24

habie, who doesn't flinch at oncoming traffic, doesn't hesitate before running to play with a pitbull, doesn't bat an eye when i force her to sit like a baby in my arms and sing modified rod stewart songs to her ("wake up habie, 'cause i think i got something to say to you . . ."), has finally met her match:

yellow leaves

unfortunately, below is a picture of my backyard

(and yes, i've considered raking.  but the leaves are all wet and rain is forecast for days to come.  so instead i kick a pathway and coax her with treats until she finally runs to the unfettered grass in the way back.  this is considerably unfun at, oh say FIVE IN THE MORNING)

23

 (or "there's no crying in dog training")

as anyone who reads this (if you are, sorry for the month-long hiatus!  i was lawyering up!) knows, i am not exactly a strong disciplinarian.  and within two seconds of meeting habie, it's clear that girl needs some schoolin'.  so we've enrolled in obedience classes.  the first one was two weeks ago, and thankfully there was a beagle who barked at his owner, so habie wasn't the worst by a long shot.  but we had to miss last week, since i was training/bingeing at half-price books up in lex, and so we drove up to tonight's class with some trepidation.  all right, fine:  flat-out fear.  which happened to be completely well-founded!  crazy beagle has been replaced by his much calmer sister.  all the others were heeling and sitting and about-facing like it was no biggie, while habie flat-out refused to sit on command, only choosing to put butt to concrete whenever i didn't ask.  and the dog trainer lady who runs the classes made at least five comments to the whole group about me missing last week, as if she was shaming me into attending without fail from here on out. 

the first "oh, glad to see you've made it this week"?  i let it go.  the next "well, we learned this last week, so she'll have to catch up"? i shook it off.  but the next and next and next ones just sort of sat there, and then she took the leash away from me, which only happens when the owner is a complete mess, and i stood there in the corner while habie trotted around in an ellipse.  and then i get the leash back, but habie's still refusing to sit, and that wasn't even something covered in last week's lesson and it's stuffy and i'm exhausted and then it's the end of class and dog trainer lady tells me (loudly, obvs) that i should "stay behind to learn what we all covered last week because habie definitely needs to catch up" and while all the other little stepford dogs line up to leave, i go against the wall and sit on the floor.  habes wants to sit in my lap because that's how we are, and i start feeling really really sorry for myself.  i had my first non-family visitors this weekend, and it was so great but when they left today, i remembered how much i like and miss having friends.  the making them part stresses me out, but once they figure out what a weirdo i am and still stick around?  golden. 

so i'm sitting on the floor trying to hold it together, and all of a sudden i start to lose it.  my eyes begin to fill with water and my nose starts running and i focus on running my hands up and down habie's back, staring at the cracks in the floor, thinking of how i've been to maximum security prisons before and been fine--anything to stop that hot flush of self-pity.  and now it's jasmine's turn to sit/stay at the door.  jasmine is the best behaved dog in the class and often gets used for demonstrations.  apparently she's a foster dog and her foster owners have only had her for a few weeks and she does everything perfectly and watches her owner like a hawk.  sometimes habie's right in front of jasmine, and i always get embarrassed when i try to get her to heel and she is insisting that she lie down and we have a brief, ugly showdown while jasmine sits patiently waiting for us to get it together.  while all the other dogs leave, jasmine waits in the corner in military precision.

of course jasmine does the sit/stay at the door without a flinch, and i can hear the dog trainer lady outside tell jasmine what a good dog she is.  and then she's talking to jasmine's foster owners about how well she's doing and how she's such a model dog and at this point i focus on scratching behind habie's ears even harder.  

and then, all of a sudden, i tune back in and realize what the dog trainer lady has just said:

"she'd be a great search and rescue dog.  we can put her to work after obama gets the world blown up and someone has to go through the rubble."

so thank you dog trainer lady.  you may have contributed to my tears, but you also helped dry them, because nothing turns me from pitiful to quietly righteous as much as hearing crazy.