Dog Days of Summer

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I have this thing with dogs. 

I love them. I love dogs. It's like Oprah with bread, except it's dogs. 

I. Love. Dogs.

If knowing weird dog breeds was a thing one could do for a living, I'd be in high demand. Sadly, it is not, which is why I'm blogging about dogs for the sheer fun of it. 


You may think I am exaggerating my dog breed knowledge, but you would be incorrect. Recently whilst speeding through DC in an Uber with my daughter, she pointed to a funky looking dog across the street.

"Look at that dog! What is that?" My daughter asked.

"Oh, that's a Dandie Dinmont." I replied, matter of factly, as if Dandie Dinmonts just spramped around every dog park or sidewalk on a regular basis.

"What's a Dandie Dinmont? Did you make that up?"

I make things up all of the time so it wasn't out of the question.

"It's a terrier. Google it."

Behold, the noble Dandie Dinmont Terrier

Behold, the noble Dandie Dinmont Terrier

And so she did.

Et voila, behold the Dandie Dinmont. Weird little dog, eh? Almost as weird as an Affenpinscher, almost.

Above you will find a picture of me with Cupcake, the poodle. As you can see, clearly, Cupcake is my spirit animal. Cupcake is also one of the sweetest dogs I have ever met. I meet dogs all of the time. I'm the annoying lady who simply HAS TO come and pet your dog, even if you seem nonplussed by the idea. Just let me pet your dog, it will be quick and painless and we can all get on with our lives. 

I have three dogs. Our three slightly irregular shelter dogs are horribly behaved and incapable of walking together in a public space. This is my fault, not theirs. My husband and I have tried and tried and tried to train them to walk together. We have tried various and sundry leashes. We have tried treat training. We have tried behavioral modification.

None of this has proved useful. 

I know all about dogs and dog breeds, but I am not a dog whisperer.

Oh no.

I am a Dog Yellerer. 

Cricket Bug, Charlie, and Pilkington

Cricket Bug, Charlie, and Pilkington

I owned the url for a while, but what can one do with that, really? Dog Yellerers don't get TV shows or accolades, they get sidelong glances from neighbors who question their sanity. My dogs have selective hearing and a propensity for peeing on my newly planted perrenials. They are also, all three of them, so deeply disturbed by wet grass that they refuse to pee in the yard when it's raining or after it has rained or when the dew is too heavy in the wee small hours of the morning. (Dew, wee small hours, see how I did that?) Two of my dogs are terrier mixes and the third is a Shih-Poo, or as we like to call him, a Shit-Poo. I'd explain why we named him that but trust me when I tell you, it's best we don't discuss it. That is me with our three misfit dogs in the photo there. They're cute, right?

I love my dogs, but I do yell at them. I am not proud of this. 

I don't yell horrible things at them, I just yell at them to stop barking and stop peeing on my perrenials and stop peeing on my deck furniture and stop barking at the neighbors' dogs. I also yell at them when they sneak off and pee or poo in the dining room, a frequent rainy day activity. Anything to avoid the dreaded wet paws. Some days I do a lot of yelling, because they do a lot of peeing. This is absurd, because I'm basically barking at my dogs. I'm sure this confuses them.

Am I joining them? Am I encouraging them? Why is this lady always barking at us?

Why, indeed.

If I could, I'd probably have more than three dogs, but my husband would leave me and I like having him around. Besides, the dogs love him. This might be because he is not a Dog Yellerer. When he's out of town, they love me, but as soon as he gets home they drop me like a cold dog biscuit. 

Whatever, barking lady. 

My husband and I have been walking for exercise in a local park lately. Our dogs are not good at walking together, as I mentioned earlier, so it is just the two of us on these walks. There is a proliferation of dogs at the park every day, this is extremely exciting for me. I must point out each dog, name the breed, get as excited as a three year old at an ice cream party, and then I must say hello and pet them. Today we saw a Basset Hound named Heinz, an Airedale Terrier named Tulpy, a standard Poodle whom I was not able to pet, and a Chihuahua named Coco. Who knows what excitement awaits us tomorrow? 

After all, these are the Dog Days of Summer, literally and figuratively.

Sirius-ly. Ruff-ly speaking. Gives one paws for reflection, doesn't it? Fleas, believe me. 

Good lord, it has come to this. 

This blog post has gone to the dogs.