Last month Jennifer Aniston’s 15-year old Welsh Corgi-terrier mix, Norman, died of old age.
“He’s just a person in a dog suit,” she once said.
I get that.
This week the tabloids were full of the news that Jennifer got her first tattoo. What did it say? Was it new boyfriend Justin Theroux’s name? Or some mid-life crisis bit of philosophy in Chinese characters?
None of the above. The ink on her right foot simply says “Norman.”
Now, I’ve never even remotely considered getting a tat. I’m notoriously commitment — and needle — phobic, and permanent body art requires both.
But a tattoo dedicated to my dog Rory? Perhaps his name in the simple sans serif font that I favor? Or a tiny artist rendering of his amazingly expressive face?
Oh yes, I could commit to that.