Eight Pounds of Pounce
Posts promise to be fewer and shorter than usual. We are underÂ siege. The source is a bipolar pup, half barracuda, half Miss Congeniality, a chimera of canine good and evil.
The snickersnack of the jaws: how to divert over and over into acceptable directions and towards acceptable approved objects: that is the challenge.
Today will be our first solo run, just Gandy and me, all the live-long day.
She did as well her second night as she did her first. We shouldn’t complain. It all goes with the job description, and we knew what to expect. Still, to have your life completely co-opted by eight pounds of fur-wrapped energy when I thought I was going to be doing so many other things with this prime time for writing in the winter months…well, think again.
A saving grace: when she gets in her snuggly mood, she is happy in her crate (where she is at the moment) and naps for a while and I have an unpredictable few minutes to eat, shower, write a blog post, answer an email. But write a book about dogs? What was I thinking!