Most pet owners spoil their furry family members as a matter of course.
Some pets are allowed to sleep on the bed (we hold our hand up to that), or have their personal blanket and cushion in their own chair or sofa.
Some are even spoilt by surrogate Mummies putting the underfloor heating on so that their toes don’t get cold.
But today, Maggie had waitress service.
We were introduced to latte coffee several years ago fancying something different and seeing two rather intriguing glasses being brought to the table next to ours.
We asked what they were, and told Latte Coffee. We’ve been hooked ever since, though mainly in the takeout department with a bacon roll as a side.
I’ve mentioned before that Maggie is rather partial to the froth, and will sit patiently waiting for her treat, getting her nose stuck right in and coming out looking like Santa with a brown beard and moustache.
Today is the first time since my op that I’ve walked the full length of the High Street, and we had a breather on the way back for coffee on our preferred bench by the traffic lights. Hubby treated me, and I sat outside with her ladyship.
As we began to people watch, one of the new ladies in the shop came out with a paper mug half filled with leftover frothy milk.
‘There’s no coffee or chocolate in it, ‘she said, ‘but rather than waste it, I thought she’d enjoy it.’
It was difficult to determine which bit of Maggie wasn’t wagging, as she tentatively licked the sides, then thrust her face fully into the cup, closing her eyes in nothing less than ecstasy.
And yes, she still had a bit of our froth afterwards!
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