Those Boots Are Made for… Something

Ariat Quickdraw. A boot that scares me.

If there’s one thing I learned today it’s never to take a tender-hearted six-year-old to the animal shelter on a date, no matter how hard she begs.

 

There’s no way this is going to turn out pretty. In fact, it will likely turn out with sniffles, tears, and passionate declarations that the blue pit bull with crazy eyes licking its chops and waiting anxiously to eat your child as a snack is actually her long-lost canine forever friend.

 

Chances are if that animal were destined to be a forever friend it wouldn’t have been stranded on the side of a busy highway and collected by the dog pound. Just sayin’.

 

I know, I know. That was mean when the truth is my heart actually broke forty-six different times while we wandered the aisles of the shelter, particularly for the peach-colored situ, three Pekingese pooches and obsessively for the mangy St. Bernard.

 

My heart did not break for the sheltie using the corner of the fence as a ladder. I was innocently walking the aisle when I came eyeball to doggie private parts with a pooch clinging to the cage above my head like a spider monkey.

 

Why, oh why, can’t people listen to Bob Barker and just spay and neuter their pets?

 

A visit to the humane society was Uno’s special request as a date with Mommy. We had a good time, except when I had to gently remind her our current living circumstances include living in 830 square feet with six humans, two poodles and a Great Dane.

 

She returned the favor by telling me, “No,” when I tried to talk her into the St. Bernard.

 

Meanie.

 

The other thing I learned today is I am just not cool enough to be a cowgirl.

 

After our visit to the shelter we stopped by the boot store because I’ve been hankering for a pair of boots now that my feet have lost the look of bloated slugs.

 

I’ve only had hand-me-down boots before. After looking at the price tags, I now know why. Country Western music may be chock full of lyrics about empty pockets… but the western wear segment of the economy seems to be at a high price point.

 

Probably because of all those sparkles. I’ve never seen so many glittered horse shoes in one place!

 

I tried on a lot of boots. A lot. I learned my high arches make it really difficult to find a good fitting boot. I also learned you can easily get a head rush as well as fall on your backside while trying to pull a snug boot off of your foot.

 

Not that I’d ever fall on my behind in a shoe store in front of perfect strangers and my daughter who had located a pair of bedazzled pajamas. That would be embarrassing.

 

None of these activities are awesome for a woman three weeks removed from an abdominal surgery where another human being was tugged, undignified, from her body.

 

So today I had to recognize a few limitations.

 

I don’t have the personal swag to pull off leopard skin. Or a Guns ‘N Roses-theme. And I don’t really know why a boot needs to have the above-mentioned items. I don’t need that kind of sass in my life.

 

What happened to the plain vanilla boot for the boring gal? Could it cost $4.99 if the rhinestones were removed? Why do “country” clothes cost twice as much?

 

What is the Boot-Scootin’ Boogie?!

 

Ah. The mysteries of life.

 

Are you a boot-wearer? What are your favorite brands? Why are there so many rhinestones?

 

 

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One thought on “Those Boots Are Made for… Something

  • August 11, 2012 at 9:00 pm
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    I know, right? Ranch-style clothes are so cute, but SO expensive. I’ve decided that when I lose my 25 excess pounds (ha!), I’m going to splurge on an outfit from the ranch store (double ha!). Okay, maybe splurge on an outfit that originally came from the ranch store…and is now available at the thrift store. 🙂

    And boots…yeah. I love ’em. I want ’em. I’d have to sell one of my organs on the black market to afford ’em. I will say this though…my son has a pair of (plain leather!) Ariat boots that Daddy got him 2 years ago. Daddy was smart to get them a couple sizes too big, and my boy has worn them — literally — every day since then. (He’d wear them to bed if we let him.) They’re finally too small for him and I’m cringing at the thought of buying a new pair, but I definitely think we got our money’s worth. They are very well made and have survived a heap of little boy adventures.

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