Holly's motto is "everyone and everything looks better in blonde." She sheds. That statement alone barely encompasses the scope of how much she sheds 24/7/365. I use a grooming mitt on her, outside. On a typical day out here in NC the wind disperses tufts of blonde hair over several blocks, snagging in shrubs and piling in drifts against houses and car tires. Unsuspecting people walk or jog through airborne layers of blonde.
I figure it's only a matter of time before I'm linked to a major crime in Ottawa, or Singapore, or Perth because forensics found blonde dog hair. Interpol's version of Horatio Cane will be waiting on the back porch when I step out for a cigarette. Over his shoulder he'll explain how they followed the evidence. Or maybe it will be Down Under's Mac Taylor strongly suggesting I confess. With great delight I'll have to ask "you aren't from here, are you?"
Meanwhile Holly will be conducting an investigation of her own. Amused I'll watch my gorgeous blonde share her hair onto the officer. Hair that he will pass on to others via innocent causal contact.
Courtesy of the wind Holly's blonding the world. Years from now, long after this life, forensics will still be recovering strands of her blonde hair. At some point the scientists will get together to discuss the phenomena. How extraordinary this one dog has been everywhere, to the furthest corners of the planet. Birds on Galapagos are using blonde hair in construction of their nests. Holly hair will be found in core samples of ice from Antartica.
Right now someone in Mongola is trying to wipe a blonde hair from his or her eye. A diner at a Paris cafe is complaining to the waiter "there's hair in my food!"
And my beautiful Holly just gives me that look and says "everyone looks better in blonde."