Suburban Bliss:: Birth Control Via The Written Word

Update On Lucy

I know you've all been waiting anxiously to hear what my Neurotic Dog is doing. When we last spoke of my Naughty Dog, she was eating the furniture, not the crappy Ikea stuff, or $10 thrift store finds. No she went right for the good stuff. The low bookshelf Logan made with his own two hands. 

Then she ate a nice pair of Logan's shoes and the Garmin he uses for running. I was pretty frustrated and wondering how a dog in a crockpot would take. Maybe with a little garlic and lemon?

So here's the update. The leaner cuts were delicious, but a little gristly. 

Actually it became clear we were going to have to crate her. Even though, as I said before, she was terrified and coated in urine whenever we put her in it in the past. I couldn't risk anymore of our belongings, especially since this is a rental and if she ate a kitchen cabinet? I'd have to kill her. For real.

Someone theorized that the crate we were using was too big so I went a size down so that she can just barely stand up in it. It has a plastic pan on the bottom so it doesn't make any loud noises when she moves around in it as well. She has yet to pee in it and isn't shaking uncontrollably. In fact when I come home she's laying curled up in her blanket. Amazing. Last night she walked over and climbed in all on her own. I fainted.

So it would seem that it's the size of the crate that's the problem. Except, that I also started giving her a kong filled with Spam whenever i put her in it. 

Oh and I decided her anxiety was too much to let her live with. Her life is one where she's constantly on alert and I just wasn't comfortable letting her never relax. So we started on some anxiety medicine. 

So far it does seem to help and eventually we'll wean her off the medication. But for now, Knock On Wood, our belongings are safe and Lucy seems a little less terrified of everything. 

Although she still shakes uncontrollably if anyone raises their voice. Doesn't even have to be in anger, she doesn't like joy either. 

So we all speak in monotone. 

 

 

(not really)

....and now she eats the furniture.

I was all excited to write a follow up post on Lucy My Neurotic Dog. We've seen two different trainers, had one over a couple of times for walks through town. We are back in obedience classes to help raise Lucy's self esteem. I'm also taking her to daycare at least once a week also to help build her confidence around strangers and other dogs.

YES I KNOW what kind of a person it makes me that I'm spending hundreds of dollars trying to raise my dog's self esteem. I know. I didn't know I would be this person a year ago and yet, here I am. 

She's still kind of nuts but I've learned to not really care what other people think. She doesn't like new people, if you want to stick your hand in her face, I'll block and intercept as best I can, but when you're horrified that she doesn't want you to pet her...I just. Frankly I don't care anymore.

Half of you think I'm right to feel that way. The other half of you think I'm a horrible person. And that's fine, I've accepted that I'm right and I'm wrong. 

I was going to tell you how our trainer told us that we need to make some very simple, but significant in dog language, changes in how we treat her. Things like making her sit at the top of the stairs while I go ahead of her, making her wait inside while I go out the door for our walks, not letting her sit on the sofa until she "earns" the right by doing a trick or is invited up.

I was going to tell you how much nicer things are with her and how I feel like she's still neurotic but I'm learning to manage her neurosis.

Then yesterday I left her alone for an hour and a half while I took Maddie to the doctor. 

We came home for 30 minutes and then ran out to pick Max up at his school. We were gone for 20 minutes, tops. In that amount of time Lucy decided that the bookcase Logan made with his own two hands, maybe the nicest piece of furniture we own...would make a delicious snack.

Last night I had several dreams about cooking Lucy in the crockpot. Maybe with a little tomato based sauce....maybe spread over noodles? Maybe wrapped in tortillas. Ole! 

You know what would be great? If walking, running, dog-parking, day caring, obedience training and loving the crap out of a dog would make her just a teeny less neurotic.

Apparently not. 
But crap I love her.  

My Goodness.

Hoo Boy! I forgot how fired up the Internet gets about pets. I wrote about letting my kids walk home less than a 10th of a mile alone and braced myself for anger. And....nothing. I write venting my frustration level with my dog being at level red, and JESUS CHRIST!!!! (!!!!!) (And again, to match the anger...!!!!!!!)

The problem with writing is sometimes there are gaps in a narrative. When you leave any gap, and believe me when I tell you there will always be gaps when writing about one's life, those gaps will be filled in with other people's perceptions and then....

Then the magic happens.

Lucy you see, just needs to be crated! (I didn't mention her intense fear of the crate and the urinating all over herself whenever left in it...even when we're home with her and she's in it.)

Lucy BIT SOMEONE AND I BLAMED THE VICTIM! (Lucy barked at a woman who tried to touch her, because dogs can't talk and Lucy doesn't want you to touch her. Lucy was wearing a Halty that won't let her open her mouth enough to bite anyone.)

I'll grant you though, reading your wild declarations, admonishments and helpful personal experiences has made me spend time thinking about what I do and don't expect from a dog in our family and what I am willing to deal with and what is a deal breaker. 

I was thinking about the times I've gone through struggles as a parent. I realized pretty early on what worked for one parent/child/family doesn't necessarily work for another. I read books that laid out the "right" way to raise a baby, to potty train, to get a baby to sleep through the night and almost all those books said or implied if you didn't follow this path your child would grow up to be broken or damaged in some way. 

One book I specifically remember reading when dealing with Maddie's sensitive temperament said, in essence, almost nothing is worth forcing the issue with your sensitive child. Make two meals if your kid doesn't like what you're eating, don't go to the mall if it overwhelms your child....

I was willing to accept that Maddie was a different child than say her cousin who is about the same age. At family gatherings Maddie's cousin at 3 years old would run to the door to greet new guests, "Hello Mr So and So! How are you? May I take your coat? Would you like something to eat?"

While Maddie would hide behind me and beg to just go home. 

I wasn't willing to just go home though. Instead I learned to accept Maddie was not like her cousin. I let her avoid saying hello to new people until she was comfortable. I tried to arrive at parties before they got too crowded so she had time to acclimate before a lot of chaos ensued. And now? Maddie is just fine talking to adults, better than me sometimes. She knows how to talk herself through her anxiety at new situations and she may offer to take your coat and get you a snack. 

I bring this up because some of you admonished me for "forcing" Lucy to be around people when she clearly doesn't like it. Our rescue agency admonished me for not bringing her around people enough. 

Advice is inevitably contradictory and confusing. 

I'll grant you all that leaving Lucy outside the store for 5 minutes was a well intentioned move (treating her like a regular dog and having her out in public as often as possible) but ill-advised choice on my part.

This is something we'll avoid doing in the future. Okay? Let's all take a valium and calm down. 

Here are the decisions I've made about our dog. 

Lucy chewing things because she's anxious is something a lot of dog owners deal with. It's certainly not something to write off a dog because of. Lucy ate my earrings because I left them on a counter accidentally. She's eaten my underwear because I can't seem to force myself to by a $50 lidded hamper for our dirty laundry. Dogs chew things, this is a fact about owning a dog, it's mostly on you to keep stuff they like to chew out of reach. 

Lucy having occasional rounds of insomnia...another thing that is annoying but not a deal breaker. It's something frustrating I chose to write about in a moment of feeling frustrated and overwhelmed but everyone can't sleep sometimes. We'll solve that problem a few ways, shutting our bedroom door is number one on that list. 

Ripping apart the lining of my sofa slipcover? Okay it's time to put a gate up on the kitchen doorway and leave her in there with her toys, her dog bed and the tv on and see what happens. 

The advice I've gotten up to now about Lucy's fear of strangers and people touching her too fast, is obviously not working. (Though I keep being told "You're doing okay! Just keep it up! It'll get better!")

So I've called another trainer in to walk around town with us and see if another approach can help. 

Here's where the deal breaker comes in. 

I was admonished yesterday for forcing my dog to walk around a city! With people! Around! I even got an email helpfully suggesting I walk my dog in a circle around my (tiny) back yard. But wait it wasn't a "suggestion" it was a demand because if I think that's not okay? Then I SHOULDN'T EVEN OWN A DOG.

I learned to accept the limits of Maddie's personality. Our niece was also the kind of kid who would see the high school mascot at a football game and run to dance with it! She had a carefree happy spirit.

Maddie, was terrified of the high school mascot and screamed until we removed her from the scene. In that moment I remember thinking, "Why can't she just relax! And have fun!" She just couldn't. We still went to these events but I didn't expect her to enjoy these things with the same joy as other kids. 

I have accepted, accepted very early on that Lucy is not the kind of dog that's particularly happy to see anyone but our immediate family. Other people, she accepts eventually, but please don't get in her face because she doesn't like it. We have kids over and she'll play with them and eventually sit with them but she's slow to warm up. During parties she walks around sniffing everyone and may let you touch her but mostly it's better if you just let her be.

My friends have dogs who love to see you! They want to jump in your arms and stick their tongues down your throat and love you long time. Do I wish Lucy was like that? Carefree? Happy? Yes. 

Have I accepted that that's not her personality? That it's not how the cards panned out considering whatever her life was like before becoming part of our family? Yes. 

However, I'm not willing to accept that we can never encounter people while giving our dog exercise. I'm not willing to accept that I can't have people in my home. I'm actually not willing to accept that Lucy can't be a part of our lives in public places, especially since she doesn't like to be apart from us either. 

We are an active family and we want, maybe even need, a dog that can experience a lot of life with us. I'm willing to adjust my expectations to a degree but the bottom line is if Lucy can't learn to be tolerant of strangers on the street looking at her and attempting to touch her (with me stopping them), we can't stay together. 

That is heartbreaking to write. Lucy is at the top quarter of my list of favorite things. The best decision I've made in a lot of years was to get a dog. And I'm pretty happy we ended up with Lucy. 

But....

But it's not fair to either of us if she isn't the kind of dog who can live in a city, who can live with an active and social family. 

Logan keeps reminding me not to get ahead of myself. That we have another trainer/behaviorist coming. That we haven't talked to our vet about this particular issue. That we haven't gone back to the rescue agency and asked their behaviorist to evaluate her. 

We still have steps to take before EUTHANIZING the dog (guys, seriously?) or giving her back. 

Now half of you are nodding saying "I totally get it." and the other half of you are heating your pitchforks ready to tell me what a terrible person I am for not doing WHATEVER it takes to live with Lucy as she is.

For that reason the comments are not opening and if you want to send me an email? Full Disclosure: I may get a little bristly in return. 

Your call. 

But thank you for making me think about my limits and my plan for Lucy a little more deeply. I appreciate it and I hope we can find a way to help Lucy live within our lives. 

Would like to gently nibble on your face.

[*Edited]

I'm at a bad place with Lucy, our dog. 

It's not so much the sudden run on destroying various things that belong to me. Today my Feisty Elle earrings I always get compliments on and make me feel like my boring black wardrobe isn't that boring. Yesterday she ate the inner lining of the sofa slipcover. Oh and that big bag of candy she pulled off the table. Not to mention the hundreds of dollars in bras and underwear she's devoured.

No that stuff feels like "normal" dog behavior and when she moves out, I'll just take the damages out of her security deposit. No big deal. 

I'm reaching capacity with Lucy in a couple of ways. She's had a few nights with insomnia. She's up, she's down, she's up the stairs, she's down the stairs. On the bed, off the bed. Now she's itching.Now she's licking. She just can't seem to get comfortable. Oh, now she has to go to the bathroom. At 3 o'clock in the morning for the love of hell. I feed her her last meal by 5pm, take her water away at 6pm. I want to ignore her insistence that she has to go out because I don't want to let my dog out at 3 in the morning but then we wake up to a present in the dining room. 

I am not good at Nighttime Parenting. The entire reason I didn't have the third baby I always thought I'd have was because of the requirement to parent in the night. I still am no good at it.

Also not my favorite thing. 

Lucy wants to eat your face off. 

When people come over, she barks and barks and looks terrified and that makes her aggressive. It takes 20 minutes or so and then she'll let our guests touch her. I am mostly okay with this. Do I wish Lucy was her sweet self with everyone? Yes. Can I accept that I'm destined to have Slow To Warm Up Beings around me? Yes.

The problem is out in public she growls and lunges at people. At this point it's not just the people who reach out to touch her (before asking if it's okay), though she does that too. 

If you look at her too long, she growls and lunges. The problem is she's watching you to make sure you don't look at her and she has the cutest face and it draws people in so they think, "Oh this sweet dog wants me to touch her." GRRRRRRR LUNGE

It's not just embarrassing, though it is embarrassing. It's also dangerous. 

We live downtown, we see a lot of people. I try to avoid people. I watch to make sure I catch people before they reach out. I bought a halty hoping it would look a little like a muzzle and would deter people from wanting to touch her. 

So far it hasn't worked. She's growled and/or lunged at people who look at her, people who try to touch her, people who look like they're coming too close.

Yesterday I tied her up outside the card shop while I ran in and grabbed two birthday cards for friends. I was inside for five minutes, I tied her off the sidewalk, behind a bench. And as I walked out of the store a couple of women walking by, said, "Oh!!! Hello cute face!" and started over to touch her. 

......and that ended exactly as you'd imagine.

One of the women screamed and generally freaked the fuck out. (She seemed a little tipsy to me). I apologized and said, "You really shouldn't touch dogs without asking first. She isn't friendly even though she looks like it."

But there was no talking to her, she walked away laughing and terrified all at once. 

Our trainer has focused on treating good behavior and helping Lucy to avoid situations that make her feel afraid. But I'm finding it next to impossible to get her enough exercise (at least two walks a day) within our daily lives while avoiding people and the treats really don't seem to do anything.

All along I've been happy to have saved an older rescue dog. Today? When she lunged at yet another person passing by us on our walk, I had that horrible feeling in my stomach that I've made a bad decision. That we should have gotten a puppy and gone through all the difficult things that come with raising a puppy. 

Because I feel capable of dealing with a dog that chews my underwear, eats my favorite earrings and rips my sofa slipcover. I don't have a clue what I'm doing with this dog I'm afraid is a ticking time bomb.

I don't understand why she can't be the sweet dog I know more of the time.

[Lucy is 15 months old. She was crate trained until she was a year old. We stopped putting her in the crate because whenever we left her, (for 10 minutes or a couple hours) she would pee in the crate and then sit in it. The urine on her skin was irritating it and it was irritating me to have to bathe her 2-3 times a day whenever I left the house without her. The crate is not the answer, unfortunately.

Lucy also runs with Logan once a week or so. Runs next to me on my bike every few days. Gets 2-3 walks a day about half a mile each. Goes to daycare 2-4 times a month. Goes to the dog park.

We live in a downtown area with people everywhere. We avoid people when we can but I also like to avoid leaving her alone so I also bring her out with me when I can. Which the trainer and the rescue agency recommends, bringing her with me so she gets out and sees people.

I think your suggestions are wonderful, though perhaps not totally educated. I also should have known that the righteous indignation of child rearing would come barreling out when problems with a dog come up. Everyone knows *exactly* what to do, that you are doing it wrong and if only you'd listen to them your problem would be solved. Man Internet, I wish you knew all the answers all the time.]

Nothing says "I'm sorry" like calling an ambulance.

This summer I've started riding my bike to pick up the car from Logan's office. I attach Lucy to the side and off we go for a leisurely 1.5 mile ride up to the office where I load my bike into the car, drive home and start the day with the kids. 

It's been a pleasant way to start the day and make sure Lucy is tired out and stays out of trouble, mostly. She's become obsessed with my unmentionables and this is a distressing, and expensive, turn of events. It feels a little Single White Female. 

We like to drop our rent check at our landlord's house. I know there are things called stamps and a little service called the US Post Office but we choose not to use it because THAT'S A SOCIALIST ESTABLISHMENT and we love our country. 

I didn't really need the car that day, so Lucy and I were going to skip our bike ride and just go for a walk. Instead I decided to ride my bike with Lucy over to the landlord's house to drop off our check. 

I'm pretty careful about my bike routes. I avoid traffic and ride on the sidewalk. I go at a pretty slow pace, not much faster than a slow jog so I can watch for danger and/or other dogs. My friends often ask me to go out for rides with them and I have to decline, my bike is old, has no gears, it's pretty heavy and it goes slow. (I just untyped a joke about it being "Just like me!" it was a little Joy Behar.)

Getting to the landlords house involved a small amount of danger on a route not many pedestrians frequent. I stayed off the main road until I couldn't avoid it any more. 

All was well for about 40 feet.

I came up to the exit of a gym came to almost a complete stop because a woman had stopped at the stop sign waiting to exit when traffic cleared. She looked at me, or I thought she did because she, you know, looked at me. I started to go because pedestrians have the right of way. They count as "traffic" actually.

As soon as I started to go she did too. I yelled, "HEY HEY NO NO NO" and kicked at her (very nice Mercedes) with my foot trying to get her to stop. 

It's a surreal feeling being knocked off your bike with a car. 

I'm not mad at that lady for hitting me with her car, for coming way too close to injuring me and my dog, for being careless in a way that would impact a whole lot of people in my life. No, I know that's a risk when you ride a bike in a region known as "The Motor City".

What I'm mad about is how she treated me after she knocked me into the middle of a very busy road, breaking my bike and crushing my skittish and insecure dog underneath it...with her car.

She got out of her car right away and started yelling at me not to move. I had landed on my hands and was sitting upright, Lucy was struggling to get out from under the weight of me and the bike. I tried to lift my body up so Lucy could get out from under the bike. 

And the woman kept telling me "DON'T MOVE! DON'T MOVE!"

So I thought, Okay, I must be bleeding somewhere I don't see because she is freaking out. Remember I was moving from a stop and so was she. In essence I fell off my bike...because of a car...but still. So I touch my head look at my arms, at my legs....nothing. But she keeps yelling at me not to move. 

I finally say, "Okay but I really need to get my dog out from under my bike and make sure she's okay."

She tries to get Lucy detached from the leash but can't figure out how it works and as I try to help her she keeps saying, "DON'T MOVE I DON'T WANT YOU TO MOVE!!!!"

...okay...but I'm sitting here in the middle of a busy road...are you trying to finish us off? 

We get Lucy detached and as I try to touch her she jumps away from me, scared, but now I'm convinced she's hurt, a broken leg? Rib? And I know she's "just a dog" and all those people watching this scene probably thought me totally nuts. But the adrenaline kicked in and I started to cry and panic a little. 

But this lady doesn't want me to move. I'm sitting in the road and she asks if I want an ambulance. I don't need an ambulance, I tell her, but I need to make sure my dog is okay. Again she tells me not to move. 

Soon the bystanders start to ask if I need help to move out of the road. I say, "No, but this woman is terrified of me moving." 

She starts to tell everyone standing around, "I offered her an ambulance...she doesn't want one." 

Over and over and over and over. As though by saying this it doesn't matter that she just knocked me off my bike with her car. She's absolved! Have a nice day! 

Never once does she ask if I'm okay. Never once did she say "I'm sorry." 

Her concern seems to begin and end with me laying in the road not moving and whether or not she offered to call an ambulance. Calling an ambulance is very difficult you realize, she really put herself out there.

Suddenly it occurs to me, Lady? You aren't in charge of me. So I move to the sidewalk and get Lucy untangled from her harness and quickly realize she's okay probably just shaken up like me. 

Having never been hit by a car I don't really know what to do next. And no one is doing anything but standing there looking at me. Someone from the gym has come out to see what's happened and she also stands there looking at me as I sit on the ground, sort of crying.

Over and over and over the woman keeps saying, "Well I offered to call her an ambulance."

I want to punch her in the mouth at this point. So I call Logan at his office hoping to get someone to this scene who knows what to do. I'm calling his phones and, as usual, he doesn't answer. I joke that Logan is seretly the janitor at his office since he's NEVER at his desk when I call. I call a coworker's number...but he doesn't answer either. 

I say to the Gym lady and the Don't Move Lady, "Should we call the police?"

But they both say no, no...you'll just need to file a report at the station....

And you know? What the holy Hell Melissa? YOU DON'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO THESE WOMEN. I don't know why I did. Weak or easily bossed around are not words anyone in my life would use to describe me. If anything you'd probably hear "A little hot under the collar" "Doesn't take shit." "Can be kind of a bitch."

And yet, I didn't call the police. 

I'm still on the phone and the whole time there's a running commentary from Don't Move Lady about how she offered to call an ambulance. She offered! HOLY HELL SHE OFFERED!!!!

Finally, the anger is rising in my voice and I say, "Look, I appreciate that you're a little shaken up that you've hit me with your car."

She interrupts, "I know you're angry with me."

I say, "I'm not angry because you hit me and my dog with your car. I'm angry because you won't stop talking about how you offered to call an ambulance. I don't need an ambulance it's great that you offered to call one but I don't need one. What i need right now is to know what I'm supposed to do now. I could use some help and you telling me you offered to call me an ambulance is not helping."

She stares at me, not saying anything so I say, "What would help me now is if you left. Leave me your name and number and just go."

She turns to Gym Lady and says, 'Okay, I'll go but I want you to be my witness that I OFFERED TO CALL HER AN AMBULANCE."

I don't need an ambulance. I need someone to fix my bike, I need someone to find my husband, I need a way to get home, I need someone to tell me my dog isn't bleeding internally.

We exchange names and numbers and she leaves.

I call the front desk at Logan's office and send someone to the meeting rooms to locate him. To keep the receptionist from being annoyed I may have told her I'd been hit by a car and needed to find my husband. Which was in essence true but made it sound like I'd been sprung across a car like a rag doll. 

Additionally Logan's a robot, if you want him to react you better make it sound good. You never know he may have a story about how he was hit by a car and got right back up and ran a marathon. 

So I get home, I call the vet, Lucy's fine. She spends a lot of the day hiding under the couch like she does when the kids argue. 

I'm fine too, just a little sore. The day after the bruises start to appear but even those aren't that bad. The thing that surprised me is how sore my biceps were. 

I'm sure it was from the adrenaline I felt through my body after it all happened. But I like to think it was from me resisting the very strong urge to punch Don't Move Lady.

Later in the day I file a police report, Logan calls Don't Move to make sure she gave me a real number. She doesn't answer. I trace her address via White Pages reverse phone look up. The listing has a different name attached to it. I'm concerned. 

Gym Lady calls to see how we're doing. I tell her we're fine, just a little sore. 

Nothing from Don't Move. 

I leave her another message giving her my police report number, asking her to verify her address and letting her know that my bike repair guy is seeing if he can repair my vintage bike. Oh, and by the way Lucy and I are okay. 

Nothing from Don't Move.

I leave another message letting her know that if I don't hear from her I'll have to approach this situation as a Hit and Run because I have no idea if this is her number. Please let me know if you have received these messages. 

She finally calls back and leaves a message. Telling me that she got our messages, to let her know what the bike repair shop says. And that she's glad everyone is okay.

If you ever hit someone with your car, promise me you'll say "I'm sorry"...a bunch of times. And treat the person you've hit with kindness. It's possible I could have sued her, I assume that's why she was so awful in the aftermath of the scene. 

Here's the thing, no one has ever been sued more for being kind.

Less Navel Gazing, More Doing.

It's been difficult to write on this website. 

I've been doing a lot of things, feeling a lot of things and dealing with a bunch of things that I either can't write about or I really shouldn't write about or I don't want to write about or that no one wants to hear about. 

So let's start with the things you don't want to hear about: Gary the cat is still sick. Aside from urinating in the house he is also throwing up more than I think is normal. My dog is adorable but a lunatic. She stares at people with her head cocked to the side and her ears perked up, but if you look back or make any move like you may touch her she growls and lunges. So, I'm dealing with a ticking time bomb. It's times like this I wish we'd gotten a puppy we could have socialized the hell out of because this is really awful. For everyone. 

I've been spending a lot of time working on my resume and collecting writing samples. It feels good to look back at the last five years and have something to show for it. I've also been applying for a few positions which is thrilling and terrifying. I'm in the middle of a crossroads of sorts. Luckily Logan works with a great lady, Jackie Trepanier, who's leaving her job to start her own business as a Career Coach.

Little did she know when we sat down for our first meeting I would start things off with a few barely held back tears. I feel a little lost is what I said in a few longer strings of words. Typically I'd explain to you how lost I am, why I feel that way, what I think my options are, but I really shouldn't. Or rather I don't want to, not yet anyway. 

The relationships in my life are also weighing on my mind heavily. I can't believe how difficult I find relationships to navigate. It makes me wonder how I've managed to stay in a relationship and in love with Logan for the last 17 years. Or rather, how he's been able to stay married and in love with me. 

Sometimes I think we're too open with each other, that maybe saying everything you think and feel is too hard to make a marriage work. But then we find our way through a rough patch and I think the only way we do that is to say what's going on. 

But it doesn't seem like that works with most other relationships and so I'm kind of lost in that realm of my life as well. 

Here's something that will throw you for a loop! You know, more than my continued navel gazing introspection. The last day of school is Friday and I am....excited about it! 

I realize I will be like all the other parents in the world about 2-3 weeks from now wishing we had year round school with several 2-3 week vacations scattered throughout the year. But for now, I'm looking forward to doing more stuff with the kids and having a more structured routine. I've been struggling with my lack of time management skills, I'm hoping having to entertain the kids will put some focus back in my daily routine.

And hopefully stop me from staring down at my toes wondering how I'm going to do this whole thing differently.

Very Important Mowing

I'm riding my bike home from taking Max to school. The stupid bike is being all squeaky & annoying as it tends to get after I do something crazy, like use the brake. 

I've got Lucy with me on the Walky Dog (with a harness, thanks to The Dog Outdoors, thanks guys!) Things are pretty uneventful, the ride to school is mostly downhill so that's nice. There are a few dogs at school so I kind of avoid them as best I can because Lucy is still stupidly leash aggressive toward other dogs. Get her off leash and she's your dog's new best friend. On the leash? My dog is a total asshole. 

We come across a man mowing his lawn with a push mower. Lucy, it turns out, is terrified of those kind of mowers. THEY'RE EARTH FRIENDLY and Lucy doesn't roll like that. It's good old oil or nothing.

She freaks out, stops moving and we're at a standstill right by the mowing man. She's wrapped herself behind the bike to get away from that TERRIFYING mower. 

I kind of laugh, tell the man "Oops! I guess she's afraid of push mowers...ha ha ha."

Nothing, not a smile, not a shrug, not a middle finger pointed in my general direction. 
A blank stare. Maybe he was deaf. 

I try to untangle her from the bike so I can move the bike forward away from the HORRIFYING push mower. Lucy's struggling with moving to the correct side of the bike because it's closer to the DEMONIC push mower. 

So I have to pick up my bike and try walking forward away from the mower. 

This is a less than one minute process. But the man with the HAIR RAISING push mower is in a big hurry so he keeps pushing his stupid mower right next to us. Making Lucy try to get away from it. Making me sort of stuck there. 

Sometimes I just don't get people. 

On the bright side people ask me pretty often if I'm afraid of falling off the bike if Lucy gets scared or sees another dog. I'm happy to say I've never fallen off the bike or been afraid of falling off the bike even when we see another dog or something as awful as a push mower. 

Oh, Lucy.

Ghost of a Dog.

This is Lucy asking why in a free world she isn't allowed to go with me....everywhere.

So two weeks ago I was at the vet concerned about Lucy and her urine. The next week I was at the vet with Gary who was peeing blood on Maddie's bed. This seems...like a pretty good indication your cat wants you to know he doesn't feel good.

He seemed very sick. Very sick. I have a couple of friends with cats who peed blood, ended up with crystals in their urine, ended up with a blockage. Ended up with surgery, a $2000 vet bill and a cat who died anyway.

The animal rescue where we got Lucy would frown and legally remove my dog from my home if they knew this but...there's no way I can spend $2000 on Gary's bladder. So as we know, I harnessed the power of worry into a giant ball of sobbing incoherence on the phone with the vet. When I arrived, Gary covered in urine, I was convinced he was going to die. 

Gary dying would be undeniably sad. He is Maddie's best friend and I'm pretty fond of him too. I mean he's no Lucy but still I love his easy going personality. But the thing that was giving me hives and "ugly cry" was the thought of having to tell the vet, "I can't spend my money on this."

Luckily, or maybe unluckily, Gary did not have a blockage. So I handed over all my money, and took my urine soaked cat home to convalesce in the bathroom. I've spent the 7 days since then shoving a syringe in Gary's throat a few times a day. 

He isn't entirely pleased by this and could also use a nail trim so I'm a human scratching post. 

I'm not exactly known for my positive attitude and this last few weeks is no exception. The lucky thing is I'm having a really great week this week because I'm almost done nursing a cat back to health and (so far) this week there has been no animal urine in my general vicinity. 

It's nice when your week is considered good because nothing's peeing on you. Here's to the best week ever!

The Dog Park!

We took Lucy to the Dog Park tonight. I'll admit I've been known to go to dog related events even when I didn't have a dog simply because watching dogs have SO MUCH FUN makes it impossible to remain unhappy. I think everyone should just sit around watching dogs having fun at least for the rest of the month of April. 

Luckily now I do have a dog so on a Monday night I can take my dog to the dog park. At the dog park I can watch her run around and have a great time sniffing butts. Without a dog that would be deemed, you know, a little odd. Now I can watch dogs sniffing each other's butts all I want. 

No really ALL I want.

But the butt sniffing at the dog park isn't really the part I love.

It's not even really the chasing either. Although she's pretty agile to watch.

And it's not watching Lucy make new friends, tentatively.

Sometimes, really tentatively. 

It's not even watching Lucy run around with my little boy, though that's a pretty lovable part.

No, the best part is watching my dog so happy. 

Watching her running around the park with so much joy makes me think of the first time I pushed my kids on the swings, their shrieks of laughter and pure joy at this new experience. 

Lucy at the dog park is pure joy. I'm glad I had kids first because if I hadn't had kids people might say, "Oh dogs are nothing, just wait until you have kids."

It's true raising a pup is a lot less complicated than raising kids. Lucy can grow up and still be a good being without ever flossing her teeth. Still, it's fun to relive those intense moments of simple happiness again with our dog. Without another college education to pay for. 

The other really great thing about the dog park? 

Exhaustion.

This post is part of our It’s Good To Give series, which is sponsored by Milk-Bone.  Check out their Canine Assistants program, which helps people with disabilities and get involved by sharing photos of your own dog on the Milk-Bone Flickr stream.

Bike Rides With Lucy

It's been pretty dog heavy around here recently. Well, if we're being honest it's been a pretty dog-heavy year. 

Lucy is getting a lot more comfortable with us. She's acting like a puppy a lot more often and is absolutely dying to wrestle with Socks the cat. I'm constantly looking for ways to wear her out because I sort of want to kill her if she isn't worn out. 

I mean I still love her, just look at her, but she gets pretty annoying when she's bored.

Logan has taken her out for 1 or 2 runs, apparently his runs are very specialized and can't include dogs for the most part. However, she loves running. I like to think of half our walks as runs without the actual running. Her whole body strains to go faster. 

I read about the Walky Dog bike leash and told Logan I'd get it for him to put on his bike. That way he could incorporate the dog into his hobby! He took to this idea like he took to the idea of getting a bike trailer or a jogging stroller so the kids could join him while he pursued his hobby. Logan's hobbies though are very important however so he poo-pooed my idea.

Taking Lucy for 3-4 walks a day is you know nice but not great for time management and since I'm never going to be a runner I decided to get the bike leash for myself. I asked Twitter if they had any feedback about this particular gadget and no one did. But Scott from The Dog Outdoors chimed in offering to send us one to try.

Internet, you're pretty okay. Even though sometimes you call me a fat drunk who doesn't love my kids. Maybe you were just having your period.

The installation process was super simple, just a doo-hickey around the bike seat pole that allows the straight bar to be easily attached and removed as needed. Inside that bar are springs which absorb any pulling the dog may do. 

Lucy, God love her, believes she would like to eat your dog's face when she is on a leash. Once off a leash she just wants to play. So when we see a dog and she's on a leash she pulls pretty hard. She's only 40 pounds so it's not too difficult to control. 

However, if I was holding a leash and trying to balance on a bike I would easily be pulled over. The springs absorb the pulling a great deal and also act as a self corrector. 

I also like it because the bar is totally neutral. I'm constantly being told that my fear is being transferred through the leash because I'm afraid Lucy is going to eat another dog's face off. But she reacts exactly the same to other dogs with the emotionally neutral Walky Dog leash as she does with my anxious leash. 

The only time we had any trouble with the Walky Dog was when Logan tried to take a picture. You can see how troubling that is for Lucy above. She sort of jerked backwards and yanked the (not attached tightly enough) bar backwards throwing herself on the ground behind the wheel. So that was nice. Cameras are TERRIFYING.

Lucy is a lot like me in many ways. She's slow to warm up around people, doesn't like cameras, she doesn't particularly like being handled by strangers, and she hates the phone. However, she likes running and no matter how fast I go I can't seem to wear her out. Running as fast as you can for an extended period of time is against my Personal Mission Statement (except if something predatory is chasing you).

I'm so happy to help her get some of her energy out while not having to take up running. (Something I briefly debated.)

Next up, Dog Park!

Thank you Scott and The Dog Outdoors for our new Dog Wearer-Outer!

Warm, Fuzzy & Always Right.

When I put my mind to something, it usually gets done.

For example a few years ago I said to Logan, "This house has sucked our will to live long enough. We are going to sell it."

Oh he balked at the idea, "There's too much work to do!" "The market is terrible! Nothing's selling!"

But I ripped wall paper off walls, burning my hands in the process, I peed in a port-a-john on the driveway and showered at the Y, I painted miles and miles of trim.......and in the end we sold the house.

I've wanted a dog for a long time, at least as long as Maddie has, but I knew dogs were a lot of work so I would sort of throw the idea around in my head and then remember that I could barely handle the two kids I have.

Except finally this winter the idea came into my head and I realized everything sort of fit. It was time to get a dog.

The only problem was Logan.

Logan's reasons for not getting a dog at this time were as follows:

1) The cost.
2) The cats might not like a dog.
3) It will be hard.
4) He is a mean, cold person who is dead inside*

*I made that one up.

What Logan forgot though is how persuasive I am once I get a bee in my bonnet. So over the next seven days I waged a campaign to break down his defenses in regards to a dog.

My friend Alice found Lucy (then Princess Mia) on Petfinder.com when I threatened to just come and take her dog Charlie.

Finding Princess Mia upped my passionate pursuit of a dog for our family. She kind of caught my attention quickly. I can't explain exactly why, other than I am an obsessive person and she just looked like the kind of dog I could picture in our lives.

I systematically broke down each of Logan's points for not getting a dog.

We promised Maddie she would have a dog at some point in her childhood. We didn't say, "But only if it's not hard."

The cats were an unknown of course and I have to tell you cats who urinate in the house are a deal breaker for me so if they freaked, I knew I'd have trouble. I researched introducing dogs to resident cats and shared numerous links with Logan who, I suspect, didn't read a single word.

As for the cost of dog ownership, I admitted our budget is often quite slim with little wiggle room. However just the month before Logan's company gave back the 10% pay cut he'd gotten about a year earlier. Not that a dog costs 10% of our income to own, but I'd had getting the housekeepers back in our lives at the top of my ToDo list once we got our pay back. I agreed, to get a dog, I would forgo the housekeepers. I figured dogs can help clean. So far, this hasn't been the case.

Things got a little tense at certain points in the dog convincing process, mostly because I told the kids I was thinking it was time to get a dog and this resulted in Logan feeling "ganged up on".

To this point I countered, "Well hop on board Team Dog!"
(He wasn't amused.)

By that weekend Logan had agreed to visit Princess Mia/Lucy at an adoption event. I thought he'd melt at the sight of her, but he didn't. He was lukewarm at best.

However, he did agree to take her on for a "trial run" for a couple of weeks.

Two weeks later we adopted her officially and he still "Didn't Want A Dog"
Here he is not wanting the crap out of that dog:

(He is not breastfeeding the dog, but man, it looks like it.)

We've had Lucy for just over two months now and we're all pretty enamored with her. She's the perfect dog for our family at the perfect time.

The other day Logan said, while holding Lucy in his arms like a baby, "How did you know this was the right dog for us?"

And I said, "Well, it's just that I'm always right."

This post is part of our It’s Good To Give series, which is sponsored by Milk-Bone.  Check out their Canine Assistants program, which helps people with disabilities and get involved by sharing photos of your own dog on the Milk-Bone Flickr stream.

If I had to change her diaper I'd probably be less smitten too.

Life's been a little slow around here. Our dog continues to rock our world in the best way causing Mr "Didn't Want A Dog" to say over the weekend, "I'm really glad we have a dog."

I wonder when he'll learn I'm always right. 

The other night a few friends gathered to celebrate one girl's birthday. Her family got a puppy at Christmas and things are intense at their house. Their dog is the happy fun loving kind who loves everything especially the cats and playing chase when it's time to get in her crate. Their pup is super cute and also exhausting.

My friend is feeling pretty worn out by the dog, like she's raising a baby.

I don't know if you know this but I find raising kids to be pretty hard. I never hesitated especially when they were young to complain about the parts I found particularly challenging. The bickering, the non-stop talking, the constipation, public tantrums, and the simple task of entertaining two totally dependent people 8-10 hours a day...

So I was surprised while sharing dog stories with my friends to say, "You know, it's really going great. I can't complain."

This is surprising because I can always complain.

I did realize the other day, as I tried not to trip over Lucy, my constant shadow. 

I have a feeling if Lucy could talk, I'd probably have something to complain about.

My dog has a hug phobia.

Yesterday Logan and I took the dog on her afternoon walk into town and decided to grab a coffee while we were out. Logan went inside and I sat on a bench outside with Lucy.

Lucy likes walks that keep moving. She doesn't like to stop and when you do she shakes because she is scared. We make her sit every time we have to stop and this seems to help her feel a little more secure, knowing that she has to sit to please us. 

While she sits she watches for people who may want to look at her cute face and maybe, God forbid, pet her. She may also be concerned about their credit card debt, their emotional stability, whether or not they're saving for retirement. A lot of worries are going on in Lucy's mind. 

Most of the time people walk by and say "Hello cute puppy!" They smile and continue on their way. Other times they ask if they can pet my dog and I politely tell them, 'She's a rescue, so it's better if you let her come to you and pet her under her jaw rather than on top of her head."

Other times people barge right up sticking their hands in her face to try and pet her. The problem is Lucy would rather you keep your damn hands to yourself. 

Yesterday while I sat outside the coffee shop a woman came walking up, she was talking to her friend so I assumed they would be one of the "Hello cute pup!" people and keep right on walking. But instead she came right up and stuck her hand in Lucy's face.

Lucy leaped backwards making a terrible snarling and growling sound. Her fur was all upright from the top of her neck all the way down to her tail. I remained calm, knowing exactly what was going on. She doesn't like strangers sticking their hands in her face and she doesn't like when they skip from seeing if she's interested in sniffing them straight to patting her on top of her head knowing that that's how dogs attack each other, going for the neck.

I also realized she was not being aggressive, simply frightened because she didn't lunge forward but jumped back.

The woman who attempted to pet my dog looked, how to put this, horrified. She had a terrible look of contempt on her face and looked to me as though my dog had tried to attack her. I tried to be polite about it saying, "She's a rescue pup and we're still training her." But what I should have said is, "The first rule of meeting strange dogs is you ask before you touch. You ask me and you also ask the dog. If you don't then shame on you."

Another minor peeve. Please don't say, 'Is your dog friendly?' Because what do I say to that? 

"No my dog is socially awkward and a little bit rude. She may eat your face off and she also never sends thank you notes! She's dreadful." 

Lucy is friendly, but she's scared of you. Instead ask, "Can I pet your dog?" Then I can say, "She's a rescue and we're still working on getting her comfortable. It's better if you see if she wants to come to you."

Bam! That easy.

So Touchy Feely Lady walked into the coffee shop with her look of horror glued to her face. When she came back out I was still waiting for Logan and she said to me, "I'm sure she'll be pleasant some day."

Which made me want to reply, "Too bad we can't train you to be pleasant! Have a lovely day you witch."

I'm reaching the point of frustration with Lucy. I know it's normal and I know I just have to keep working with her, building her confidence, taking a training class and giving her time. But I don't think it would be fair to all of you for me to leave out the less than pleasant parts of raising this dog.

These are the parts of the responsibility that made me wait 12 years to get a dog. And here's the standard disclaimer I use when I talk about how frustrating motherhood is. I love my kids, LOVE them. Can't get enough of them. Want to throw myself in front of a bus for them, kill anyone who would hurt them, kiss them until they call me a freak. I love them. But! The day to day work of raising them to be reasonably functioning members of society, if not really successful and likable adults is frustrating at times.

For me, this is simply a reality, nothing to get upset about. Nothing to berate myself over. I just find it frustrating and I do it anyway. Not every emotion I have is acted on.

I'm frustrated by the process of helping Lucy become the best dog she can be but it certainly doesn't require action. I am feeling it and it will pass and I'll keep trying to find the best thing for her and for us.

Lucy Versus Peanut Butter

On Thursday I drove a baggie of poo around in my car for a little while. It wasn't mine, it was Lucy's. Another requirement of the Rescue Group, aside from having my dog's name tattooed on my forehead, was to have a stool sample tested within 7 days of adoption.

Turns out Lucy has Giardia, a pretty common parasite in rescue dogs. I'm actually thankful she has it because perhaps this means that when I take her out to "Go Potty!" I won't pass out from the stench.

I decided to use peanut butter on a spoon to give Lucy her medicine, since I'm not particularly wild about jamming her jaw open and forcing a pill down her throat. I realize this means she'll never get into an ivy league school but that's just the way it goes.

Community college is good for a lot of people too. Our community college has a really nice paralegal program.

The thing about peanut butter and dogs is that it's really very funny.

I know it's important to give dogs their dignity. That's why I'm not putting a pair of Wonder Woman Underoos on her.

Yet.

It's just that it was so funny watching her get all that peanut butter out of her mouth.

I think this should be her driver's license picture.

This is Lucy looking a little troubled about eating all the peanut butter.
But maybe you have more treats?

Her Royal Highness Princess Lucy

We just adopted a dog. I feel like I just adopted the Queen of England.

Every time I had to interact with the people from this rescue group they made me not only feel like a criminal hell bent on collecting dogs for my dog fighting/dog meat supplier ring. They also made me feel like a bumbling moron for doing seemingly innocuous things like buying Science Diet Puppy Food and using a retractable leash.

We made it through the first part of the adoption process (after calling several times to get our home inspection and prove that we were truly serious about welcoming a dog into our lives) and began fostering her for a one week trial just to be sure our cats wouldn't hate the dog so much they started spraying our closets with urine.

After the one week trial we were ready to sign the papers and go forward with our adoption but because Logan was out of town and unable to sign the LEGALLY BINDING (I was reminded of this many times....I think I signed a paper offering up my first born if I do anything stupid like USE A RETRACTABLE LEASH) contract we had to wait another week.

But oh boy that week they found out my indoor cats were behind on their rabies shots and couldn't in good conscience give me a dog knowing about my "neglectful nature". So I took the cats in and had them vaccinated.

When I came by to have our dog's stitches removed one of the adoption managers exclaimed, 'Are you feeding her!?"

Oh I have to FEED the dog!?

In the week before we signed the papers the name we were planning to give our dog was critiqued, "Well that's a nice name but so popular! Oh it's really very popular! It's not very unique." (Her given name was Princess....which is so unique?) and the vet we use was met with a hesitant "hmmm".

when we went for the final signing of the adoption contract I had collected all the health records for the cats to prove I was a fit pet parent and a letter from our landlord declaring that he didn't give a flying fig if we got a dog. And they didn't want any of those papers, but in case I forgot, Lucy is a VERY COMMON NAME.

Then all the papers were signed and I agreed to a lot of things I never thought I would agree to, like if my vet and I decide my dog has inoperable brain cancer I have to contact the agency and have approval to put her out of her misery, but I loved this dog and they could have taken part time custody of my kids and I may have still signed on the dotted line. I think they even baptized Lucy as a Catholic and I was powerless.

When we left they took our picture with Lucy, The Commonly Named Dog, and one of the agency leaders said choking up, "Do you think you'll bring her back to see us when we're at adoption fairs near your home?"

And I wanted to cry.

I forgave everything they did because they loved our pup and honestly she's probably as good a dog as she is because of their strict regulations and the excellent care and socializing her foster parents gave her even though she was abandoned.

So yeah I'll bring her back to see them and I'll send them pictures of her laying in front of the fire on her new dog bed and I'll probably give the dog a kidney if she needs it and take her to mass for Ash Wednesday just like that adoption contract specified.

I thought we were getting a dog because Maddie really wanted one.

It turns out I really needed a dog.