Everyone loves puppies. So it will come as no surprise when I tell you I'm am nuts about our new puppy, a long-haired miniature dachshund. But I never knew that a dog can chew on a floor! Yes, it can be done.
Nor did I expect him to reduce me to stomping desperately around the kitchen looking for urine puddles and saying things through clenched teeth like "why is your penis wet?" Nor did I anticipate his believing that my big blue exercise ball is a terrifying foe.
Puppy-raising theory has changed since my long-ago childhood. Nowadays, you're told not to rub puppies' noses in their doo-doo nor whack them with a newspaper. You're told not to give them table scraps. You're supposed to brush their teeth regularly with doggy toothpaste that smells like fish, and engage in something called "anal expression." (Icky-poo.) And, according to our puppy manual, it's best to "have a special sound that only means 'no' for the puppy, so instead of raising your voice and saying 'no,' try using 'Erhhh' instead. Use a guttural, half bark half growl sound when saying 'Erhhh.'" I've tired it several times, but it just makes me sound like a pirate. I guess the idea is to make me seem like the alpha dog. Or part of the pack-leading alpha COUPLE. The book says that leading wolf couple, a male and female wolf -- though surely there are gay wolf couples out there -- leads the pack, and implies that my husband and I should assume the role of pack-leading couple in our puppy's mind. So we are Mr. and Mrs. Wolf now, I guess, at least on a good day.
Names today: Bucky Godbolt, Blossom Fight,
Octavius Frothingham
I hereby confess that I do not much resemble the gal in the picture on my blog "mast-head". I chose the picture because I thought it was cute and I like the floating musical notes. I don't really have a pink iPod, and I'm too old for off-the shoulder tops (at least in public), and my dog doesn't wear a pink sweater. But there's a dermatologist in my town (and she's a very good doctor) who does use someone else's picture on her website. If I thought this cute redhead were the doctor, and made an appointment to see her for eczema or blotchy skin or folliculitis, I'd be awfully surprised when I got to the office and found that the real doctor is someone else entirely. Is this weirdly misleading, or am I just being cranky?
