Meditation
For several months now I've been throwing myself a big old pity party because of this high-maintenance diva dog I'm saddled with.
It's not just the five thousand American dollars I've shelled out to keep his black ass in the pink, but:
Every pillow I owned, chewed. Some home made.
He can't be walked on a fabric or leather leash, he spends the whole time biting it.
He learned to slip out of his collar and even the trainer says once they learn this they will always try it. So I have to use a special collar called a martingale, and not just any martingale but a martingale with a chain section (see point 2 above).
He sings. The commercials are cute, but I miss my Saturday afternoon operas more than I can say.
He eats everything that isn't nailed down, indoors and out, edible or not. The only thing I've seen him pass up is cigarettes. He eats leaves, bark, and berries off trees. Rocks. Don't even mention garbage. We live in the city and there is lots of garbage around.
He has an awful lot of energy. He's 18 months old now and I see lots of younger dogs who are WAY more calm than Vince and sometimes I wonder if he will ever slow down.
I didn't realize just how much I missed my music until I stuck some headphones in my receiver today, something I should have done a long time ago. Thank you M. Massenet. There's nothing like a little Meditation from Thais and a good bawl to make you count your blessings. This week alone, status updates from FB friends have included: the death of a mother, the word "oncology," and reference to ongoing depression that requires hospitalization. So I have a little black dog who is a bit of a scamp. So what. I'm really a lucky broad.
It's not just the five thousand American dollars I've shelled out to keep his black ass in the pink, but:
Every pillow I owned, chewed. Some home made.
He can't be walked on a fabric or leather leash, he spends the whole time biting it.
He learned to slip out of his collar and even the trainer says once they learn this they will always try it. So I have to use a special collar called a martingale, and not just any martingale but a martingale with a chain section (see point 2 above).
He sings. The commercials are cute, but I miss my Saturday afternoon operas more than I can say.
He eats everything that isn't nailed down, indoors and out, edible or not. The only thing I've seen him pass up is cigarettes. He eats leaves, bark, and berries off trees. Rocks. Don't even mention garbage. We live in the city and there is lots of garbage around.
He has an awful lot of energy. He's 18 months old now and I see lots of younger dogs who are WAY more calm than Vince and sometimes I wonder if he will ever slow down.
I didn't realize just how much I missed my music until I stuck some headphones in my receiver today, something I should have done a long time ago. Thank you M. Massenet. There's nothing like a little Meditation from Thais and a good bawl to make you count your blessings. This week alone, status updates from FB friends have included: the death of a mother, the word "oncology," and reference to ongoing depression that requires hospitalization. So I have a little black dog who is a bit of a scamp. So what. I'm really a lucky broad.