Pee

Forgive me if my subject is the puppy again. She takes up a lot of my time because 1) she's so adorable to watch and play with, and 2) the world is a big chew toy for her. This morning at five a.m. she was raring to play or, if not to play, then to chew. On a coffee-table book about the Musée d'Orsay or, when I took that away, on the coffee table. Her teeth are tiny white baby teeth, not strong enough yet to cause irreparable damage to the furniture, at least. But I can tell by the way she savors the plant table (one piece of furniture I spent real money on) that she is developing her palate. Testing....

Ice cubes are underrated. They're free, readily available, and puppies can either chase them like a hockey puck or chaw on them like a jawbreaker. The dollar store has a variety of dog toys for--oh!--one dollar each. A cardboard box from the recycling is distracting. All of these are prime chewable objects, but the trouble is that each one only lasts about 15 seconds. That's pretty steep entertainment value even for the dollar store.

One inimitable, priceless chewable object is Juno's sister, Lucy. By the same token, Juno is Lucy's chewable object. One or both of them is going to have a pierced ear. I think a pirate ring might be appropriate.

I take Juno outside about every three minutes. I praise her when she pees as though she's discovered unobtainium. But still, there are puddles ink the house. On the door mat. In the hall. At a random spot on the wood floor. Hey! I just watched you pee outside! I praised you like you discovered a new freaking planet! You woke me up at five o'clock and made me play with you, and you owe me!

Ah, you clever thing. Your cuteness. It's your only and unassailable defense. Why don't you gambol and make my heart feel light. Run to me and let me put my face in your furry fluffiness. We'll try again tomorrow, but right now I need to go to bed.