March 7, 2007
The guy who delivers the Chinese food asks me where my dog is. Usually, she comes running to the door whenever anyone knocks on it or comes through it, but she’s asleep when dinner arrives. The deliveryman calls out, “Doggie! Where are you?” I go and get her and he pets her, saying how lovely she is. She enjoys the attention, as she always does, and I realize that I’m so used to how beautiful and sweet she is that I don’t notice anymore, or at least, not all the time. This must happen to men who marry supermodels, too.