Well, folks, today the chaos begins! After the APW reading last night (!) a bunch of us went out for drinks and talking and we all stayed up way past our bedtimes. More than three people said to me, “Aw, we’re old. It’s totally past our bedtime.” When do we accept that if we’re all saying it, we’re all old, and we can just be sad that we’re not in our pajamas without mentioning our ages at all? Maybe I should admit that it was around 9pm that this refrain was going around.

Anyway, what better day to start the chaos of a “full time” (unpaid) job than the morning after a night of revelry with sane, practical folk? No better way, my friends. No better way. It may be chaotic, but that’s how I like it. I think Daphne’s face here is a pretty accurate representation of how I am feeling.

So here we go! Have a wonderful day, I will be off playing with dogs and yelling at rowers. Happy Thursday!

Okay, I know they should be well-behaved; they are, after all, the dogs of a dog trainer who trains for fun. But they are also each uniquely, ahem, challenged. I believe that Daph’s challenges stem from 1. her lack of socialization as a puppy, and 2. being really smart; and Faegan’s challenges stem from 1. still being a puppy, and 2. being kind of dumb.

smart puppy asking nicely

Most mornings, I open the door and yell, “Dogs!” Usually, Faegan comes running in, full speed, and often slips/trips/slams into something because omg something superawesome must be happening inside! This is her lack of brain at work. In the meantime, Daphne is doing the opposite and actually using her brain: she maybe looks at me, considers the presence or lack of treats in my hand, and decides whether or not it is worth her precious time to saunter over to me.

But today? I called them, and they both happily came right in. Not slowly, not fast enough to hurt themselves or anyone else; just right, quickly but safely. And then? Then they sat down in front of me and waited politely for their treats. And then they practiced sitting, lying down, “crawling,” and “asking nicely,” and they nailed every single one. Adorable. Faegan even took her treats politely and without biting my hand off – victory!

does this face look smart to you?

And now they’re in their crates with no chance to get into trouble, so hooray! I have well-behaved dogs at least for the morning.*

*It is important to record that this actually happens, especially when with a puppy, you are alternately yelling, “OMG this puppy is THE BEST,” and “Shit, puppies are THE WORST.” Let me tell you, my wife is dissatisfied with our general living situation when I am the one complaining that we have too many dogs.

The truth of it, though, is that I have been doing work. I have been rowing and petsitting and dog training and learning about dog training. I have been networking and self-caring it up like whoa (sometimes I even do art projects. Crazy!). I often feel guilty about that last part. Like, how dare I just take care of myself and be able to live on that? Really?

Okay, I admit: I feel guilty about it right now.

How unfair is it that I got to hang out at home today, watch TV, and drink wine? Okay, if we’re being totally honest I should also admit that I did some networking, completed financial aid stuff, did my taxes, hiked the dogs, vacuumed the house, had a doctor’s appointment, did homework, and cleaned the house. So the day was not a total  wash. Maybe the real lesson here is that I need to write my lists differently.

One of the requirements for my school program is that I work 30 hours a week “in my field.” This is in addition to classes, so the whole shebang takes up around 60+ hours a week. Starting… this week. For now (e.g. today and tomorrow), I am trying to appreciate these slow days, and I am trying to give myself permission to do things like watch 4 consecutive episodes of The United States of Tara (SO much better than I thought it would be. I think I’m in love with John Corbett.). These are my last days, I keep telling myself. Love them! Take advantage of them! TAKE AS MUCH CARE AS POSSIBLE BECAUSE THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE EVER.

And you know what? I think it might be a good thing if that is really, truly true. If this is my last year of underemployment, of free time, of saying, “Well, I can sleep in tomorrow because I have no plans!” (For the record, sleeping in means till, say, 6:50am. I know.), that could really be a good thing. I don’t do well with free time. I need chaos. I need to squeeze my little pleasures into the corners of my hours, which are also listed in neat checklists. Free time be damned!

What I’ve learned from taking a year off? That’s a great question. I think I have learned to slow down, and to appreciate a long afternoon. I have learned to revel in the sunlight and appreciate a good long walk with the dogs. I have learned to approach time as if there is SO MUCH OF IT, which I know is not exactly true but is a nice opposing view to THERE IS TOO MUCH TIME MUST FILL IT UP.

As I said a little over a year ago: Fingers crossed, here we go.

Well, are any of you actually surprised that this blog has turned into a dog blog?

oh, uh, hey. fancy meeting you here.

I tried to resist it at first, but you know what? I’m trying to be honest with myself here. I love talking about dogs and dog behavior. Frankly, I need somewhere to do it. Yesterday I saw my friend/classmate who is the only other person in my grad program who works with dogs (everyone else works with autistic kids) and both of us sort of fell over ourselves talking about our dogs, our clients, and the dramas that are playing out between our dogs and cats*. I cannot believe how happy I was to talk dogs and behavior with someone who not only cares, but is as excited about it as I am.

A lot of wedding blogs I read (that’s past tense, thanks folks) said, “I have this blog so that my best friend/mother/fiance doesn’t have to listen to me talk about my wedding ALL. THE. TIME.” And while that is not why I write about my dogs here, maybe it should be. Every time I open my mouth to talk dog stuff, I can see Turtle’s expression become sort of, shall we say, resigned.

what happens when i talk about dogs

I just finished reading Gretchen Rubin’s The Happiness Project. I know, I know, I’m a bit late to the game. But I’m here! I’m playing! And I loved it. Not all of it was for me (see the parts about being nice to your kids), but a lot of it was, or it had ways to be applied to my life.  I actually got inspired to clean some clutter. The biggest thing that is sticking with me, though, is to Be Gretchen. Except I think it’s really supposed to be Be Bird. The gist of that is: Don’t try to like things you don’t like; don’t try to be something you’re not. Don’t do things that you don’t want to do just because you think you should. Or, if we want to spin it more positively: Be honest with yourself. Love the things you love and dedicate your free time and your passion to those things.

a thing to which I dedicate my free time & passion

So, in case you didn’t see this one coming, I love dogs and I love behavior. I also like rearranging furniture in my house, so maybe you’ll see a post or two about that. But in the meantime, I’ll finally just admit out loud that this is something of a dog blog. Welcome.**

*Major drama that I will probably only write about once it’s resolved.
**Once I admitted this to myself, I suddenly went from posting twice a month to three times a week. Amazing.

“We’re just going to go ahead and mark it off… I’m sorry, you’re in our zone.”

“We rented quite a few DVDs! And returned them on time.”

“Whose dog is that, with the lips that are falling off?”

Ahhh, hilarious.

the book a dog ate

I should clarify that, by “book-eating dogs”, I really mean a book-eating puppy and a well-behaved dog who came along for the trip, because even well-behaved dogs can handle some exercise and Daphne loves to run.

The dog park near our house is a giant field surrounded by woods. It’s not fenced in, but all the dogs stick around. Because it’s not fenced it, it works well for Daphne, who, as I have mentioned before, can get testy when she’s on a leash or fenced in. She is very fast and if she’s ever uncomfortable, she runs away. It’s a pretty good system. We have not faced an aggressive dog that thought it was worth chasing her. And Faegan is mostly just perfect at the park (though obviously not at home; again, see “book-eating dog”) and is the Official Greeter of the Park (she must say hello to EVERY SINGLE LIVING CREATURE she can find there before she is willing to play).

the dogs playing in one small corner of the park in question

Monday afternoon, all was going well. The dogs were greeting and playing, the humans were chatting. You know, just a Monday afternoon near the woods. And then a vicious pit bull attacked me!

the first results that come up when you Google image search "vicious pit bull"

Oh, wait. It was not a pit bull at all. It was a labradoodle, or golden-doodle.

the first results that come up when you Google image search "vicious goldendoodle"**

That’s right, folks: my pit bull puppy*** was playing politely with other dogs when a goldendoodle-thing body-slammed Daphne. No big deal; body slamming happens at the park. But Daphne bared her teeth at the dog that had startled her. And while some dogs would be all, “Okay, not going to slam into you again, NBD,” this dog was all, “Don’t show your teeth at me, bitch!” To which my lovely dog responded, “Don’t fucking talk to me that way!”

And a dogfight ensued.

A couple of things to mention here: First, the dogs did not actually have this conversation. I know, shocker. Believe it or not, dogs do not speak human words. What really happened is that after Daph showed her teeth, the dog lunged at her and then started to go away; I grabbed Daphne so she couldn’t follow him. And then, while I was holding onto my dog, the other dog turned around and went after her. OH HELL NO.

Somewhere along the line of my trying to hold my dog back and push the other dog away (and no one else helping!), the dog nailed me on the leg.

Awesome.

That’s when I let go of Daphne and she went away (went away! Did not continue fighting! Just escaped!). Other people came over to collect their dogs, who had gathered around (“Fight, fight, fight…”). I kept saying, “Is this your dog? He bit me,” but no one would claim him. At this point I could feel the huge bump on my leg, but my pants weren’t torn and I wouldn’t have been able to see it without taking my pants off, which, frankly, I considered doing. Finally some guy said it was his dog… and immediately launched into how they would have worked it out and how I was an idiot for getting into the middle of a dogfight.

Alright, let’s back this up here. I think that there are a lot of times in which you should just let dogs sort it out. Dogs communicate with each other a lot better than we communicate with them. There are a lot of things they can sort out on their own, and a scuffle here and there is not a bad thing, nor is it always worth breaking up.

healthy play scuffle in the yard

But! I also know my dog. I know when she is scuffling, and I know when she is not. Daphne has come a long, long way since we got her (see above, where I refer to her as the “well-behaved dog”), but we have been in some sticky spots with her. She got in a dog fight once, and there was blood. I saw her warning signs that time, and I didn’t step in when I should have. This time I stepped in.

Long story short to get this thing wrapped up: I have a nice sized bruise on my leg. The guy reluctantly gave me his name and phone number, and after I walked over a hill to sob for a few minutes, he came over and apologized. (Am I crazy to think that the first things you say in an accident – car-, dog-, or other-related – is “I’m sorry!” and “Are you okay?” And if you don’t want to even suggest that you might possibly be at fault, fine, skip the “I’m sorry” and go straight to the “are you okay?” Am I the only one who thinks that? Aren’t we all nice people under the stress and awfulness of accidents?) Then he proceeded to tell me again that I shouldn’t get in the middle of a dogfight.

After having slept on it, I know a couple of things: I know my dog and I am glad I stepped in. I know that if I had let it play out, one of the dogs would have gotten hurt. I know that I did the right thing.

(I hear a lot of people, like this guy, claiming that their dog is dominant, and that is why XY or Z occurs. I am still sorting out what is fact and what is common belief about “dominance” in pet dogs. There is a great article on how dominance is not a personality trait here, and it is definitely worth at least taking a look at if you have a dog or interact with a dog, you know, ever.)

I believe there are inherent rules at the dog park: you pick up the poop when you can and you do your best to keep other people and dogs safe from your dog. Because you are the only person responsible for your dog’s behavior. Repeat: you are the only person responsible for your dog’s behavior. If your dog turns around and bites a person? That’s on you. If it knocks over a kid? Well, I’m not sure why that kid was at the dog park, but regardless – that is your responsibility. That said, there is no sign that says that, and after my interaction yesterday, it seems that I may be the only one who believes that.

The dog park is very important for my puppy. She gets to run a lot, which mostly keeps her happy and prevents her from crying and destroying our home, and she gets to interact with a lot of other well-behaved dogs and people. It is truly an excellent opportunity for socialization for her, which is really important to me. It’s also a great place for Daphne to run, and it has plenty of space for her to avoid other dogs – most of the time. Lesson learned (again)? I sort of hate dog parks. They are not for everyone, and maybe they are not for Daphne.

happier in the woods next to the field

Other lessons learned? To trust myself. I spent too much time wondering if I did the right thing and thinking, “Maybe that guy is right. Maybe I should have let it play out.” No. I am doing what is best for my dogs, and that is the right priority. Also, dog bites that don’t break the skin make for some pretty bruises. And my last lesson learned is that there is no attractive way to take a close-up photo of your own thigh.

Have you seen things like this happen at the dog park (or car accidents, or whatever)? I admit that if it was happening 30 feet away, I would not have gotten involved… but I like to think I would have gone to see if the person was okay. What would you do? What are you supposed to do?

because every blog post needs an adorable puppy picture

*I did offer to take my pants off to show the owner that his dog had actually bitten me. He declined. Ah, the lengths I will go to to prove that I am right.
**Does it seem unfair to anyone else that there are a billion pictures of pittie teeth and NO pictures of Goldendoodle teeth? It bothers me. I have no pit bull bruises, but a nice Goldendoodle bruise.
***Okay, technically she’s a Staffordshire/Bull Terrier/Schipperke mix.

You can read more about why I hate the (other) dog park here.

Someone recently asked me about keeping pitties warm in the cold climate. You may or may not know – because why would you really care before it’s relevant for you? – that pitties (mixes included here) tend to have not very much fur. Poor little Faegan has a bare, bare belly, which is fun to rub but also means she spends a lot of time shivering outside (and occasionally inside if we dare let the temperature fall below 65 degrees. She suffers, my friends, she suffers.).

clearly suffering.

Our vet says that she’s fine; he says that as dogs get older, they develop the fat that will keep them warmer, and that they really don’t need sweaters and jackets and the like. But that’s hard to remember when you’re standing outside and your puppy is just looking at you with those sad, sad eyes and shivering. I should note that this is also how she convinced us she needed to be allowed on the couch every single night (only when invited, though – we are strict about that. It’s just that now we invite her EVERY NIGHT.). Often, when it’s time to go to bed, we wrap her up in one of the blankets in her crate. Who knows if this actually does anything for her, but we think it’s pretty cute:

I think this is her embarrassed face.

Anyway, on to the sweaters! We have four for her, but two of them are duplicates in different sizes (she has outgrown the knit one you see on her here!), and the other is this one:

I think we should all be embarrassed that my puppy has the same “quilted jacket” as a shaven little white fluffy dog. I hang my head in shame. You also can’t see that it has a little lined “collar”, which serves absolutely no functional purpose. That said, she really doesn’t seem to mind wearing this one, it’s fleece lined (she’s so toasty underneath!) and it makes it easy to see her in the woods when we go hiking. Besides that I hate PetCo and UnLeashed, I admit to liking this jacket.

Here is her knit sweater, in the size that is now very snug on her. I think this is the biggest indicator for me that she’s growing. Her larger size fits like this one, so I can pretend she’s still tiny! This works well for cool weather or if she seems cold in the house. Plus it’s adorable. Someone at the park said to me, “How can anyone be afraid of a pit bull in a sweater?” True story, folks.

Finally, she has her RuffWear jacket from REI. You guys, I seriously love RuffWear. Their products are so useful, durable, and just functional! This one is pretty waterproof, fleece lined, and easy to put on (no having to pick up her paws and put them through the paw-holes like the silly knit sweater). We got the same jacket for Daph a couple of years ago, but she refused to wear it. And it’s almost always on sale at REI, so it actually cost the same as the silly PetCo sweaters! Win all around!

I would really love to get one of these, which would cover her poor bare belly:

RuffWear Cloud Chaser jacket

We haven’t really had any snow yet in Boston, so I haven’t worried too much about it… but when it comes we might have to invest in this. Hopefully she’ll be at her full size by then!

Finally, if your dog is cold in the house, just cover her in lights! They’ll warm her up eventually.*

Do you dress your dog(s) up for business or pleasure (theirs or yours – either way)? What are your favorite cold-weather dog-protecting products? Have any of you done skijooring (I found a kit while I was looking for the images to link to! I want it!)? How cute is my puppy?

*Not actually recommended. AT ALL. Please do not put lights on your dog without close supervision and a plan for how to get to your nearest emergency vet. This message brought to you by I Am Not Responsible For Weird Things Your Dog Eats, Inc.

Not this past New Year’s Eve, but the one before that, the clock struck midnight and I breathed an enormous sigh of relief. It was a new year, and I was damn grateful that 2010 was over; here’s to 2011! We went to bed about five minutes later (thank you to our very understanding friends who realized that it was well after 10pm and we were pretty much already asleep. Yes, drinking champagne… while sleeping. It’s a talent, dear readers, a true talent.).

But you know what? 2010 was not that bad in the first place, which was sometimes hard to realize. Yes, my parents separated; we had some pretty big conflicts with some pretty good friends; Turtle was unemployed and we struggled with that; I quit my job and finished the year working really, really hard and feeling really, really overwhelmed. Yes to all of that.

But also, yes to this: to GETTING MARRIED; to having a new family; to navigating all of those ups and downs and sideways-es in the context of our new family; to having a pretty awesome wedding; fostering kittens; making internet friends.

The point is, you guys, that you can spin it either way.

This year, we did not stay up until midnight. We went to a friend’s house and hung out with her and her kids (who called and asked us to “please bring the puppy. We will take care of her while you talk to the grownups!”) and our puppy, and we ate lots of food and played Taboo and were home before 10. Before we went to bed, I thought, 2011 had its ups and its downs too. Downs: paralyzing anxiety starting January 1st; parents divorce; terrible awful housing situation; being very poor. Ups: BEING married(!); moving to a new and amazing housing situation; starting school; getting a puppy (!); BEING a family.

I realized that the huge sigh of relief was very one-sided. It was getting away from the bad. But this year? I’m sure more hard things will happen. I’m sure the struggles will come this year and in the many (I hope) years to come. But I’m also confident that wonderful, wonderful things will happen, and that I will have lists like this – the oh-so-good and the really-pretty-hard – for every single year, and I am grateful for that.

So here’s to all of the directions we go in, in every single year! Here’s to my family, your family, and all of you. Happy new year!

Oh. Uh, hello! I didn’t see you there. What? A puppy in my lap? ON THE COUCH? Never.

Two puppies on the couch? Okay, maybe sometimes.

Happy New Year! We (the dogs and I) have been spending most of our days out in the woods and most of our nights curled up on the couch. And just to clarify, the rule is “No dogs on the couch unless invited.” The last two words are key, obviously. Honestly, we have all been spending the evenings snuggling, which has been really nice. Turtle participates, too, but she doesn’t take pictures of that.

I realize you are all catching up on blogs and resolutions and recaps, and maybe I will get to some of those eventually, but for now I just have cute pictures that make me happy.

For real, happy new year, and I look forward to talking at you this coming year.