What to Wear to the Dog Park

I hear it took my gal ten years to buy a winter coat.  It's not like she hasn't lived in this frigid place her whole life. I think it was a convergence of events. The zipper on her shoulder-season polarfleece broke.  The temperature dropped forty degrees in one day.  She finally decided that being able to move freely is overrated. And she got a great deal at the outlet, which, as we have seen, is simply irresistible. At least her coat isn't monogrammed Mildred or Flo or Ashley.

Looking at Susan, I am feeling much better about my own dog coat.