pouty Weimermonsters, separation anxiety, and dog-owner apoplexy

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The good news is, everyone is still alive. Or, they were when I left the house.
Zoey came home from her boyfriend’s house last night, and faced the reality of the fact that Ernie is actually and truly here to stay. Thus far, her reaction has consisted mostly of a heavy glare from her couch & baleful looks in my direction, but I still suspect that much like Superfudge, she will at some point attempt to sell her new little brother for a quarter. Or possibly just some cheese.
Zoey really likes cheese.

What, you may ask, does a pouty Weimermonster look like?

yah. Exactly like that.

The problem is that ten years ago, Zoey was exactly like Ernie is now — an acute case of SeparationAnxietyDefCon5. And a decade later, she has her world, and she has her mommy, and she has no desire to share either of them with a teensy scrap of a mutt who also seems to want to follow her mommy around. So we had a chat and talked about the fact that Ernie needs a home just like she did a long time ago, but I think that’s only gotten us to the détente of tolerating his presence rather than accepting him as part of the family.


Meanwhile, Ernie is having his first full day of me not being around. I purposely left him alone yesterday a couple times while I went for a run & then did errands, but today’s the first time I’ve gone to work at Museum!Co. He realized that I was leaving like for real and didn’t intend to take him with me this morning and kinda freaked. Ernie bolted out the front door, went under the gate around our building, and dashed out to the sidewalk where, by luck of the draw, I’d been able to park every day this weekend except last night.

Not finding the car, he ran out into the street, almost got run over by a minivan, and then dashed up to Santa Monica Boulevard, with me finding that all the training in the world didn’t make me as fast as an 11.4lb cheagle as I busted after him yelling, “Ernie! Ernie no!”

Luckily for me, the high concentration of elderly Russian Jews in my neighborhood means that living across the street from a temple worked in my favor as they shuffled around on the sidewalk in an attempt to catch him, a group maneuver which thankfully slowed him down enough that he stopped by a tree and just shook, poor little scared guy. When I picked him up, he looked at me like, “Where’s the car? OMG, that so didn’t go the way that I thought it would!”

When we got back to the house, Zoey was sitting on the inside of the apartment fence with the dog equivalent of, “Way to go, dumbass” written all over her face.

I half-placed, half-tossed my little miscreant inside the front door, and Zoey walked by & nudged him in the side with her nose, which I suspect to be prelude to a canine conversation to that may begin with, “Look, I don’t know why you’re still here, but Mom would probably get upset if you die, and I like Mom, so let’s lay some sh*t down right now. First rule – this is where the food lives. Let’s just start with the importance of that and not run off and get dead, m’kay? Now do us all a favor & work on learning that. Also, while I can only physically inhabit one at a time, both couches are mine. At all times. Just so we’re clear.”

I got Ernie bundled down, picked up the backpack and lunch bag which had gotten tossed on the front steps in the sprint start portion of my morning, and started walking to my car that was two blocks away thanks to the fact it was Valentine’s Day last night and I live near several restaurants and bars. I used that time to

  1. call my dogwalker & explain that Ernie is under no circumstances to be allowed out of the house without his leash
  2. remind myself of some of Zoey’s more interesting adjustment periods and take comfort in the fact that this new dog is already fixed & far less likely to eat a book on Russian History, or a wooden rocking chair, or the walls.

Please god – considering my landlord’s standards of building maintenance, I hope the hell he doesn’t try to eat the walls.

Music: She is Love – Parachute (Losing Sleep) Losing Sleep (Deluxe Edition) - Parachute

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