But you said 'Cookie'!!!

THIS IS A VERY CONFUSED DOG:

Zuul's 9-10 month span has been filled with milestone after milestone. Babbling, self feeding, crawling, tantrums and now climbing.

Of course, I realized I may have a problem early on when I'd say "let's got for a walk" to Zuul and the dog would jump and run to the door.

Oops.

But now I'm constantly breaking my dog's heart.

"Come to mama.... I was talking to Zuul, Ghost. Go lay down."
"Climb up! Come on, you can do it! .... NO, DOG! GET OFF THE COUCH/BED/ME!"
And the most heartbreaking sentence of all;
"Would you like a cookie?"  It's like psychological torture worthy of a lambasting from all the animal rights activist groups.

I guess I could be more specific and not actually say cookie, but, "would you like a banana flavoured rice rusk, Zuul?" doesn't have the same simplistic ring. I'm also sure "cookie" is easier to learn and say for a border-line toddler than "rice rusk" or "wagon wheel shaped treat".

I could also treat my dog like the older sibling she is and start being fair and making sure to give their treats at the same time like one would in a multi-child household.  However, that's just one more item I need to remember along with bibs, sippy cups, wet wipes, toys, baby... Never mind the amount of times I've almost handed the baby cat food instead of cereal the morning after a sleepless night. I know it's just a matter of time before I mindlessly give my daughter a beefy bone shaped biscuit.

Of course, Zuul and I could just get used to a big white dog leading by example. That's a nice spin on things, isn't it?

Sure beats saddest dog in the pacific west coast.

Boys in Cars

I’m walking the dog tonight, when a car full of young men pulls up and roll down the windows.

“Hey, cutie!”

Aw geeze, I think to myself. It’s been a while, and I’m in my dog-walking-in-the-rain-gear, but my make up was on nice, so, maybe? I don’t like it when guys do this, especially at night, but this might be my first genuine cat call, post baby.

“You out for a pee? Oh you are a pretty pup, aren’t you.”




You hear that?

That was the sound of my ego shattering.

Monday Confessional

Oops! I'm a day late.

I was out of washcloths and baby wipes after Zuul's lunch yesterday, so I called the dog over to help clean her up.

Sunday Confessional

Two days ago, we started our normal routine of getting up, nursing and getting ready to walk the dog.


I must of been bagged because, while I took great care to protect Zuul from the frigid morning, I completely forgot to strap her in safely in her stroller.

If you follow my blog, you know this is a BIG FUCKING DEAL because Subversive Dog can really throw her weight around, and has damn near toppled the stroller over before in her excitement. Luckily for Zuul and I, (not so much for puppy), she has been nursing a scraped up paw and, therefore, with a sad limp, a lot gentler with us all.

Still, feeling like an epic fail as a mom. The only thing making me feel like less of a failure (just a little) is the story an old family friend told me.

Her daughter, who’s a year or two older than me, was also raised by a German Shepherd and told me about the day she parked her then toddler outside of a boutique and tied the dog to it before heading in to shop. (I’ll let that absorb with you for a bit.)

She came out to find the dog had pulled her baby 3 blocks down the street. No harm to any party except maybe a life lesson in where not to tie the dog (or leave your children, cough cough).

For the record, this particular mom is most excellent and a good life long friend. The 70’s were just a very different parenting era. Very. 0_o