To Feel Like Paris

I stuffed Tequila into a big purse and hauled her in the store yesterday. She would have been content to wait in the car, or somewhat happy to be left at home, but I wanted to feel like Paris Hilton. I've seen lots of photos where Paris hauls around her chihuahua in a jeweled pooch-pouched purse. I think her purebred is about half the size of my mixed pedigree, but I used a really big purse. In its former life, it  snuck popcorn and sodas into movie theatres. Big Guy helped me stuff Tequila into the purse. She didn't understand the concept, I'm not sure Big Guy did either. Once I had her squished inside, with her head poking out, Tequila traveled well. Except when she wanted out. At one point, I was carrying the dog in my arms with the empty dog purse dangling from one shoulder. I haven't seen photos of Paris caught in that situation. Tequila also shed more than I anticipated. Even with Tequila secured in the purse, loose blonde dog hairs covered the outside of the purse as well as my shirt. And I think I inhaled a few stray strands. Paris doesn't seem to have that problem. Although maybe being a blonde makes it easier to wear blonde dog hair. Tequila also got kind of heavy to cart around, but I knew better than to ask Big Guy to carry her. I have never seen photos of Paris breaking a sweat as she dog-carts. And while her dog weighs less than Tequila, all of the jewels adorning her dog bag probably evens out to about Tequila-weight. Clearly Paris knows what she's doing and has built up dog-hauling muscle. At the end of my adventure, I didn't feel much like Paris, and Tequila seemed a bit grumpy. Clearly I need to take a step back in my effort to channel Paris. Next time, I will leave Tequila in the car and cart the other tequila in my former movie bag. It's a start.