Being the childless mother of a small dog, I’m aware some people might think me a little tragic.
Just how so was brought home in a conversation with my brother which went like this.
Bro, I’ve ordered a dress for the niece. Can you collect it up for me as I can’t get across town this week.
“Sure,” obliging brother replies.
They should have put it aside, but just in case it’s a rockabilly number with pink flowers and pink petticoats size one.
He calmly listened as I gave him the name and address of the shop and told him he was the best.
I was just about to hang up when he said gently:
“So let me see if I have this right.
“You have ordered a pink and white rockabilly dress size one for the dog which I’m to pick up from Faster Pussycat in Gertrude St, Fitzroy?”
So help me I howled, laughed so hard I had to put the phone down.
No, you big ninny I sputtered through tears.
My niece – my husband’s brother’s daughter who has an adorable poppet called Lucie.
My niece … not yours.
“Well, I did wonder,” he said, “you’ve never really struck me as the type to dress dogs, but I thought maybe there’s something special on.”
Now, I’ve never regretted not having children.
But in that moment I was dazzled by a vision of pretty grey poodle in a rockabilly frock with pink flowers and puffy petticoats.
Surely, I said to the dog, you’re not going to the park in that!