this exposé on his proclivities, is the makeup brush. However, he has very specific taste, and for him everything pales in comparison to goat brushes.
He deftly breaks into closed cabinets behind closed doors to retrieve my old, but beloved, Guerlain goat hair brush. He then runs around the house triumphantly with it in his mouth as though doing a victory lap of sorts. While I was unwilling to sacrifice that particular goat to his demented cause, I was willing to give him the ungoatly brush shown in these pictures. This brush lacks that certain je ne sais quoi that his beloved goat hair brushes embody so perfectly, but in a pinch even a subpar brush will do.
Examining the tactile effects of the brush is of paramount importance, and sniffing and rubbing always precedes licking, biting and chewing.
"Oh, how I love thee."
"While this isn't my favorite goat, or a goat at all for that matter, I am growing quite fond of this brush."
"Now that feels delightful, and I can see why you rub brushes all over your face– even though it tortures me when you don't share them."
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