Dogeared pages...the parts we want to remember. The spots we want to come back to.
Some people are just
nuts jerks ignorant. To these people, I dedicate the segment "Really!?" This will likely be a reoccurring segment, considering that nuts jerks ignorant people don't seem to be disappearing nearly as fast as I'd like them to.
Today's candidate: The guy-who-was-powerwashing-the-sidewalk-next-to-the-dogpark today. Now, I understand that the sidewalks need washing (even though the washer they use is louder and more irritating than the World Cup vuvuzelas). I also understand that occasionally the spray and dirt will get blown into the dog run. Unpleasant, but I can deal.
However, I do not understand why, when Holly went for a drink at the doggie water fountain, the powerwasher guy decided to whistle at her and then spray her in the face WITH A POWERWASHER. Holly cried and ran away. The guy laughed and whistled to try to get her to come back for more torture.
Really!? Powerwasher Guy, really!?
Sometimes, when Holly gets "bitey" in that playful (but not un-annoying) puppy way, I call her my little snapdragon. There is something slightly reptilian about her head, especially when she shows her teeth. Although she is actually yawning in this shot, not biting, I feel it captures the snapdragon-ness:
I often wonder what Holly dreams about. Holly howls in her sleep.
She also runs, growls, barks, and whimpers in her sleep. But these are all things that she does on a daily basis, while awake. Holly ONLY howls while sleeping. She always howls three times-- no more, no less. It sounds like a fire truck siren: aaaarrrooOOOOOOooooo, aaaarrrooOOOOOOooooo, aaaarrrooOOOOOOooooo. Once, she howled so loudly that she woke herself up. She looked around as if to say, "Hey! Who's making all that racket?!"
This makes me wonder:
Stay tuned for updates on the sleep-howling mystery...
- Does Holly know she can howl? Or is it some latent, subconscious ability?
- Does Holly only encounter howl-worthy things in her sleep? Is it possible that she has crazy, instinctive, call-of-the-wild dreams about hunting in virgin forests-- despite having been raised in Lower Manhattan?
- Is she dreaming about sirens? We do have a lot of sirens in Lower Manhattan.
- Why three howls? Is she in some puppy cult with a secret code? Is she a canine crimefighter passing on the latest intel, like the bark chain in 101 Dalmations?
- If somnambulism is the act of sleep-walking, is there a term for sleep-howling?
As mentioned previously, Holly is NOT a fan of the rain.
When it rains outside (like today), Holly spends most of the day glowering:
It makes me think that she is plotting the eternal doom of whatever has caused the undesirable weather pattern. Ironically, her chagrin tends to make me laugh-- and therefore adds a bit of sunshine to my soggy days.
Holly dares to dip her paws in the dogpark pool. *Warning: You may want to mute. There's a lot of barking.
So, my family owns a wonderful camp house up on the St. Lawrence River. Grandpa built it himself-- that kinda thing. My dream, when I adopted Holly, was to bring her to said camp house during the summer and watch her gleefully swim with us in the river, fetch things from the river, ride around in boats...you get the idea.
Holly's dream, as it turns out, is to live in a desert. With no bathtubs. Holly so abhors water that she will not set foot outside in the rain. She walks out of her way to avoid puddles. She cries when I take a bath.
Therefore, I'm pretty proud of this video. Granted, Holly is only dipping her paws (and barking like a maniac the whole time), but she's IN THE WATER. I'm sure she'll be fording rivers in no time.
Meet Holly (short for Holland). Holly is the inspiration for this blog. Super-cheesy, I know, but it's true. She reminds me to take note of the little things in life, like running and meeting new people and the joy of shredding a roll of toilet paper with one's teeth (OK, so I'm not that into the TP shredding, yet, but she
seems to have a GREAT time with it...).