I Wish My Dog Spoke English

I know she understands when I say, "Good dog, good dog," and I give her plenty of those, because she really is a sweet little thing. And I'm pretty sure she knows "Sit" and "Stay" if there's a milk bone involved.

But it would be much more helpful to me if she understood a few other colloquialisms:
 
"I'm going to bed after this, so if you don't pee now, you won't be able to go again until the morning." 

"It's a litterbox, not a snack bar."  

"Your enthusiasm is flattering, but I'm only going to the washing machine.   I'll be back in 90 seconds."  

"Your enthusiasm is flattering, but I've only been gone 90 seconds, just like I said."  

"Get away from that rubbish barrel, please."  

"Have you never heard of toilet paper?"  (The cats could stand to learn that one, too, come to think of it.)

... and the related ...  

"OMFG, Zoet, not on the mouth!"

Dogproofing Fail

I remember the days when putting a cup on the coffee table got it safely out of reach. I remember scrambling to move stuff to the end table, because suddenly the coffee table no longer meant childproof. Then, to the kitchen table, or higher and higher on the stairs; or, God forbid, I'd have to put something away in order to ensure its safety.

If I wanted to have to childproof my home, I'd have had another baby, thankyouverymuch. Said baby wouldn't have stolen my leftover orange chicken, though, or eaten my Burt's Bees lip balm, container and all. Admittedly, the baby might have chewed through a rattle or two, and maybe an occasional bag of dog treats. But really, Zoet? Pipe insulation?

This is a straggler I just found under the couch.  I really hope this was an open can she found and thoughtfully cleaned for me, and not a can she opened herself.  Have I mentioned the dog only gets dry food?  The cats eat canned.  Miraculously, this treat did not require a followup visit to the vet.  But I predict this episode did not involve any learning, either (by either one of us.)

About the only pristine stuff in my house anymore: dog toys.  Man, they make that stuff to last!  The orange ball and the bone? Those came with Zoet in August.

Oops - gotta run. Duty calls ...

No Dog Yet, You Say?

I started wanting a dog when Tom was sick. I'm sure the pain is the same whether your spouse has brain cancer, or heart disease or any terminal illness (Tom considered his cancer "terminal" with the quotes, having read much about long-term survivors. Few though they were, they were not non-existent.), but brain cancer had already robbed me of my hard-working, cuttingly-sarcastic, animal-loving, handyman-project-doing, car-guy husband, and my sense of loneliness was all the more acute because Tom was alive, but no longer, well, Tom. A dog would love me, and keep me warm, and fill the hole in my heart that I shouldn't have had because I should have just been grateful my husband was there, sleeping right next to me in the bed every night, drinking his coffee and reading his paper every morning. But that emptiness in my heart continued to grow, and my desolation darkened. And that dog? I really just wanted a dog to love me. I wanted somebody to love me. And for God's sake, at least the damned dog wouldn't die of brain cancer.

Then, Tom died. I don't know how else to explain it. Tom died, and the loneliness that I felt finally at least felt normal. My husband was dead, my sons' father was gone, and that the loneliness was expected made it somehow more tolerable. Getting from today to tomorrow became easier after Tom died, as I found myself already partway through the process of grieving his loss. The desperate yearning for a dog slowly subsided, replaced by the quiet belief that there's a place in our family for a dog.

So there we were today, at the Northeast Animal Shelter:  the place Tom took me on our second date; one of his memorial charities; and the place where the sweetest little  Belgian Schipperke x picked us for her forever family. She came with the utterly unacceptable name Skippette, so we're down to business picking out a name. I think her name is supposed to be Zoetje, dutch for "little sweet one". Any dutch speaking readers out there? Please advise.

And say hello to the newest Gentile, Zoetje.