Big Dog, Big Feet: It's A Match

I keep my paws close to me. Shane spreads his, just like a guy.

If you hold my paw next to Shane’s paw, you’ll see that his are on the dainty side; and if I had been a girl in ancient China, the beauty police would have bound my feet. That’s how big they are.

But, I like my big feet for they carry the rest of me with great assurance and sturdiness. In other words, we match. Sometimes I just sit there and cross them so I can look down and admire their round contours, the thick nails that I try to bite, but to no avail. Other times, I just lick them earnestly.

Shane doesn’t admire his paws. Oh, I’m sure he appreciates having them, but, for him, paws are just another part of his anatomy. For such a handsome dog, he’s surprisingly non-narcissistic. Me? It’s not like I’m one of those oh-look-at-me girls in high boots and tight jeans. I simply appreciate the niceties of having four legs, fluffy fur, and big paws.

I like being me. I like being.

Best wishes, Juno