Bark Park Showdown

It's like when I took Jocelyn's bike out in the city many moons ago and I hadn't been bike riding in forever and careening down Kelly Drive felt awesome. I did the whole loop and things were humming along smoothly until I reached Spring Garden St. where we lived and attempted to jump the median strip (it's similar to how Boulevards are set up) and didn't quite have the upper body strength to get that front wheel up and over the 6 inch median so the front wheel colided with the concrete and the bike and I went down, sprawled across the grassy median and me, disheveled, sat up, looked around, and calmly picked myself up (with my now scraped and bloody knee) and grabbed the bike and slinked off (walked across the street and up the steps) into the dusk (my apartment).

Such was Juliet's experience yesterday at the Bark Park when she got in the middle of a scruff - thinking she's bigger and bolder and cooler than she really is - and went down. Some black lab that really didn't want to be there was all freaked out and snapping at another dog and in runs Jules to get a piece of the play and my poor doggie was in the wrong place at the wrong time and got bit. There was a pinch, blood and a yelp. Then she went charging after this black lab, teeth (fangs?) showing, snarling and barking. Vince snatched her before she could do herself anymore damage and whisked her away.

She's at home now, the pathetic wounded injured dog (it's really not this dramatic - a tiny cut on her inner lip) but of course we're making a big production over her recess showdown and giving her toys and treats and attention. Just like me and the bike - these spills are bound to happen when we are little dogs with big attitudes.

Coming Home

We went away for a few days to the shore and left our doggie with Vince's cousin. I was heart broken when we left. I knew my dad was giving me a hard time about bringing her to the beach house, swearing there was a clause in the lease screaming NO DOGS ALLOWED. Of course after we arrived, there was dog evidence everywhere - little chew toys, a ripped comforter, and the big tell tale sign: a crate in the garage. No dogs, dad?!

Juliet would have behaved and been a delight. We could have taken her to the beach and walked her along the Wildwood board walk. As it was, she remained in PA wondering where her mommy and daddy were for a few days.

She greeted us yesterday with a combination of confusion and happiness. She's a real mommy girl but gave me a bit of a cold shoulder early yesterday afternoon. I guess seeing her arcade prizes made her forget all about being left behind and by the time I arrived home from babysitting at 7:30, she was all over me. She's a lap dog, a sleep with her face as close to your head (if not buried in your collarbone) sort of dog. Right now we are on the new king bed. I'm typing this blog and she's curled in a ball next to me. In classic Jules style, her whole body is pressed up to my thigh. Must touch someone. Make sure they are right next to me.

Silly dog. I love her to pieces.

Diary of a Dog

It's been so hot and I haven't been able to go to the bark park in days so I'm a tad more rambunctous than normal. I need stimulation so I wander around my house and look for interesting stuff - a baseball hat, a photograph, an ear of corn. These are all new and exciting and I can chew on them.

Except yesterday I snatched a photo and ripped it and when my mommy saw it she started crying. I don't think I have ever seen her cry like that. I don't think I ever did something so bad it made her cry. She wouldn't even talk to me (she usually tells me I'm a bad dog if I pee or poop in the house or do something else like rip toilet paper) but this time she was too upset to speak to me. I went in my crate for a while and then she let me out to pee and wander the backyard but then I stayed in the kitchen with my bed and bowls for the rest of the day. All alone. I hate being alone.

But then, I did rip a photo of her mommy and Pop Pop from 1969. I heard her say she put it back together and it isn't too terrible looking. I think I'll try to be a better dog today.

Love, Juliet

A Misbehaving Munchkin

Juliet decided in the middle of crossing MacDade that she wouldn't have any more of this walking business and this highway was a prime place to drop down and refuse to move. Thankfully we were standing near the median and it was a green light so there was no oncoming traffic headed straight for us but after a few seconds of unsuccessfully getting her to stand and walk, I had to pick her up and carry her across the road. People in cars making right turns from Fairview onto MacDade stared. My dog is practically throwing a stubborn tantrum in the street and I'm yanking on her leash, she's on her back, thrashing and looking like she's dying and refusing to move! I must have looked like a horrible mother. Safely on the other side I hold her panting and racing body and calm her a bit. She won't talk about this episode and what prompted her to choose the street to misbehave and put both of our lives in danger. The rest of the walk home was just as stubborn. Twice I had to carry her. She refused to go more than 20 yards before plopping down and giving me that "I'm not moving, Mommy" look. So much for taking her to Dunkin Donuts with me.

Is it possible she was pissed because I didn't buy her any munchkins at Dunkin Donuts?

Juliet

Most of my Juliet pictures are on myspace. I thought she needed some representation here as well.

Suicide

4 times in one week my dog has tried to commit suicide. Let me preface the following with the fact that we live on a busy street. Let me also say we are extremely careful of anything in her plain sight. Jules' motto is "If it smells, eat it."

On Monday last week she yanked the leash from my hands and tore through the front yard and driveway before I dove and snagged it and her. The following day she escaped from the backyard through a hole in the fence...only to come scratching at the front door "Let me in!" Vince's heart was in his throat and within a half hour he and his cousin were at Home Depot buying up some new hinges and tools to fix the fence door. Later in the week I placed my newly purchased Bic Soleil razor on the shelf of the tub only to find the entire handle and razor in her mouth, chewed and ruined a few hours later. Attempting to slit her paws? Finally just now she got a hold of a Combat Ant Killer trap. She chewed through the plastic to the poison and Vince and I were on the phone with the Penn Vet Clinic (the emergency weekend vet) frantically wondering if we had to haul our suicidal dog into west Philly. Obviously throwing herself into oncoming traffic and slitting her paws had failed, so poison was her final straw.

This dog is under lock down until she gets herself under control.

Arf. A Fire Extinguisher

The moment went something like this:

Me: Happily chirping away on the phone to the editor of Key To Philadelphia.

A loud bang interrupts my conversation and I peak over to see what fell - nothing. I continue with my chatting.

Jules: Arf. Arf Arf Arf [followed my 30 more seconds of loud barking].

Me: What the hell?? Sorry, Ron, my dog seems to be freaking out about something. Hold on.

I venture into the kitchen where Jules is in her pounce mode - her tiny ass sticking straight up in the air, tiny tail erect, jumping back and forth and barking. At what? I peek behind a corner. There, lying sprawled on the floor is the red fire extinguisher that she managed to knock over, the cause of the loud bang, and with its scary hose, it must have looked like a monster to her. A monster that would come after her and attack her. Clearly she had to give it a piece of her mind. I right the extinguisher and place it back in its corner. Jules finally stops her bark fest and gives it one last Look and turns to follow me out of the room.

This has happened not only with the fire extinguisher but also with the broom, mop and vacuum. Anything large (most things are larger than she), that can potentially move (either because I sweep, mop or vacuum or because she knocks it over and in her head, it moved) or make a strange noise - these objects come out of nowhere to spook her and after days of silence, she finds her voice and barks ferociously at these objects.