I’m not sure what it is, but at least it looks happy.
Although there’s a small chance that whatever it is, it eats coins, and I’m not sure that a coinophagous life form is going to do well in the new economy. Quarters are, like, expensive. You can’t just go around feeding random sock-dogs your pocket change anymore, it’s not 1987. The days of wine and nickles are over. And yet, we have the optimism, the mad belief that there’s a nickle out there with a dog’s name on it. Presumably in very small print.
Now, what weird medieval bestiary coughed up the foot-dog? This weird, monopod canine, leaping and jingling around–I’m right, right? This thing holds coins? Because it’s too cute for cigarette butts. Bottle caps, maybe? For preschool teachers to pop back a cold one after work? That makes a weird sense, but the sock connection seems a bit of a stretch.
Poor, limp, pre-stretched sock. The pig weeps beside you, and a choir of angels sings your distended seams to their final resting place.
No, don’t hide. Be proud of what you are, though we are not, at this time, sure of what that is, except “housewares,” a bit of a catch-all. If housewares includes distended small-parts-eating dogsocks, clearly, anything goes in Housewares.
Brought to you by the letters D, and S, and possibly B or P, I don’t know, the jury’s out.
Savers on North Loop and Burnet, Austin