Dog Days

I am intensely uncomfortable around animals. Dogs (particularly giant poodles), cats, birds (particularly swans), goats, lambs, like that. Make of this what you will--I'm sure it reveals some deep character flaw and that it will prove to be the straw that broke the camel's back when Judgement Day arriveth. Though I'm sure they sense my anxiety, I try not to display it in front of my daughters. After all, the last thing anyone needs is four females shrieking in unison when a hamster breaks free of its cage.

This is all by way of telling you about the canine (mis)adventures that Lea and I have had in the last month. Without further ado:

1. Pug Off!

I hold Lea's hand when we're out because 1) it's kinda nice and 2) she is far too busy looking around to realize that she's about to walk into a pole, garbage can, some strange man's leg, or whatnot. The other day, despite the fact that I was holding her hand, she careened into a pug (he came up to about her knees) with such force that they bounced off each other. If I'd had a video camera with me, I tell ya--Bob Sackett would be all over me by now. The best part is that they were both pissed. The pug's owner and I just smiled at each other and dragged our angry children away.

2. Relax, It's Just a Pitbull

When we first passed the pitbull, it was sunning itself contentedly at the feet of its master, who was eating breakfast in the outdoor seating area of a little cafe. Twenty feet past it, we heard low barking and an unfamiliar clatter. Turned around to see the damn thing running right at us, dragging a chair with it. Its genius owner had tethered it to a flimsy plastic chair. I scooped Lea up and turned my back, half hoping it would just disappear but knowing that if it didn't, I would rather have my back mauled than my front. And I could just drop my body right over Lea's. The owner was--big surprise--little help. She just screamed, "Oh my God! Oh my God!" and attempted to run after it in her high heels and movement-restricting jeans. Luckily, the Evil Beast got itself tangled up around a parking meter before it reached us.

3. Lea's First Joke

Big dog at the playground. Big like a pony; I think it was a St. Bernard. Whatever the case, it stood about 3 inches taller than Lea. I will always remember this dog because it's one of the few that didn't immediately strike fear in my heart. Don't get me wrong, I didn't pet it or anything, but it had such a peaceful vibe. Just a big, dopey dog. When we walked past it on the way to the car, Lea said, "Whoa. Mom, you better put a diaper on that dog." And then she started laughing. She laughed so hard she couldn't walk. I had to pick her up and put her in her carseat, still laughing.

And, well, that's all.