dogs and roses

One of the things that's made our experience of having a new dog even more lovely is that we're reading the book Inside of a Dog by Alexandra Horowitz. I'd been eyeing the book for a while as I shelved bestsellers at Powell's, and when I brought it home, Stephen had the idea that we could read it together. We used to read to each other when we were first together and have read a number of books that way, including Faraway Places and The Man Who Fell in Love With the Moon. It's been a while, though, and when Stephen suggested we do that with Inside of a Dog, I thought it was a perfect idea. Horowitz is a psychologist who focuses her study on animals, and this book explores dogs' perceptual and cognitive abilities and gives you a good idea of what it's like to be a dog.

So lovely to lie in bed together with Nicholas curled up against us or burrowed deep in the covers, and read about dogness. The book is illuminating but also written with a sweet, droll style--and thank you lord, not full of cutesy animal puns. I'd highly recommend reading it if you have a new dog, or otherwise. Here's a paragraph I really enjoyed:

"...Imagine if each detail of our visual world were matched by a corresponding smell. Each petal on a rose may be distinct, having been visited by insects leaving pollen footprints from faraway flowers. What is to us just a single stem actually holds a record of who held it, and when. A burst of chemicals marks where a leaf was torn. The flesh of the petals, plump with moisture compared to that of the leaf, holds a different odor besides. The fold of a leaf has a smell; so does a dew drop on a thorn. And time is in those details: while we can see one of the petals drying and browning, the dog can smell this process of decay and aging. Imagine smelling every minute visual detail. That might be the experience of a rose to a dog..."

the continuing adventures of nicholas c. o'dittle

When you're moving to a new home, there are lots of adventures to be had.

There's the initial discovery of this place. Running all around as soon as you're let down by the nice Indigo Rescue lady. This weird place with half-made paintings all over and questionable creatures lurking.



There's the scary moment when the Indigo Rescue lady leaves and you're left with these two strange people you don't really know. They talk to you in goo-goo voices and take you on a long walk in the neighborhood, but you don't pee. You're not sure you're ready for the commitment.

There's the trip to the big pet store for more supplies, and there's lots more exploring in the apartment and sitting in laps and being petted, and you think you're kind of starting to like these strange people.

The woman holds you and says, "Nicholas, Nicholas, Nicholas."

The man is very tall and he looks down at you and grins and says, "Dawg!"

They take you out on more walks. All along neighborhood streets full of Art Deco apartment buildings and up to the park. You don't hesitate anymore; you trot along fast and the tips of your ears make a tiny flopflopflop as you go.

But you don't pee. You're not sure you're ready for the commitment.

Around seven (you know this because you're a very sophisticated dog who can apparently tell time), the tall man who calls you Dog leaves to go to another store and get you a new blanket. The woman kind of wants to give you a blanket that was once used by someone named José, but the tall man who calls you Dog thinks you need your very own, new blanket. You agree with this. Not only are you your own man, but, well, these people have a little shrine to this mysterious José, with a book and a framed portrait and plastered paw prints and things, and you think that's a little odd.

You keep these thoughts to yourself.

You're glad the tall man who calls you Dog is the one who has gone out to do the shopping, because he's clearly the one for the job. He's the Adrian behind your new wardrobe with the dashing green collar and matching harness and leash.



You sit in the woman's lap while she taps at the computer and posts pictures of you for her friends and family to see, and you think this lap fits really nicely. Then the phone rings and it's the tall man, and he wants the woman with the lap to tell him the size of the bottom of your crate (which incidentally matches your wardrobe). As she measures it, you pee on the rug.

You are ready for a commitment.

There are more walks and more adventures. There's trying out different places to sit in this new place.



And discovering the doppelganger who lives in the mirror.

There's the first play.







There's watching the tall man do yoga in the morning.

waiting...

Things to do after work when you're [impatiently] awaiting word on adopting a new dog.

Step one. Call Mom and talk about dogs. Have her turn the phone over to Dad. Talk to him about computers. And dogs.

Step two. Get on the internet and read about dogs.

Step three. Try for about three minutes to work on writing.

Step four. Give up and get on the internet and read about dogs.

Step five. Make frozen pizza and watch a movie. Look through your collection for something that might be about dogs or at least heartwarming. Select White Heat.



Step six. Think, hmm, Cagney would make a great name for a Chihuahua.

names not to name your dog

When Stephen and I finally got serious about looking at dogs for adoption, we came across a tiny guy named QBall. He was one of a few we met yesterday, and though he was incredibly cute (and I fell a little in love at first sight as he was very meticulously trying to attack a bit of fluff out of the air), he was more energetic than would be good in our apartment.

As we browsed doggies online, we've tried to keep the renaming impulse in check because that's far too personal before you know a dog is actually going to be coming to live with you. But we couldn't help it with QBall. When I got José, I would have liked to rename him, but I figured two and a half years old was too old - it would be too confusing. I don't think that anymore, and... well... QBall.

It's just not our kind of name.

[can i say, i still think horatio is one of the best dog names ever...]

We couldn't help but play the rename game with QBall, wondering if there was something we could come up with that rhymed or sounded similar...

Screwball...

U-Haul...

Ru Paul...