life done write

Tiny Moon just got cuter.

Before:

After:

I’m a little hard on Luna. I expect no barking. I expect perfect attention and listening. I expect heeling and sitting and staying and stopping and going. And did I mention no barking?

Mostly she’s good at this. But occasionally she barks–and I shush her. Occasionally she pulls the leash and I get annoyed.

I didn’t realize, though, how very well trained she really is for a one-year-old. Until I pet sat for a friend.

I’d like to preface this with a simple fact: my friend’s dog is not a bad dog. This wasn’t a Marley & Me situation–it was just shocking for me because the dog I live with is Luna, who wouldn’t dare howl out my window until I put her in the kennel or pull my arm out of its socket when we’re walking in the park or rip up my garbage bag and leave crap all over my floor or eat goose poop out of the yard and try to kiss my face.

Luna, my dears, doesn’t do those things.

Part of this is because I’m lucky: Luna never was one for the garbage (even if I put the tastiest morsels ever in it); she never really had an interest in following me into the kitchen and standing under my feet; she is not inclined toward barking.

But part of this is because I have high expectations and spend a lot of time walking, training and rewarding. She had to learn to heel (and it’s still a bit of a work in progress, though she’s leaps and bounds beyond our petsitting charge). She was inclined to eat goose poop at first, and we had to nip that one in the bud. She did want to eat my food when I left it sitting on the floor.

But she’s a good listener and she is smart and she’s happy, because for everything I deny her, I offer something else. You can’t pull the leash, but we can go for a long walk in the park and sometimes in the yard I’ll let you off the leash and we’ll play fetch. You can’t chew my pajamas, but you can chew this tasty bone. You can’t eat my salsa, which I just left on the floor, but you can have a puppy treat.

Now I’m a proud mama. Cause Holy Crap, I just realized that Luna is the best trained one-year-old I’ve ever met. Ever. Including all the dogs we grew up with and every dog I’ve met since then.

Good job, babypants.

Deep breath. Big smile. I am in Chicago for the night!

This, of course, means antics with Roommate #1 and probably with Friends of Roommate #1 and Boyfriend of Roommate #1 (whom I will rename for blog purposes once I have met him).

For now, until Roommate #1 comes home from work, I am in a coffee shop near her house, taking a breather. I was responding to work emails, but since A) things seem to fall apart when I’m not there, B) this makes me feel frustrated and sad and C) I can’t get in touch with anyone I need, I have given up on said emails. And now I’ll just wait for my CD to call me back and save the day. I won’t go any further into my frustration except to say: unreliable people suck.

Enough of that though. I failed at good attitude-ness last week, but perhaps I don’t have to fail this week, right? So, onto fantastic and fabulous and wonderful subjects–I’m in Chicago!

Thing one: Roommate #1 is my favorite. And, obviously, things that are my favorite are also things that make me unendingly happy. So I will buy her pizza and shriek a lot when I see her. This is my grand master plan.

Thing two: you know what else makes me happy? Puppies. So I’m going to go look at pictures of them. Pictures of adoptable ones of them. Because Luna needs a friend. She is so much happier when there is someone to play with and, while I try, I can’t always play (sorry, Luna, momma has to bring home the bacon…and eggs…and sausage links…). But another puppy! They could always play!

I was going to wait until I move to start looking for dogs, but I am starting to think that there’s no time like the present. Sometimes it takes a while to find the perfect rescue–particularly if you’re looking for certain breeds (read: hypo-allergenic, non-shedding puppies)–so there’s no harm in starting the quest now.

Speaking of the quest, I put my name down at the local animal shelter for any schnauzers that might happen to grace their facility. Schnauzers are a rare one for animal shelters, so I thought it’d be a few months of waiting. At least. Particularly since I want the dog to still be relatively young, so that it can romp with the Lun-ster.

But, no. I got a call the next day. Crazy craziness.

We went down to the shelter and met her and she was darling. Darling in an I-need-to-save-you type way, that is. So if any of you are looking for a Schnauzer (or just a good dog) in Denver, you should go adopt her.

They were calling her Fussy (but who knows what her name is, since she was found and has no known history) and she’s 1/4 of her body weight overweight. Imagine having an extra fourth on you: what would that be? 25 extra lbs? 50 extra lbs? That’s a lot to carry around.

And the poor thing was waddling and wheezing and it was so sad. The good news is that she’s young–only six years old-ish–so once she loses the weight, she still has the chance to live a long and lovely puppy life. But for now she has trouble getting around.

Which brings me to a rant: don’t get a dog if you are going to ignore it. Okay? Thanks.

In the end, the two concerns/deal breakers for me were:

A) the dog was a barker. And that’s the one dog behavioral problem that I have a hard time reacting reasonably to (thank God, Luna isn’t a big barker) and

B) I assume she’d be good for a romp once she lost the weight, but I can’t be sure. And a big part of this (in addition to being because I love puppies and having a dog has been the best thing that’s happened to me since meeting Roommate #1, whom I’ve decided is my healthy relationship, by which all men will be judged) is for Luna to have a reasonably similar energy level dog to play with while I’m doing things like buying groceries and working from home and such.

So, if anyone knows someone looking for a darling, easy-going dog who needs a little TLC in the form of daily walks, stop by the Dumb Friends League in Denver. And if anyone knows of a non-barking Schnauzer, please do tell.

This is how I feel about puppies.

.One.
There is a lot of screaming that goes on at The Cherry Creek club. Sometimes it’s worrisome. I’ve gotten up in the middle of the night more than once, rushing to my window to make sure no one was being murdered or raped in our parking lot. Not that I think anyone would be murdered or raped here—other than crazy domestic disturbance neighbor, I feel quite safe. But people scream here. And it’s unnerving.

Yet another reason not to move here. Be-frickin-ware.

.Two.
I find branding to be one of the most productive and wonderful uses of time ever dreamt up. There are plenty of stressful or difficult things about working in advertising, but branding, branding is the kind of thing—when done well—that makes everything else fit together and all the small, boring things suddenly become useful.

.Three.
Luna has (mostly) learned to heel. And now we’ve moved on to “come.” And “don’t be utterly terrified by passing cars.” She’ll make it to therapy dog status yet. And I’m going to take her to all the places she’s been kicked out of with a gleeful “ha!”