Husband, something of a clothes horse, dressed stylishly for his presentation last Thursday--black jacket of Italian wool, monogrammed Land's End button-down, coordinating slacks. In fact, he looked so good that Wendy the Weimaraner decided to kiss him good-bye. Her paws hit his shoulder and her snout hit his lips. The kiss rapidly turned into a dance, then a stumble. As Wendy did a full body hug, Husband stepped into her water bowl.
Husband put Wendy outside and went upstairs to change. Black wool, water, and silvery Weimaraner hair are not a good mix.
Newly outfitted, he slid into the driver's seat of his Mercedes and backed out of the garage, totally unaware that it was raining and his sun roof was still open.
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