Yes, that's right. Two dog posts in a row. You like it.
We have our first dog obedience class tonight and I can tell by the way Emma's licking herself that she's excited. I think it will be a fitting end to what has already been a VERY confusing day for young Emmy Lou Hairy.
We're trying to get into a routine with her around feeding and walking but for a variety of reasons, that was all shot to hell today and we were wingin' it.
First of all, her foster mom told us that Emma LOVES a ride in the car. Emma has never been in our car before though, and I thought that it might be smart to have a dry run before we try to stuff her in there tonight on the way to class. So Emma and I went down to the parking garage where we spent the better part of a delightful hour getting in and out of the car with the car blanket, without the car blanket, under the car blanket, etc. I think we both had the hang of it by the end. She christened the car by shaking her fur all over it. Katr will be so pleased.
The first dog class is supposed to be dog-free but since we hadn't tried leaving Emma alone too much yet, we asked if we could bring her along. The teacher agreed, hence the practice with the car. But a couple of hours after our fun with the car, I thought I would step outside the apartment for a minute, just to see what the dog did.
She watched me walk over the door and started to follow me as I went through and shut it behind me. I heard her little claws on the tile as she snuffled around the bottom of the door. She didn't bark or whine or paw the door, though, which was great. "Good girl," I thought, encouragingly. After counting to 60, I went to go back in again.
That's when I realized I had locked myself out of our condo.
Ha ha ha. Shitballs.
I double checked my pockets for the things I had been carrying in there earlier in the day that would have been helpful at this juncture: keys, $12, my cellphone. All I had in there was a wadded up paper towel left over from a failed attempt to clean the dog's ears this morning and a half a pork-flavoured DentaStix (no ear cleaning, no treat). Fortunately, I also had one other thing up my sleeve. Katr's number at work, which I miraculously had memorized. Hurray! Hurray for my brain!
Katr's a very patient lass, especially, as it turns out, when it comes to me and this dog. As the Feminist Mafia said of her pooch Nora in the last comments, this dog is kind of kicking my ass and in my attempts to tire her out, I'm tiring myself out and also forgetting to eat and then getting upset and bawling because I'm so hungry and tired and annoyed about how when we're out on the leash, the dog keeps testing me to see who's in charge and it's exhausting (sounds of quiet weeping). Ah ah ah, ladies, hold yourselves back - I'm taken.
I'm sure it was a real treat for Katr to be on the other end of the call I made from the building caretaker's office informing her that I had locked myself out and the dog in. She was very good and hopped on the Skytrain to bring me her keys so that I could rescue the dog I had abandoned. We sat on the platform at the Skytrain for awhile, as I geared myself up to return to our possibly frantic pooch. I wondered what I might find when I opened the door. Continuous barking? Claw marks of the door? The dog is a defecational prodigy - would she have offered a demonstration on the rug?
The answer, of course, is none of the above. I got back up to our floor and heard some piteous whining coming from behind our door. When I let myself in, Emma greeted me with more whining and some attempted jumping up, but all in all, it was quite civilized. And minutes later, it was as if nothing had ever happened.
So it turns out melle was right. The dog is not a crystal swan. Mistakes have been made, but so far nothing's broken and we'll get this all figured out.
And we'll never go out without the keys again, will we Emma? Will we? Hmm? Will we, girl? No, we won't, will we?
Good dog.