hair panic + forgetful stylist = 20 minutes with a Rascal

So. I was in a panic about my hair. Yes, I was going to grow it long before I had a cut or any color, but about 3 weeks into that plan I bailed on myself. I needed my stylist. I needed Eva.

The texting starts. I resort to stalking her on Facebook. But she’s a doll so the stalking didn’t have to go on very long before she called me and we agreed to meet at her house. This is where I totally forgot that her adorable child, Em, would be there, and I totally didn’t even know that she had an even more adorable (sorry, Em) dog. Rascal. Very appropriately named, I might add.

This could really be a long story, but I’ll cut it: Eva had to leave me at her house with only Rascal for about 15 minutes, but luckily, I’d brought my camera. I don’t usually carry it anymore, but I guess that little dog voice I hear in the back of my head was woofing that day and told me, “yeah, you’re going to need that.” And I did!

Rascal pretty much kept to “his” spot; the two cushions right by the front window where he can spy the mailman coming at least a few houses away, and where he can wait so impatiently when Eva leaves the house.

I took advantage of him.

Most of what I got are hip shots and “from above” shots; he has a thing for jumping, like, right into your face, so it was less painful (literally) to let him do his thing and wait and wring his little feets and wait for his people to come back.

Still, I love what I got. Rascal in his natural habitat: anxious, impatient, squirrelly, and very, very, Rascally.

I do need to listen to that little dog voice more often (if that’s at all possible, I mean, come on: you guys know me).