I was in the kitchen doing the dishes last night when I heard the familiar sound of greyhound claws gripping the carpet in the act of running, as well as her collar rattling like she was shaking her head. I flicked the suds off my hands and made for the living room. In the minute it took me to get there, Barbie had stopped what she was doing, and was standing, tail swishing slowly, looking sweetly up at me.
I could not figure out why she had been running around like a maniac.
Then I looked at her bed. Two of my shoes were right there, from different pairs. I threw her her kittie fluffy, and she ran around with that instead.
She definately has a shoe fetish.
