“What color leash do you want?” the salesman asked as he pointed to the spectrum of options arrayed on the wall.
Izzy was wearing a pink sweater when we adopted her. And a pale pink collar. And moments before we had chosen a pink harness for when we take her walking. So I was having visions of pink and sought briefly to fight them off…
“Not pink,” I said.
Then without missing a beat, as if some other voice was speaking thru my mouth, I pointed to a pink leash on the wall and said, “That one with hearts is ok.”
I mean, after all, with a pink sweater there really is no alternative, right?
