Last night, I decided to stay home rather than go to the Mariner’s game with Mark.  This was because:

a) I knew I was going to get whacked with cramps any minute

b) I really wanted to watch the debates, and

c) the Mariners suck so much that I always get in trouble for cheering on anyone who finally hits a freaking ball  — no matter which team does.

I put on some comfy jammies, grabbed a big bottle of wine and settled in on the sofa with the pug.

She didn’t seem particularly interested, which really bothered me, so I explained to her that, “We could lose even more of our rights!  Well…maybe not you…wait a minute, maybe you, too!  McCain and Palin don’t give a hoot about animal rights, you know.  They’re shooters…maybe even little tiny pugs like you when they run out of bigger critters and other people they decide are animals to shoot at!”  Sofia jumped into my lap, looking very concerned, and I felt bad about freaking her out.  “Don’t be scared, I’ll protect you, but seriously: this is important.”

She let out a snurf of relief, and was more attentive henceforth.  I took dictation and have transcribed some of her more notable responses for you.

• As McCain is talking about cutting pork-barrel spending when his VP is a fine example of doing it, Sofia cocks her head, and turns around and looks at me, her eyes big.  I know, little dog.  I know.

Of course, she may have just heard the “pork” part.

• Sofia shakes her head at Repubs talking healthcare.  We huff together at the cute idea that we can all just go choose our doctors here in lalaland.

• For the most part, talk of finances bores her.  Clearly, Sofia is secure in her financial status, which is profoundly foolish, since that’d be my financial status. However, when environmental discussion comes up, she perks up her ears. She’s an environmentalist!  Who knew? Good dog!

• When Obama is talking about assuring higher education for everyone, I realize I have never asked Sofia if she wants to go to college.  So, I ask.  “Hey Sof: college, or home on the sofa?”

Crap.  She interprets this as me offering her a treat.  I must have used my wanna-treat voice.

• Talk of terrorism causes the small-but-mighty pug to leap atop the cat-scratched loveseat and devotedly guard the front window.  If they come for us, she will kill them with cuteness and a painful ankle-nipping.

• H: What do you think about Iraq and Afghanistan?
S:  (head cock, offended snurffle, looks to Obama)
H: You going to ask Obama?
S: (even more deeply offended look) She communicates that not only does SHE understand what’s going on, she’s pretty sure Obama does.  But probably not as well as she.  Gawd.

• McCain makes Sofia snore.  Me too.  But she says likes his floppety face.  We have a serious discussion about how you can’t judge a jerk by their jowls, or think that someone is okay just because they kind of look like you, only hairless.  I think she gets it, but we may need to revisit this talk for her safety.

• Invite them over for tea…snrf.  Obama made a funny.  This dog is easy to amuse.

• I remark that McCain looks constipated.  Sofia concurs and suggests he needs more whole-grain fiber in his diet.  Maybe a biscuit.  Which maybe she needs herself right now, come to think of it.

• Boy, Henry Kissinger is getting a looooooot of phone calls tomorrow, and I think McCain’s face is going to be even more pink.  That’s what Sofia says, anyway.

• She gave McCain a gold star for mostly passing his self-assigned geography quiz.  She says,  “Oooh. Snrf.”

• Now that there is spaghetti and not-meatballs in front of me, Sofia could give a rat’s ass about the election.

H: What do you think?
S: Spaghetti.

A little later…

H: He will take care of veterans?  Riiiiight.
S: Spaghetti.

H: Oh,  that was really lovely.  I’m not being facetious: that was good stuff about –
S: SPAGHETTI.
H: I give up.  Oh, good, so did they.

posted in Heather Corinna, apropos of nothing, puggy business | permalink | comments (3) »

The good news is that I have come home to a much improved little pug.

The day I left, I had Mark go back to the vet with Sofia, who in taking a next step, put her on some Cortizone tabs. One to cover all of the bases, I let Mark know to keep an eye peeled for sleep disturbances, appetite changes and the like.

But I must confess, I was a little concerned about my wee dog being on the ‘roids. It’s always the innocent looking ones you’ve got to watch out for, after all. I should know: I live with two such creatures, one furry, the other, not so much.

So, I was also sure to tell him to be on the lookout for breast growth, facial shape changes, weight gain, irritability and serious mood swings, hyper-aggression about her lack of treats and desire to eat the cat food, sexual harassment, outright assault (I suggested her perhaps just sleep alone for a bit: I love him too much to see him psychologically scarred by a snorty dog jumping him while calling him Sally) looting, and above all else, made him swear that no matter how aggro she got or what kind of puppy eyes she gave him, he was absolutely not to cave in when she insisted on the purschase of weight training equipment.

But lo, all it has resulted in is the dog finally ceasing the infernal itching and Mark finally getting to sleep through the night, unmolested and all.

Unfortunately, Sofi is currently the only one experiencing any relief from her allergies right now. I got whacked with a full-force attack in Minneapolis, which went from bad to worse with an evening spent in a friend’s house with two male cats.

On the flight back home yesterday afternoon, in a Benadryl-induced haze already, my ears completely plugged up during the last hour of the flight, to the point where I was literally unable to hear anything. Given there were not one but two exceptionally unhappy infants on the plane who didn’t stop screaming for a millisecond, this was something of a blessing, but it’s also pretty disturbing as a normally hearing person to see a wide open screaming face and not hear a sound. I could hear a bit better slowly through the evening, but my ears only finally popped for real this morning. Yeowch.

It was a trip mostly full of babies — Becca’s new son, who is cute as the dickens, and looks like someone put a shrink-ray gun on Becca to make him, and The Baby Liam, who is less baby than certified little big boy at this point. I educated him this time in the fine art of fort-building, living room dance parties, slide-climbing, sidewalk-chalking and other very important survival skills. Then he broke my heart the day I left by being intensely unhappy I was going.

Really, I don’t want to be back in Minneapolis — especially given that my neighborhood there has continued to change so much that I couldn’t afford to live there anymore — but I would very much like it if some of the people I cared about most were not so very far away. Missing my closest friends’ kids every little stage really just freaking sucks: I take my gig as Auntie Extraordinare incredibly seriously, after all, and I’ve made a family of my friends. However, Elise and I made a barter which involves my going back in June. I had initially thought it might be a good year and a half or so until I went out that way again — I am just so wiped from all this travel — but alas, it’ll be a bit sooner.

Mark picked me up last night and, elated about the spices I brought back from him, cooked me up a scrumptious supper, peppered me with wine and bourbon and we then engaged in some very enthusiastic interpretive dance in the dining room as a welcome-home. Since the food, booze and wild gesticulating wore us right out, I had to wait until this morning to jump his bones. There’s always something particularly nice about telling someone you’re so terribly sorry you made them a bit late for work but not truly being sorry for it in the slightest.

So, I’m back in the saddle as of tomorrow, and got a little head start today.

On that note, from now through September 16th, we have an arrangement with the popular Broadway play My First Time for ticket vouchers for Scarleteen donors. I’m doing it blind-auction style, so they’ll go to the 18 donors who give the most, and can be used through the end of October. More details are here for those interested in donating or circulating the information, particularly to New Yorkers and other nearby east-coasters. I’d love it if readers could circulate that info: it remains a bad year for us, and this is a nice opportunity for us and donors. Thanks!

posted in Heather Corinna, Scarleteen, family, puggy business | permalink | comments (4) »