into the store when we were picking another dog up from their in-house groomers.
Wide eyed with wonder she investigated every box, packet and snack carefully eyeing up anything that she thought different or interesting and practically wet herself when she turned a corner to see thirty feet of selected balls, squeaky toys and rubber " things" all neat and tidy in their containers.
Their selection of rubber chickens practically gave the old gal an orgasm on the spot and I had to put her on the lead again to prevent an over excited incident from occurring.
(I didn't have enough dosh on my to pay for any damages) but generally she behaved herself, sniffing the boxes, tins and packets with a smile on her big fat face.

As I recall we ambled on.
Carefully and over some time, the guinea pigs were watched and then the ratty things and gerbils in their boxes were given  the a serious once over, then the vet's receptionist had to be greeted as she yawned behind her desk.
To Winnie the store was a place of wonderment, to be savoured slowly like a good wine.
She didn't want rushing!
And so I let her march around, enjoying her enjoyment of such a simple activity.
Her happiness is incredibly infectious .
Remember that if you are ever down and you are in North Wales
Just call around and borrow a bulldog for an hour or so.

This morning in the garden with Mary