dead-legged by my dog

N.A.S.H.A. waits until the littles have asked me for ten things in a row. She lets me sit down for precisely fifteen seconds, and then she punches me in the leg. Usually. Sometimes, if she really wants something, she doesn't wait for me to sit down. She waits until my knees are locked, and then she punches me right in the sweet spot, giving me a dead-leg like I've never had. The girl only weighs eleven pounds, so it's not about heft, but about perfection of the skill. She has absolutely perfected it. This happens on a daily basis, sometimes multiple times in a day.

But this morning, she took it to a whole new level. Not only did I have my knees locked, but I was taking that sweet first sip of my piping hot coffee. BAM! All over my face and PJs. (Don't worry, I'm okay. It wasn't that hot.) And then she sat down, mocking me.

Does your dog ever do this to you, or am I the only moron that responds to it by giving her the treat she's asking for, reinforcing the behavior not only with my attention but with food? Because it's so cute and smart that she knows how to ask for a treat. She has trained me well.

i am not a prejudiced pet sitter: Blog the Change for Animals

As a professional pet sitter, I can't tell you how many times people say the following things the first time I speak to them on the phone: "Do you take care of big dogs? I hope you don't charge extra."

"Sweetie is a Rottweiler, but she's really nice...she's never bitten anyone...she loves kids...you'll love her..."

"He's a Chihuahua, so he's little. So you don't charge as much, right?"

"She's a Golden Retriever. She's a lover, and she'll be super easy."

And my all-time favorite "Do you sit for Pit Bulls?"

I always provide the same answer: "I don't discriminate based on size or breed. Every dog deserves the same amount of attention and love. I won't take care of a dog that shows hostility toward me, regardless of the breed or size, and I take wonderful care of all animals that will let me, regardless of the breed or size. There is no difference in price."

Sure, Goliath's poop is HUGE, but that's not his fault. I'll pick up his, and I'll pick up Chi-chi's, just the same.

I have slept in bed with many a Pit Bull's tongue in my face (in a good way) and I've been barked out of town by a Golden Retriever. I have learned through experience not to prejudge the animal. I greet each animal with the energy that is appropriate for the energy he shows me, whether that be positive or negative, big or small. Just like people, dogs are individuals and deserve the right to shine (or not).

So let's judge them, but let's judge them fairly after getting to know them. Just as most of us refuse to judge our human friends by their color or size, might we do the same for dogs? My motto: assume the best, but be prepared for the worst. I apply that to everyone I meet.

Hi! It's nice to meet you...

do our girls need doll-people dog dolls?

When I was pregnant with my first child, a couple of my friends gave me some lovely gifts in a beautifully-lined wicker basket that was about the size of a laundry basket. I deemed that the toy basket for my newborn son and vowed that he would never have more toys than could fit in that basket. My children would not be spoiled. They would play with blocks and other unbranded toys that would challenge their imaginations and grow their minds. And then I became an actual parent, not just a hippie fantasy parent.

We outgrew the basket immediately, and soon we couldn't live without Transformers, Diego, and Superman. Things felt a bit out of control, so I had to draw the line. No guns. Absolutely no guns. Then came friends. And they had guns. Water guns, Nerf guns–you name it. So then, the things in my house that were not guns became guns. Sigh. And then we got a Nerf gun as a gift, and now we have a gun collection and a glass jar full of various ammo.

You might think I have no backbone when it comes to my kids. You might be right.

I do my best to get all of these things from our favorite kids' consignment store, and my kids swap toys with their friends all the time, so while we consume and consume, we try to be as conscious about it as we can.

I thought all this toy stuff would get even worse with my daughter, but it didn't. She was surprisingly happy to play with the blocks and Hot Wheels we already had. At four years old, she's now into anything dress-up, including makeup, jewelry, and tattoos. I'm cool with that. She's expressing herself by making up all types of scenarios about going to work and being royalty ad being a dancer/rockstar/doctor/teacher. With tattoos and lots of lip gloss.

She has a couple of beloved stuffed animals, but, aside from that, she's never really been drawn to anything doll-like.

I have never been so happy about that until I saw the commercial for Pinkie Cooper and the Jet Set Pets.

I'm not versed enough in child psychology or feminine perspectives to write a Pulitzer Prize-winning article about all of the negatives or positives this toy can do for a child's self esteem, but I will say that my gut reaction was, "WTF?"

So here we have dogs–no humans–no, dogs! Oh, I don't know...I'm so confused. They don't look like dogs or humans. What do I know?

They are dolls targeted toward young girls. They have Barbie-like bodies, fashionable clothes, dog-like heads that are not proportionate to the body...Oh, what am I saying?! How do you make a out-of-proportion dog head proportionate to an out-of-proportion female body. And then there is the hair/ears. I mean, if it's a dog head, it should have ears, right? But, no. In place of dog ears, we have long, silky hair (oh, and you can switch out the hair with the other dolls, ensuring consumer purchase of the whole collection of dog-people dog dolls).

They seem to have makeup on, don't they? Does makeup apply well to fur? Because it is a dog head, right?

Okay, so it's a toy and doesn't have to be realistic. I've often been accused of not being able to let go of my adult brain and go-with-the-fantasy-flow. So I ask myself, what's my problem with these toys? And why did I tell my daughter "no" before she even had a chance to say she liked them?

Is it the sex part? I mean, these dog-girls are sexy. But then, they have these big baby eyes. So now they're child-like and sexy at the same time. Why am I semi-okay with Barbies and okay with dog toys, but am having a visceral reaction to these toys? If not the sex part, then maybe it's the creepy part. They are creepy, right?

What message are we sending...that's always the question. I'm not claiming to know. But I know that our little girls need not be this sexy, and our dogs need not be this sexy, and they definitely need not be sexy and babyish at the same time. I guess their creative aspect is that they can switch their hair. But what do they do? At least Barbie has a career or two. Maybe the uplifting self-esteem affirming message to our girls in all this is that it's okay to be sexy even if you have a face like a dog?

If you expected this to be some in-depth psychological study, I'm sorry do disappoint. I have none of the answers. What I feel, however, is that this toy is insulting to dogs and to young girls, and I'm not buying it.

Wordless Wednesday: catnapping coco

perhaps the best client i've ever had

I was dreading the moment when Mona Chica's parents would come to collect their other fantabulous pooches. Two others, to be exact. If you read my post, she died in my arms last night, you know we've had a really rough week. Since Mona Chica passed, we've been dealing with the emotions of it all. It's rough. Not just for me, but for my whole family. And since then, we've been caring for Mona Chica's older brother and sister. Until today.

As a professional pet sitter...I'm thinking that's now an oxymoron. Because there is nothing professional about crying on the phone when you tell your client that their pet has passed. The professional part was that I downgraded from all-out bawling, which I reserved for my family. But, then, a week later (they were on a cruise, don't judge)–today–when they came to collect their other animals, once they started to cry, so did I. And we hugged, which is also not considered professional in the professional sense. Mona Chica's mom remembered that Campbell (my 4-year-old daughter) was over the moon to take care of a Chihuahua, her dream doggie. So she brought this for Cam:

Unbelievable, right?

Let me break it down for you if you haven't heard: I was taking care of these dogs for the first time. Though the clients knew their Chihuahua was sick, they didn't know how sick. Mona Chica's death, though not unexpected, was shocking. Then, when returning from their stay away, immediately after dealing with her beloved's remains, upon collecting their other dogs, they presented my daughter with a toy Chihuahua (Mona Chica look-alike), simply because they knew Campbell had been excited to help me care for Mona Chica.

I think these brand-new clients touched something in me, and in Campbell, that we didn't realize before, and probably won't fully realize for some time. I didn't think as much about my own daughter's feelings of failure as I did about my own, the professional pet sitter, or as I did about my clients, who had suffered the ultimate loss. Sure, our family went through the emotions of loss and talked it out, but I never even conceived that my girl might feel a bit of failure that the dog who she most likely felt ultimately responsible for died in our care.

We now have a new Mona Chica in our lives. And though she can't truly compete with the original Mona Chica, she's something special, and she lets my daughter–and me–know that we're something special. And that we did the best we could. And that loss sometimes just happens anyway.