More rain today, coming from what looks like the same high clouds. The grass is clearly growing now and I can’t deny it. I will have to mow the next time we have sun enough to dry the place out. and the leaves now want to uncurl their fists. It is happening, with, or without the sunshine. Spring is happening. Slowly.
Jan needed to go in for an MRI this morning and I drove her down. Dot charged right back into the house and jumped up onto the counter and started eating the butter in the dish. We had a serious disagreement about that then she jumped onto the couch without getting dried off first which I was crabby about and when she nipped at me when I began drying her with a towel, I would say our differences escalated into full fledged physical conflict. When I went down to get Jan from her appointment Dot and I were not speaking and Jan agreed to act as an intermediary. It was suggested that I take “the dog” out during a break in the rain and try to run some of the “piss and vinegar” out of her. Which I did by kicking a soccer ball sized fishing buoy back and forth in our yard for about forty five minutes. This developed into kind of a soccer gave which got us both running back and forth and when she would catch up with me all I had to do was make a long pass to my imaginary team mate whom Dot would wrestle to the ground as she gathered up the ball in a series of summersaulting motions then grabbing the ball by the hard plastic eyelets or “ears” and bring right back to me with a kind of jubilation and pride. After about a half hour of this we were both tired enough that there were no hard feelings on either side. After forty minutes we were both ready for a nap under pretext of “working at our desk” where Dot made only one attempt to get up on my desk to eat my sticky notes, which I now believe she thinks are pats of butter, and then she fell right asleep in front of my fake electric fireplace which has a rather comforting rattle next to the fake flames.
The incomplete Dot, I didn’t capture her nose.. As I was taking this she began to wake up and I didn’t dare take another! Notice the open eye. I thought she was going to go all velociraptor on me.
Jan and I have come to an agreement that Dot enjoys getting up on the counters now just because she can. It’s as if you suddenly grew so big you could dunk a basket ball and everywhere you went were balls and hoops, you know you would be doing it all the time, no matter how irritating it was to others, who couldn't dunk. Come on! You know you would. Anyway… we have two cubes of butter with Dot teeth impressions. We have salvaged the useable butter from them. I’m going to take the remaining parts with Dot Cooties all over them, and place them in “harms way” near the edge of the counter with a good dose of extra XXX HOT sauce right on the butter and see if that has any effect on her. Before you turn me in to PETA remember this is a dog who eats poop and ROCKS without any problems.. And a battery. it won’t hurt her.
Then we will continue our training using strong language for the negative and lavish praise, smooches, (in spite of the above mentioned poop eating!) and treats for the positive, as well as my obscure discourse for moral guidance (“and boredom” Jan would add) Last night Dot continued her latest bad behavior of barking at us when we sit down and eat. (Note: I feed her before we eat, she has food in her bowl. I REFUSE TO FEED HER AT OUR TABLE. NOT HAPPENING) Anyway… we sat down and started eating and I swear this is the only time she barks but she starts in barking at us, and I yelled, “STOP BARKING AT US, YOU LITTLE BITCH!” and Jan turned to me calmly and asked?, “What happened to “Dot, this isn’t a barking situation? ALSO…Just put the butter in the fridge after you use it.” Great, now I live with two females who are smarter than I am.
Dot’s new enclosure, where we lower the live cows down to her.
Maybe it is because I was raised by alcoholics and I enjoy an element of chaos in my life. Or maybe its the ketamine, but I love this dog. She makes me laugh. She irritates me just enough to take me out of my own sense of having everything figured out. She gets me to the point of “Okay that’s it. I’m at my wits end! I’m taking you to the animal shelter!” Then she does something so endearing that she reminds me that I was never in charge of anything. What was I thinking? We are all just animals, doing the best we can, we want food and attention and freedom to play and be in the moment. For what am I so uptight? I should chew on more bones.
Rain like tears
falling on the windows
while the black dog sleeps.
jhs
Here is a recording of me reading another short story I wrote for John Harvey. It stars Cecil Younger and a time he had to serve some papers on a guy up in Talkeetna. Give a listen. Dot was very well behaved. She slept the entire time.
