me likey dat: thirty-five buck chuck

With their intricate handwoven patterns and wonderfully rich colors, Persian carpets have been a recent fascination for me. I used to think they were too busy, too fragile, too expensive to have in a house with doxies that might mistake them as chew toys or use them as wee wee pads. Now I can't believe our house has been almost twenty years without them.

For me, the trick in striking the right balance between doxie and rug lies with standards, or having a lack thereof. Fine examples of persian rugs are great for museums, but not for houses where tiny chupacabras under cover of night can chomp a hole in a rug just as easily as they can a hole in their toyfriends. Once I figured out that life is more interesting when it ain't perfect and started loving all the unique flaws that life has to offer, an ebay world of inexpensive, maybe mis-identified and definitely un-collector worthy cool rugs opened up to warm our home.

That's how Thirty-Five Buck Chuck ended up at our doorstep yesterday evening, delivered by Mr UPS amidst a chorus of barking that is Baxter the doorbell. The rug arrived tightly wrapped in a plastic bag and Baxter's nose started sniffing furiously as the smell of wool escaped with each cut of my scissors. By the time Chuck was rolled out for better viewing, our little kielbasa had claimed first rights to enjoyment and immediately started digging into the rug, deeply inhaling the smells of a faraway land, and rolling to acquire these newfound scents. I am always amazed at how wonderful Baxter looks on the things we choose for our home, and Baxter stretched out on Chuck, almost in recognition of that very notion.

Having gotten the full Baxter seal of approval, the rug will stay. I have no idea where we will put Chuck, but Baxter thinks it'll do nicely right where it is, in the middle of the floor, another fifteen square feet of space that he can call his own.