Bogey and the Blonde
by Sue Ellenburg
(Easley, S. C.)
As I aged, I decided to take the advice of making my hair lighter. At the beauty shop I sensed something was wrong and the stylist said that maybe I could get used to it. It was orange!
I worked on it at home and managed to tone it down some. Then I had it cut so that there was less of it. Later I went to another salon and picked a very blonde sample. Against the stylist's recommendation, I had her use it. I was platium! I did not know what to do. After all, I could not call into work blonde.
Then came the doggie instance. I was visiting a friend at his apartment and we were standing outside. A lady brought her dog Bogey out on his leash. My friend cautioned me that Bogey did not readily take to strangers.
However, Bogey looked at me with is big brown eyes from the top of my blonde head to the bottom of my toes. He looked like a sailor home from the sea. Then he attached himself to my leg!
The owner tried to pull him away. My friend asked him why he was being a bad boy. He showed his teeth and went back to my leg. I said, "Bogey, I have a headache." He did not move. I said, "Bogey there is someone else." The owner pulled him with all her might back to the apartment doors. I would swear as he went back he was barking, "I want the blonde, I want the blonde."
I have since worked on my hair and have it a tame medium blonde.