Checkbook Faltering, She Thinks Over a Wood-Varnishing Bargain
Iris gathered her wits. “It’s not my favorite dogsled, but it’ll work. Naturally, a Dalmatian harness to attach it to…” Iris had a gift for non-important patter. That’s why the Dalmatian sleeps downstairs. With Iris supplying reruns for so-called entertainment — if you want to call it that — hospitality or something overtook her, wrung guilt out of the bitch.
She drove her dogs then, boldly, off-road, back home. She varnished, intentionally polishing her rundown dogsled. By the way, this broad is a big sleepwalker. Overtly, she portrayed the sled in Citizen Kane for Dummies, a book on the toiling theatre insiders who sunblocked Welles the director and picked up his ties and suits from where he’d dropped them off.
The Dalmatian shook a tennis ball about, so Iris pocketed the thing and instilled restraint into the sleddog (knowing he’d clench empathy launched out of thin air). He depicted a tween — a vampire-loving canine, not to mention a sleddog. A perennial follower, Iris ran actively to his door. The Dalmation turned up his earphones. The sled trip planned by the two of them hung in the balance.
“Back up, Iris! My bedroom door is shut and locked,” the Dalmatian proposed. Iris kicked the door. “Just to think,” she coughed, “If I’d known how cheap dog-boarding or giving-away could get…” Bantering, the dog king swung open the entranceway. Had Iris determined his temperament, she’d have bailed out last month. But apparently stuck in her eternal need to Iditarod dogs, she crumpled.