Why, yes, indeed, I *did* brush my whiskers and lashes with purposeful intent, arguably, though, not to a degree considered peacocking—for dogs of the prairie primp to pretty for personal points of poise and pleasancy only. My kin keep me grounded [literally, sometimes], which I appreciate because I cannot stand canting creatures. Humility is an integral virtue for surviving on the plain, which is why I tend to opt for the dried, sandy-coloured grass snacks even though they might cause a wamble every now and then; the pups need the Kermit-hued blades to ensure they up-grow strong and, also, that their coats develop a healthy lustre. It is certainly necessary for me to remain diligent in my pursuit of finding balance out here, where remaining wholesome among some holes is quite a challenging act! ; )


Ruby slippers? These are not them. *click* *clack* *click* *clack* *click* *clack* Oh, hullo, Cockaigne–well, yes, indeed, I think I *can* make this place home.

Leave footwear on feet? They are the exequatur that allows an indefinite stay? Neat!

Oh, but–wait. How does one attend to sweaty socks inside paired shoes? I see. Nice. They aerate themselves clean when from ‘pyoo’ to ‘phew’ does sublimate.

Wow! Worn soul on worn soles, but with no desire to in-trade either for they may never help carry an EGOT off stage, but, even better, they are ever linked in effort to find both hope and happiness in life’s next turned page. ; )

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