Have you ever cried over a pair of shoes? How about a pair of boots?? Well, I have. Actually, I freaking am - right now.
I have this pair of cowboy boots that my mom gave me. They were hers and she wore them on her family's farm in Last Chance Colorado when she was just a wee lass. When I was 20 something, she gave 'em to me. They were ratty, broken down, buckskin colored, absolutely gorgeous boots. I wore them everywhere. I wore them even after Ozzy ate a chunck out of the top of them. I wore them until the nails came through the souls.
Last month, I finally took them to a boot guy to have them fixed. It took him over two weeks to have them done, which was fine because I wasn't planning on wearing them again until the first Saturday in September to the Motley Crue concert. He resouled them, rehealed them, and special ordered a piece of matching leather to patch the piece missing from Ozzy. He even patched the other boot so they would match.
It cost me $41 to get them fixed. I thought that was such a deal. Earl said I could have bought a new pair for that, but I didnt want a new pair. These boots mean more to me than anything I own because they were my moms, and they are not faux cowboy boots, they're the real deal.
I got to wear them once, this weekend.
He hasn't chewed anything in years. But tonight he choses to chew these leather smell'n boots. He's got marrow bones, rawhides, and toys. But tonight he choses to chew these leather smell'n boots. Just a couple big fat holes right in the back.
This is the face of a very sad boot chewer after a very teary eyed scolding.
And this is the face of a very sorry boot chewer. Yes, I've already forgiven him. I'm mean, look at him. Doesn't mean I'm still not fucking pissed. But. Look at him.
I hope that guy has more of that special ordered leather cause these boots are going back Tuesday when he reopens. I just hope he get this fixed by September.
Sigh. I am sad. I. Am. So. Sad.
I have this pair of cowboy boots that my mom gave me. They were hers and she wore them on her family's farm in Last Chance Colorado when she was just a wee lass. When I was 20 something, she gave 'em to me. They were ratty, broken down, buckskin colored, absolutely gorgeous boots. I wore them everywhere. I wore them even after Ozzy ate a chunck out of the top of them. I wore them until the nails came through the souls.
Last month, I finally took them to a boot guy to have them fixed. It took him over two weeks to have them done, which was fine because I wasn't planning on wearing them again until the first Saturday in September to the Motley Crue concert. He resouled them, rehealed them, and special ordered a piece of matching leather to patch the piece missing from Ozzy. He even patched the other boot so they would match.
It cost me $41 to get them fixed. I thought that was such a deal. Earl said I could have bought a new pair for that, but I didnt want a new pair. These boots mean more to me than anything I own because they were my moms, and they are not faux cowboy boots, they're the real deal.
I got to wear them once, this weekend.
15 minutes ago, I heared Ozzy chewing something. I'll give you one guess what it was.
He hasn't chewed anything in years. But tonight he choses to chew these leather smell'n boots. He's got marrow bones, rawhides, and toys. But tonight he choses to chew these leather smell'n boots. Just a couple big fat holes right in the back.
This is the face of a very sad boot chewer after a very teary eyed scolding.
And this is the face of a very sorry boot chewer. Yes, I've already forgiven him. I'm mean, look at him. Doesn't mean I'm still not fucking pissed. But. Look at him.
Sigh. I am sad. I. Am. So. Sad.
posted by Sp00kalot at 10:09 PM
1 Comments:
Like the masthead. Sorry about the boots. Hope they can be fixed.
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