Overthunk

Eleven years ago, except for when I was a kid, I'd had nothing but cats. I'd moved out of a roommate situation, amicably, but into my own space, the first apartment I'd had just to myself. My cat, a fluffy Himalayan, had passed a few months ago, and I decided I wanted a dog. No one I knew had a dog. All my friends were cat people. Yet the idea persisted: a black pug was the dog for me. "Dogs take so much attention," the cat people warned me. "Are you sure?" Yet I searched on. I found a breeder. I kept thinking, overthinking, agonizing. It became a calling. The trepidation increased: was it the right thing to do? Could I give him enough attention? Would I walk him enough? Still, I decided on a name. Pugs are rather hobbitlike - stocky, focused on creature comforts, independent, second-breakfasting - so Pippin was perfect. In Lord of the Rings, a life manual of sorts for gamer nerd girls like me, Pippin was the mischievous one who did things his own way, y...

I'm sick. Of work, and all its accompanying flamjamzytram, so I took today off. On the constitutional with Le Puggin this morning, I passed a woman walking with her shiny silver weights. As the puggin and I got within, oh, fifty paces or so, she began to froth at the mouth in this manner: " notintadogs I'mnotintadogs PLEASE I'mnotintadogs! " Now understand that this darling canine creature stands about 12 inches high at the very pinnacle of his velvet triangle ears. While he does rail against and steer the end of the retractable leash with all his might like some snuffling, furry kite, all his might ain't that much. He was nowhere near her, and I was already reeling him in. I said nothing, but every time I passed her on the circle track after that, I contemplated "accidentally" dropping the leash, loosing a slavering, gregarious toy hound upon her. (On the upside, now when Le Puggin annoys me, I can threaten to send him to the house of t...

I'm starting to think that Pippin Peregrine Took (alias Pugpin) is secretly aware that his naughty behaviour is making him famous on the Interweb, because today, once again, he committed a heinous act. I decided to install some rocklike (i.e. plastic) borders around my front flower bed today. While I was doing that, I foolishly figured that the pup might like to get some sun. Because he can't be trusted to stay close in the front yard, I took him out and hitched him by his leash AND HARNESS to a bench I have out front, giving him the freedom to roam a bit, near me, but still safely secure. Or so I thought. While I was planting petunias, he was seemingly just kind of "playing" amongst the Japanese boxwoods, hibiscus and overgrown weeds. The next thing I know, the little Houdini has slipped his bonds and is trotting along the back fence towards the main road. On he goes, past all my neighbors' backyards, enjoying the sun, galloping along, and having a grand t...

Plotting... 

The look of innocence perfected. 

Just look at those ears aflapping and that panicked look as the Puggin flees his latest venture!! 

It recently came to my awareness that the evil deeds of the resident representative of puggery extend far deeper than I previously knew (how was that for a cumbersome hell of a sentence??). You see, my house is small, and the kitchen and living room adjoin in such a way that you could watch TV, over the bar, while washing dishes. Because of this, I have a couch beneath the bar, in the living room. Atop the bar is my rock collection ('cause I wasn't enough of a dork without also being a geology enthusiast). For some unknown reason, the Puppin enjoys hurtling himself against the back of the couch repeatedly until he can kidnap some rocks to hurry off somewhere with and chew. Ours is not to reason why, but merely to defend the igneous, sedimentary and metamorphic from the advances of a slobbery mammalian. So, I hear tell from my roommate that the other day, he had chastised the Puppin Mineral Menace against self-hurtling, and then dozed off a little while watching TV. Well, af...

Allllright, I'm going to sound like a prude and I'm really not at ALL but what's with the inappropriate sexual overtones in seemingly inane food commercials ? OBserve: 1. Chunky Soup -- FILLS YOU UP RIGHT Watch beefy footballmen cavort as they talk about "soup." As a sage named Robert Plant used to say, "I'm gonna give you every inch of my spoon, I'm gonna give you my... broth!!" Or something like that. 2. Dr. Pepper -- STACY'S MOM HAS GOT IT GOING ON Take an already sexually sketchy Fountains of Wayne song and pair it with images of a cadre of post-soccer-game adolescent males lusting for a refreshing beverage (or for Stacy's mom, dressed in pert yellow and teasing them with the slow-roll open of the minivan door, revealing icy DP goodness waiting just inside. (Yes, pun intended, thanks for asking.) Either someone didn't get it, or someone very much did. However, these pseudooffensive food peddlings on...

(BTW, I fucking hate George Thorogood. And the Destroyers.) (Why the hell did I think he was dead? Turns out he isn't.) Anyway, I do drink alone. But every time I tell someone that, they gasp to themselves and think it's something horrible. I also drive my car alone, try on ridiculous bras alone, do breast self-examinations alone, clean my garage alone.... when you live with only your roommate and your dog, you do lots of things alone. So if I come home and feel like having wine with dinner, guess what I do? I have some. I don't call 15 friends to see if someone can come over to keep me from falling into an alcoholic abyss. Besides, I'm not REALLY alone... my pug's always home and he could run for help if needed. Long as he didn't drink too much of the beer that spilled on the floor when I keeled over (that last bit was of course, a fictional account). Crap, I have a bigger problem with eating cookies than I do drinking, and I do that alone LO...