After all that quilt counting the other day I was going to whine that my Mommy never makes me any quilts. Then I remembered that I commandeered one that she made, shown in my mouth here when I was younger. I figure this is close enough.
Mom thought it would be cute to have me pose with her fabric pizza. What she didn’t understand is that anything I put in my mouth then automatically belongs to me. My spit, my thing. Get over it.
I can be slightly neurotic about my fabric things. I have three: the fabric pizza, a piece of knotted polyester fabric Daddy gave to me and Mommy nearly had a fit over, and my bedroll when I go to sleep over some place.
I like to carry them around the house and wag furiously. I am very gentle and very proud, holding my head up high and my tail straight out. I also like to massage the fabric with my mouth, like an old man with a cigar, but I know that’s not allowed. Mom says it’s gross and I think she’s afraid I will chew and choke. Still, sometimes I forget and Mom has to remind me. Sometimes I forget a lot and become a nutcase nuisance. Then Mom has to ask for whatever treasure I have in my mouth back. Next thing I know, I come in from outside and it’s gone. Poof. Disappeared. Don’t know how that happens.
Sometimes, as I have a fairly good nose, I will catch a whiff of one of my hidden fabric things. I am very good at sniffing out my fabric pizza, for example. I will pester Mom to give it to me. I stare intently at where I think it is hiding. (I am usually correct.) Then I back up quickly, perk my ears up, exhale loudly, and stare. I stare at her, I stare at where my fabric pizza is. Back and forth, snorting and dancing until she gives in.
If she were only slightly more intelligent I wouldn’t have to work so hard. But, like most humans, it’s not her fault. She’s in her own little world.
I have two amazing quilts that were made for me and Mom thinks are hers.
This quilt is of me and it was made by Julie Higgins from Indiana. Julie saw a picture of me somewhere on Mom’s website that Mom took when I was a puppy. I didn’t belong to her at the time; I lived next door. But I was worming my way into Mom’s heart. This is one of my favorite poses because my jowl is caught up on my big poky side teeth and if you look close you can see that I have two crooked lower teeth. (They match the two crooked top teeth that you can’t see, and all four of them are very cute.) Humans think I’m smiling, but my jowl is just stuck.
This quilt is actually named after me, Madison Il Cane which is Italian for Madison The Dog, or Madison T. Dog which is me. It was made by Donata Gervasi who is from Italy.
It was made from a picture too, but I don’t know how. Mom made me a tuxedo which I love to wear because then I have three tails.
Donata made me a pleated shirt just like my real one and sewed whiskers on me and everything. Well on the quilted me. I have my own on the real me.
Mom and I both love these quilts because they are of me and because there is nothing you can do that is more special than giving somebody a quilt, except maybe giving them a kidney or other internal organ, but you wouldn’t want to hang that on the wall. Mom gets to love the quilts close up; and I have to love them from afar. Not even allowed to sniff. Even so, how lucky can a dog be!
Thank you Julie and Donata for making my Mom feel to happy.
Madison T. Dog