Dude Looks Like a Matey

"Every day is a production. You wake up to produce that day." -Norman Lear

I never thought I would see the day. Ever. The day when two dogs were living in my house. I would have told you I had a better chance of owning an alligator than owning another dog. After all, I'm not really a dog person to begin with. Then again, I guess I can't say that anymore now, can I? Another dog was never even a consideration. Luna, it's been well documented, is my soul mate. How could I ever do that to her? Then I saw his face...

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The Dog That Changed the World

"Happiness is a warm puppy." -Charles Schulz, and something I routinely say to Luna.

Before Peanut made me a father, Luna made me a dad. I know how ridiculous that sounds, especially  to non-pet people. It's even more ridiculous when you consider it's coming from me. Let me be clear: I am NOT a dog person. I do not like your dog. I do not think your dog is cute. I don't want to pet your dog. I definitely don't want your dog licking me. Gross. There are some exceptions but for the most part, gross.

I feel like this picture looks like
someone caught us having an affair

I am, however, an unapologetic Luna person. It borders on manic. She is E.T. to my Elliot. My furry little friend who is my only company at the buttcrack of morning and the quiet of night. I sing her songs. In fact, our morning routine consists of her standing at the kitchen doorway waiting to be fed as I include her name in whatever song happens to be in my head that day. (Recent hits include "Call Me Luna," "If You Get Caught Between The Loo and New York City," and "Just a Spoonful of Luna Helps the Medicine Go Down.")

I am however, not alone in my adoration for Luna and my placement of her upon her puppy pedestal. During Luna's most recent check-up, I explained to the veterinarian how I was never a dog person. How I'm still not a dog person. How I am only a Luna person. I told her how My Director kept hinting and asking and pleading for years. For seven years. (A dog year.) She wanted a dog. She is a dog person. I kept refusing. Absolutely not. I'm allergic. Dogs are messy. And I just don't like them.

Then she sent me an online picture of Luna, who was called "Muffin" at the time. (She is SO not a Muffin.) My icy dog-hating heart melted. A bond was formed:

Our relationship borders on inappropriate at times

Luna gets inappropriate at times

I proceeded to tell the vet how even my in-laws, perpetually dog people but big dog people, had their minds changed by this stubborn little lovable furry princess:

Shielding herself from the heat

Seriously with this pose?

Her response? "Luna changed the world."

I never thought of it that way. But yes, she did. I would never have imaged I could love a dog so much. Let alone, this ridiculous 12-pound stinkface whose curly tail always tells the tale, who keeps me up nights if there's a thunderstorm, who will whimper at me to play with her the minute I sit down after a long day. Then who will without fail take my place on the couch after I've laid down on the floor to engage her. Ridiculous.

One night this week I asked Peanut who taught her to be funny. "You, daddy," she said. "And Luna." I love that statement. But more for the fact that she mentioned Luna. Luna, the dog with the perpetually shmoopy tail; the dog with the stinky grille and snarfy puss. The dog whose voice sounds like Cheech Marin even though she's a female Asian breed and I'm Italian-American.

Happy 7th birthday the dog who changed the world:

I can forgive Luna when she misbehaves easier than I can forgive Peanut when she does. Click here to find out why.

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The Dog Days of Summer

"If you saw a heat wave, would you wave back?" -Stephen Wright

It's too hot to do anything outside.  Yesterday, in fact, I turned on the grill and I feared I would spontaneously combust as it fired up. But we don't have it nearly as bad as our four-legged friends. Let's be honest. How much more unbearable would this weather be if we were covered in fur?

Luna is not having it. Wants nothing to do with the heat.

Every time I open the playroom door that leads to our back patio, I hear the sudden jingle-jangling from wherever she is in the house like I always do. So I wait for her. She stops at the doorway. I'm standing there holding the door for her with one hand and a dish full of marinated chicken and a grill spatula in the other.

She waits. She looks outside, then looks up to me as if to say, "I'm not going out there. Are you crazy?" (Remember, we gave Luna a voice like Cheech Marin. It's much funnier if you read her that way.)

I try to encourage her to go outside, "Cmon, Loo... Let's go.... It's ok."

Yes, the look on her face has registered such concern that I have to assure her that she will be alright once she goes outside. The yard is pretty well shaded. So there's plenty of room for her to roam, pee, and go back inside relatively unscathed.

Still... she stares.

So I go out there without her. A minute later, after putting my chicken on the grill, she hears me open the door to come inside. And I hear the same jingle-jangling. This time, she stops at the doorway to the playroom. She looks at me as if to ask, (cue the Cheech) "How is it out there? As bad as I thought?"

And now I'm actually having a conversation with her.

"You know, if you want to go outside, just go."

(Cheech) "But I don't want to."

"It's fine. Just for a couple of minutes to pee. It's not that big of a deal." (My voice, if you're wondering, is deep and nasal-y, like the Lollipop Guild on steroids.)

She inches closer. I have no patience to hold the door any longer while she decides. So I close it and move on.

Later, Luna joins me as I go next door. We're watering our neighbor's flower garden while they're away. I used the front door; so Luna didn't hesitate to follow me. She treats the front door a lot differently than the back door (unintentional sexual innuendo). She equates the front door with going for a walk.

She also loves sniffing around our next door neighbor's house. They don't mind because they love animals, and have one of their own. Recently we pet-sat for them, which I wrote about here.

I couldn't resist squirting her with the sprayer a half a dozen times as she was inspecting their yard. I thought I was helping her cool off. But every time I did it, without fail, she got mad at me. Tail-down, run-away, find-a-place-to-hide mad.

When I was done, I asked her if she wanted to go for a walk. She was excited. I had lifted her spirits. I was excited too. She hadn't pooped in two days because of her refusal to walk in the heat.

This Dog's Done

We entered the park, made our turn onto our chosen path and at last, after nearly 48 hours, Luna proceeded to...lay down. Right there on the path. She was a hot black panting mess.

She looked up at me and said, (Cheech) "I can't go on any longer. You go ahead without me. I'll be just fine right here."

I let her cool down for a minute, then we turned tail and headed home. Still no poop.

So add heat to the list of weather conditions in which my dog will not poop. Snow, rain, dark (yes, dark) and now heat. She's like the opposite of the post office. She doesn't deliver unless the conditions are perfect.

If you haven't read about my walks with Luna AND the peanut, it's worth clicking here.

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A Bode in My Abode

"Fish and house guests smell after three days" -Ben Franklin

Those are words of wisdom from one of our country's founding fathers as we head into July 4th weekend. I wonder if he'd feel the same way about hamsters.


Bode in action

I never thought we would welcome a rodent into our home, much less feed it and play with it. Enter our neighbor's pride and joy, Bode the Hamster. We were pet sitting for the weekend.

The members of my family were spilt evenly when it came to being excited about our furry friend.

I have to admit, I was in the "anti" group. I'm not an animal person. I'm not against them, per se. I just don't like them. Especially furry little rats that pretend to be cute. How, you may be wondering, can I be against animals if I own a dog? Well, I love my dog. I. Love. My. Dog. My love for her borders on inappropriate. I am, however, not a dog person. I am a Luna person. She's my dog and I lover her.

It took my wife the better part of eight years to finally break me down and agree to get a dog.

So I don't gush over other dogs or any other animal for that matter. Coincidentally, the other person in my household who was anti-Bode, was Luna. In fact, she would take the widest route possible from the family room to the stairs just to avoid the hamster's cage when we were going up to bed. That's my girl. 

I didn't touch Bode all weekend. Neither did Luna.


Bode in his exercise ball

My wife and daughter were all in. I actually cringed and my stomach turned when they let Bode run around in the kitchen. As soon as they picked him up to return him to his cage, I was wet Swiffering the floor. Gives me the willies just thinking about it.

My wife is an animal lover. She had a menagerie of pets growing up. She says she'd do the same for the peanut when she's of age. I say I will put up a fight with every fiber of my being.

When our neighbors came to retrieve Bode on Monday evening, the peanut was sad. She didn't want him to go, even though she mostly ignored him until it was time to let him out for some exercise. After we closed the door, some of my anti-Bode sentiments melted away. That's what a daughter's sadness will do to the most stubborn of dads.

I asked her if she wants a hamster like Bode, when she's old enough. She said no.

That's my girl.

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