When I arrived I thought that Hatties super cute shop had been hit by a small tornado. There was material everywhere. Then I saw her something moving under pink chiffon in the middle of the room. Hattie appeared. Her left hand grasped a piece of fabric and in the right was scissors.
“Thank God, it's you, Foley, I have been swamped all morning. Why does everyone wait until the last minute to get their Valentine’s dress and expect me to create it magically?”. My hopes of getting a dress dissipated
.
“It's unconscionable,” I said feigning shock. “These girls should know better.”.
Hattie harrumphed. “It's not just the girls. Boys can't make up their mind who they want to take to the dance until the night before the soiree. Then everyone is in a big rush and guess who ends up holding the pink chiffon?” She put the fabric and scissors down.
I decided to carefully back out of the shop. I would have to settle on wearing something from my closet. “I have been praying for help all day,” Hattie said. “I am so happy you were the one to answer my call. I didn't know you knew how to sew. You are a dog of many talents. Let me get you a needle thread and scissors so you can get started.”
I complied. I had no idea how to sew but could never say no to a friend. She gave me a needle, thread, and a pair of sharp scissors then showed me a sketch of something that looked like it belonged in Carmen Miranda's wardrobe. She told me it was for Ladybug who would be coming within the hour.
Oh boy. I spent 10 minutes trying to thread the needle. It was an impossible task without opposable thumbs. Then I remembered. I had an opposable tongue. I put the needle in my mouth and threaded it within seconds. Then I measured Ladybug’s garment and began to sew frantically. When finished I prepared to announce that I had accomplished this difficult task proudly. That is when I realized I sewed my lips together.
I turned my back so Hattie wouldn't see me remove the stitches from my mouth. Then I went back to work on the dress. When I was done, I held it up. It looked perfect. Hattie stuck her head up from under her designs and saw it. “Foley,” she said, “that is magnificent. Hang it on the rack.” That is when I realized I had sewn my paw to the dress. I ripped it away causing no damage to the precious item or the dress.
Hattie gave me a list of other designs: a moomoo for Meika, a cocktail dress for Chelsea, a backless for Bella, a maxi for Minnie, and a wrap for Whitley. I channeled my inner Fosse and got them done.
Then Hattie opened the door, and we were overrun by party ready bitches. There was pushing and shoving as everyone tried to get to their design. Hattie and I were frantically ringing them up on the register. It was overflowing with kibble.
The last dress left the store, and we were exhausted. I asked Hattie if she was going to the dance and she smirked. “On Valentine's Day, I think not? Come with me.”
I followed her into the back room. There was light jazz playing; scarves were hung on the lampshades dimming the lights. There were two overstuffed chairs with a small table between them. Hattie invited me to sit on one, and she got in the other. She put two wine glasses on the table and generously filled each. “Good friend, good drinks, and comfortable chairs. This is the way a girl spends Valentine's Day,” Hattie said. We clinked glasses.
And she was right. It was the best Valentine's Day I ever had.\
