It was, I suddenly remembered, Christmas morning. I needed to at least show up. I found a relatively clean pair of jeans on the floor, and a nice-look...ng flannel shirt hanging in my closet that appeared to have never been worn. I pocketed the pile of stuff on my bedside table — a wallet, a pocketknife, a couple of quarters, and a set of keys — and with a last look in the mirror (so far, this body was the only good thing about this whole nightmare) I headed downstairs.I paused at the doorway to. "Seriously. Start with your face. What do you see?" he urged her.This put a little damper on her excitement, because she was not happy with her face. "Well, it sure isn't any movie star's face," she said rather glumly."Ever smile at yourself in the mirror," he demanded."Uh, I don't think so. I'm usually not that happy with what I see." Well, try it some time. You won't need any other lights on in the room." That produced a little giggle from her. "Seriously, Babe, you've got a beautiful face,. The dog looks up, and the first thing it sees is our target, Anya Petrova, one of the emerging supermodels in the world, as she steps to the curb, looking for a taxi. Goddamn optimist."Oh, fuck," I quietly mouthed to myself, putting my hand over my eyes. I peeked through my fingers.The dog looks at Anya, and then reacting to the arrow, it comes after her. Anya hasn't even seen the damn dog yet. It gets within a couple of steps, and jumps towards her.The fucking, oversexed dog is grabbing her. Which resulted in returning back to the barn as Dad didn’t trust me enough yet to clear them myself yet. Once I had all the paddocks cut back to a low level, we guessed it would only take one cut a week in the summer to keep them in control, a lot less once the growth rate died back.That had only taken a couple of days so I still had a load of the holidays left. Mom didn’t want me in the main part of the house, she said I just got under her feet as she tried to get everything arranged as she.
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