I was grooving on the irony of having one post about how much I love my dogs and how great they are and another post showing how I like to stuff my dog into species-inappropriate habitats and laugh.
tonight, however, I got that very primal reminder that even if you love your little dog a million pounds and even if you want to keep him happy and even if he is generally well behaved and doesn’t run away…things can happen.
I got that reminder twice.
1) on the way home from dropping Anna off a large dog came out of nowhere, bolted across the street and ran into the side of a moving car. Strangely enough, there was a cop between me and the guy that got hit by the dog. The dog was okay, very dazed and obviously not feeling good, but up and walking after a few minutes. I sat in my car and cried. The dogs owner was almost hysterical, you could tell she was terrified that her dog had been hurt. He just happened to get out without the leash.
2) when I got home and I was dragging stuff in, David came out to help me and Ghengis ran out the door. As I said before, I never get too concerned, he never runs far and comes when called. He even got in the car with me to ride the ten feet into the garage. Then he bolted. He just looked at me, looked around the yard and took off. At one point he ran into the alley and into the path of an oncoming minivan. The minivan was going slow enough that he was never in danger, but good christ that puts a fear in you. Then he took off around the house and ran all over. Eventually he came in, but I was not pleased with him. He only got 2 little bits of my carnitas burrito.
So after much wrangling and finagling, I finally got a dogsitter. The ever lovely and vaguely humble Anna will be watching the dogs and feeding the lizards and generally doing things like getting out of her house for a weekend. For this I am grateful and for this I will produce for her a batch of salsa verde and a batch of hummus (as well as cash and the burrito and horchata I bought for her dinner tonight).
Tomorrow I am off to the neutrino collector (I know I type neuron collector previously, that was wrong. Please always keep in mind that my brain is a loose collection of paperclips, bits of string, bright strips of foil, lint, cogs, gears, pins, v-belts, brushings and cottong batting all poorly maintained by a minimally trained mousy gnome. Yes a gnome). Also we will hopefully be camping, hiking and kayaking and peeing in the wilderness. If I die you can have my shoes.

Okay, so I’m resolving to stop bitching about people so much. Call it my zen live-and-let-live moment or something. I can’t quite descibe it, but I’m having this revelation of “just because someone is doing something I don’t like it doesn’t mean they are wrong, just that it’s not what I would do”. I suspect it won’t last long, mocking other people is the cheap bastion of the uninspired and let me tell you, I am no great light in the sky.
This means 2 things
1) the fucktard in the rusty Chey Cavalier who cut me off tonight gets a pass
2) I will regale you with yet another post about my dogs because my dogs are by far the happiest beings on the planet. Way happier than any person I know.
Okay so.
Every night I walk my dogs. I generally wait until late, usually around midnight. This is partly because I live in a pretty dog intensive neighborhood and my dogs are pretty damned excited by dogs (Ghengis in a happy way, Maddie in a protective way) and partly because I love the late night peace of my neighborhood. On the return trip we walk up the alley behind my house. About halfway up the alley I let Ghengis off his leash. It’s very late at night, there’s never really anyone around and he does not run away.
He doesn’t run away but he takes off like a springloaded rabbit hellbent on dominating the carrot kingdom. He flies up the alley to my driveway, up the driveway around the house, into the alley, back to me. He makes a wide circle behind me and does the whole circuit over and over again until I reach the driveway. Just this little dog beating every ounce of muscle into the pavement, running so hard and fast you are sure he could rocket to the moon.
When Maddie and I reach the driveway he races around the house until I reach the front door, the I hold the screen open and he runs in without even being called. Sometimes I’ll chase him around the back yard or play tag with him, sometimes I just pretend I am going to grab him, I lunge and growl as he passes me.
There are those who say that dogs do not feel any but the basest emotions, that it’s not in their brains or something. They say dogs can’t smile or express joy. I defy you to prove to me that Ghengis is not smiling, that he is not laughing silently as he runs and turns and leaps around. Every night I let the little brown dog off his leash because there is nothing that makes him happier than running and in turn there is nothing that makes me happier than seeing him get to do that.
The pleasure is entirely simple and satisfying.

Proof positive that I am in the running for worst dog owner ever. Today we stuck Ghengis in a 55 gallon aquarium.

Now we have to vacuum all his hair out of there so we can move the lizards into their new home.
I have much cleaning and packing to do. I’m going up to the Soudan mine and neutron collector this weekend! Party on, science nerds!

Yesterday, Patti gave me a giant chocolate chip cookie which I brought home to eat when I was feeling better. I took it out of my purse and put it up before I left for dinner. Maddie still managed to find it and eat it.
I know it was Maddie because I found the wrapper on her dog bed, Ghengis hides his treats in other places.
You kow how people are saying “you can only yell at a dog WHILE they are doing something bad”? The reasoning being that they forget easily and if they aren’t doing the thing you are yelling at them for (like eating the cookie) they will be confused about why you are yelling at them. That’s not as true as you might think. I found the cookie wrapper on Maddie’s bed and held it up. She had total guilt face. I just stood there looking at her. Normally when I do that she comes up to me for a hug. Not this time. She tried to hide under the coffee table, then she jumped up on the sofa and hid her face in the cushions. I walked up her her and she totally rolled on her back, begging for forgiveness.
I told her to not eat my cookies!
Later that night she got an upset belly. Luckily, she didn’t throw up on the bed or anything.
At 2 in the morning I found myself holding her giant head in my arms as we lay in bed together. I rubbed her rumbling belly and sang the Hippo Head Jones song and the Beautiful Boombalatty song. Then I made up an “Amazing Adventures of Hippo Head Jones and Crocodile Bob” story for her, this time about how they came across a village in the jungle and the villagers were all nice to them and everything, but they had a hut that was all locked up. The hut smelled so good, they really wanted to go in there. That night they snuck into the hut and found big piles of something so tasty! Hippo Head Jones and Crocodile Bob ate and ate and ate and the next morning the villagers chased them away for eating all the fertilizer for their manioc fields. And all the next day, Hippo Head Jones and Crocodile Bob sat in their little blue boat getting sick and farting on each other.
Lesson learned? Naw, she’ll eat every cookie she finds forever.