Maybe it was a case of the nerves (for both of us).
Maybe he got into the stash of Coke I keep in the garage refrigerator when I wasn’t looking.
Or maybe he sensed my trauma with my cousins’ lab as a child and thought he’d exploit it as much as possible.
[editor note: although it happened to me when I was around 7, that moment when my cousins’ yellow lab – ironically named Peanut when in fact he weighed
250 100 pounds – put two front paws on my shoulder and barked in my panic-stricken face still can leave me with a strong desire to cry like a little girl under my pillow when I remember it now.]
Whatever was the cause of yesterday’s doggy spaz/my spaz, thankfully yesterday has passed and today was a new day.
A day in which I would see a friend who is the “Dog Whisperer” of this area (she hates when we call her that because she’s much too humble to say it about herself). Nancy would know what to do about the hyper dog and stressed out woman who were trying to coexist.
The morning routine went better than yesterday. My children actually saw my face more than a fleeting “grab something to eat…” like they had on Monday. I had cleared out the garage of dangers and had pre-loaded some containers with his food so that he could eat and dry off while I got breakfast done. Perfect.
I had put on old clothes and gym shoes before getting him so I could take him for a walk (plastic bags in tow this time, thank you) as soon as the girls got on the bus. Great.
I got him fresh water and had him dry off agin while I put on work clothes. I even wore black pants.
Got him into his cage feeling all great about myself and hopped into the van for a meeting and then work.
It was about half way to my meeting, right in the middle of me thinking that this might be getting better, when I realized that I had forgotten to change out if my grungy slip-on shoes that I wore to quickly take Reily out for his business before the crate.
It was quite the fashion statement, let me tell you.
Nancy had plenty of ideas for how to make this relationship work. She also had ideas for a mutual friend whose dog is obsessively eating the poop of another dog. Really? This is what I have to look forward to when a dog comes into my life? And these are the loved ones who show affection by licking? Again, wondering if I should just be happier with kisses from a Buck Bearded man.
Tonight has been much better with all of us in a more relaxed mood. No doggie breath served with dinner. The eyes weren’t seemingly trying to hypnotize me into dropping food. He laid low and didn’t cause trouble. It could’ve been as result of my new-found authority in his life. Or the fact that he ate half a sock.
In any case, maybe there is hope for us after all.
And maybe I’ll start keeping a spare pair of black flats in the van.