A Thorn In My Side

The high grasses were special, they held little pods of grains that had long, tan coloured tendrils. While they were small in circumference, they were awfully good at sticking to long luscious fur. Well, that is just what Othello possessed, and the little devils seemed to love her. She pushed through the grass, growling and grumbling as she went. She would have to pull those buggers from her long, flowing tail. It was a pain in the ass to keep it clean, let alone pick apart her fluffy fur to pick out the small grains. The female let out a long huff of a breath, trying to find a rock or something to pull her out of the wheat.

When a rock finally came into view, she let out a happy woof and bounded over, more tendrils grasping onto her creamy fur. With one single bound she landed on the top of the flat stone, a sigh of relieve coming forth. Looking herself over, she found that many of the grains clinging to her fur. "Stupid freaking wheat..." She grumbled, using her strong tongue to rasp over the substance. She found that the grain also seemed to like her tongue, and no matter how many times she stuck her tongue in and out of her mouth, it stuck to her no matter what. Exasperated, she snapped her jaw as her tail pounded on the rounded surface of the stone.

Othello shook her head back and forth, but that only managed to get it clung onto her cheek. "Gah!" She growled, her paw stomping on the hard surface. This was going to take while to get all this damned things off of her wonderful pelt...