A boy approached our front door this evening and slid a postcard underneath the door, which sent Abe into a barking frenzy. Greg grabbed the card from the floor and glanced out the door; the boy’s mother was with him. The postcard advertised professional photography. All the shots on the card were of children dolled up in dresses or Texas Longhorns T-shirts.
As we finished up dinner this evening, Greg glanced at the front door. “We got another one of those cards!” he said, sounding a little annoyed.
“They must have forgotten that they left a card here before,” I said.
“Wait, this is for pets,” Greg said. “They heard Abe barking and they came back with a card advertising pet pictures.”
That is some effective advertising. The card has a picture of an Australian Shepard surrounded by his toys, which are a bunch of cute, little stuffed animals. The photographer says you should bring your pet’s toys to the photo shoot. So I guess Abe’s picture would be taken with a slimy nub of rawhide bone and a fleece blanket that has more holes than a block of swiss. And a really grumpy, ticked off cat.