My Dog is Chelsea

At my last job, I had a mantra: Like water off a duck’s back.

I would repeat it whenever necessary:

Boss: I need [something impossible or vaguely unethical] by [unreasonable due date].
Me: That’s not possible.
Boss: Make a few phone calls and see if it can become possible.

Like water off a duck’s back. Like water off a duck’s back.

Me: I do not understand why this form wasn’t approved.
Form Approver: You didn’t use the correct version.
Me: It was the correct version when I downloaded it from your website.
FA: Well, we’ve since uploaded a new version.
Me: OK—but the new version only has one question that is different. It’s a 23-page form—it seems silly to go through and fill out an entirely new one. Can’t I just submit a memo to address the specific change?
FA: We require the new form. But, if you want to make an exception, you will have to fill out this other form and submit it with your memo, plus two copies of the wrong form you shouldn’t have used.

Like water off a duck’s back. Like water off a duck’s back.

Then I found a much better job and no longer required a mantra, so it went by the wayside. That is, until I got a dog.

My updated mantra is: Every day is an adventure.

Yesterday’s adventure involved a half pound of baking chocolate and a late-night (and very expensive) trip to the emergency vet. She and Hanu (who I am dogsitting) are both fine, but are getting a healthy dose of liquid charcoal every 8 hours. And why was the chocolate in a doggy-accessible place, you ask? Well—I had no idea that the top of the refrigerator was fair game. Apparently, either this dog can jump to the moon or she’s learned how to use the stove as a step stool.

Will I come home to find shredded recycling all over the house? Rolled oats scattered on the living room floor? The coat rack knocked atop of giant piles of diarrhea? It’s anyone’s guess—because every day is an adventure.

But what is life without adventures?

This week, we’re dogsitting Or, more aptly: Hanu is babysitting Calla, left. It is helping—she is already calmer.

Two peas in a pod. Two lab/hound mixes in a dog bed.

This is how long it’s been since I’ve cleared out my didge: this was the first photo on there when I plugged it into the computer tonight. I took this back in January ‘07, during Chelsea’s last snowfall (and the only one I’ve ever seen in Oregon).

MDIC and the Stink, awaking from a nap on the couch. This was one of our last days together.

It’s late and I only slept 4 hours last night. Must go to sleep. Thank you for all of your suggestions for how to calm Calla. It’ll be a tough road but I know she’ll be fine.