Rubber ducky, you’re the one…

You make bath time lots of fun. Rubber ducky, I’m awfully fond of you, do, do, do, do, do!

The great joy while waiting to see if the publisher of my choice will accept my book, before I start searching for another, is that for work, I have only to keep up my social media writing such as this blog entry.

I can read, and highly recommend the last two books I have been reading: Tell Me That This Never Happened by Jenny Lawson-a laugh out loud book that takes a few chapters, well about a quarter of the book really, before you find out it’s wicked funny. Before I start her next book, I am reading Senator Al Franken’s book: Al Franken, Giant of the Senate. This book is funny also, because Franken was a comedian for so long, that he can’t help but see some of the senate idiocy from a humorous point of view. It’s pretty up to date with regard to what’s going on in DC.

I also cherish my time with Ivy. We went to the dog park this morning, and a boxer attacked her. The boxer, a service dog for her human’s mother, serves as a “balance dog” for the mom’s MS. The dogs worked it out, and more doodles arrived, so it was a doodle Woodstock with a boxer thrown in the mix.

I had left a message for my groomer, April, whose shop is closed Mondays. I got a call back from Heather, Frank’s stylist, and she says she does doodles as well. I guess there’s quite a bit of knowledge to have to properly style a doodle. Ivy already has an appointment for the day of her Canine Good Citizen test, but I wanted another one. I can give her a shower, but doing her coat is another thing. She is rather like a giant mat right now with two eyes, a nose, and a smiling mouth. Heather said she could take Ivy next Monday, the third of July, when the shop, Spa 4 Paws, is usually closed. She didn’t want to get behind because of the 4th, and she would be there Monday. We will come up with some sort of plan to style Ivy. Too short, and she’s too poodly. Too long, and she is a giant mass of matted hair. She looks like a fat sheep, but if you hold her hair in on her sides, you get half a sheep in appearance.

Ivy has gotten used to the choke chain, although she nearly killed me today running me to the door of my friends’ house.

Because she did such a crappy job during CGC class last Tuesday at Home Depot, even though she was perfect two days earlier, I pondered taking her to drop-in obedience this evening. Then, I decided to save a few bucks and just go back to Home Depot. It was cooler there, anyway, and we are expecting mid-90’s tomorrow.

Anytime I take my dog where only people should be, I ask permission. Even though all of  Canine Learning Center classes use Home Depot for “off campus” practice, I still ask. The checker I asked was a wild woman with bright eyes, and clearly a person happy with her job and the people she helps. I asked her if she would like to pet Ivy while I held her collar. The woman went nuts on me and told Ivy, “You go crazy, girlfriend, be wild, have fun.” Ivy laughed her head off as she did what she was told. Yes, dogs laugh-hard. They also can text, “LOL,” but that’s for another time.

Ivy and I practiced healing and shopping, stays, turns, the whole megillah. I found that in a mostly empty store with long aisles, I could put Ivy on a stay, sit or down, walk well away, and wait. She was perfect, and when finally called, did her usual jump in the air, run to me at top speed, and jump to a sit. Then she “finishes” when told, which means going behind my back to return to heel position sitting down for a nice treat.

It was still early to go home, so I called Diane from the car (all handless) and said Ivy had a present for Logan, the little Yorkie who needed re-homing due to a move up in the mountains where he would have been a great meal for a roving eagle. The toy, a fuzzy yellow duck that quacks when bitten, was a great hit with Logan and Ivy. Sol, Diane and Darell’s little poodle, not so much. Sol, pronounced “Soul,” has taken possession of Logan, and just watched.

Ivy also had fun running in the yard. We do not have a back yard, so she ran like a little maniac on the grass, diving into its fragrant softness. I spied a circular sprinkler on the lawn, and asked Diane if she would turn it on. OMG! My doodle went nuts! She ran circles around it, getting wet, drank from it, and spent a long time getting soaked. I doubt the grass got watered at all. The three of us humans drank iced tea and watched all three dogs doing maniacal canine deeds. I think Ivy took the prize for “the dog that will never be allowed inside Diane’s house again.” At this time, she is still outside. We left for home via a gate out of the yard instead of going through the house. That dog was dripping wet. All that hair I was worried about had disappeared into droplets of sopping curls. I put her directly outside, where she fell asleep in the delightful summer evening. She just now barked, once, so I went down to put her to bed. Her hair is mostly dry, so I’ll spend tomorrow trying to brush it out. At least it will look clean for class tomorrow night if we can stay away from the dog park.

 

 

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