Mom Neglects Dog and Makes Sneakers

shoes2forcharlie500As you can guess, I am a poor neglected dog. OK, so my mom is home all day almost every day. And I get to go running almost every week with my Uncle Jim, not to mention scarfing treats from the building manager and getting free massages from almost everyone in the neighborhood.

Since she moved to Philly. my mom has been SO busy she has less time for my blog and she’s out almost every night. (She recovers on the weekends.)

Here are some of the sneakers she’s been making in her ceramics classes at the Clay Studio. She’s gotten marginally better since I had to help her out at the studio in Seattle. But I think she’s found her groove.

My mom says sneakers are a symbol of freedom, especially for women. “When you feet are free, your spirit is free!” she says. “Who doesn’t associate sneakers with fun?”

Ahem. In case you haven’t noticed I get to skip the whole shoe thing with my paws.

But you’ll see photos of sneakers here. My mom has considered selling them online, which would mean more money for my treats. That’s a GOOD thing.

Notice how Pumpkin, our newest adopted cat, has nudged her way into the background, occupying center stage as usual. That’s because her food area has been turned into a sneaker display. Fortunately Pumpkin is so food-oriented she’d eat even if she just had three inches of space.

Dog to mom: Don’t give up your day job

It’s a good thing my mom is a pretty good copywriter (or so they tell me). As a potter, she’s not in the running. Here’s the pot she made before she took it off the wheel.

“See, Gracie, I’m getting better,” she said proudly. “It’s almost a cylinder, isn’t it?”

Well, I’m getting better at playing with my Santa toy. Do you hear me bragging?

At least it looks like I’m finally getting a new leash. Mom asked Aunt Sara what kind of leash to buy. Aunt Sara volunteers at the Animal Shelter. She will choose one for mom to benefit the Shelter and save my mom a trip. That’s a GOOD gift. But I bet my mom will end up making me a new food dish, at the rate she’s going.

Dog Plays With Santa Toy While Mom Attempts Pottery (Video)

My mom took me to the pottery studio again. She enjoys my company and (let’s not kid ourselves) says she doesn’t feel as guilty when I come along. “I hate leaving you alone in your crate,” she says.

Watching my mom make cylinders is SO boring. She has so little talent and so much motivation. I guess it’s the human equivalent of a dog with a bone..or a new toy.

Fortunately, my mom has begun to realize that I need to be entertained. Today she brought along the Santa toy that we got from my wonderful Aunt Sara. Now there’s someone who knows how to choose a dog gift! Maybe she’ll suggest a new leash to my mom next time. Is that a hint?

I’m having fun. It’s about as meaningful as my mom’s pottery activity, takes up a lot less space and doesn’t lead to a lot of misshapen objects that get foisted on her friends.

Gift Giving: Complicated for Humans, Easy for Dogs

My mom always gets frazzled about gifts. She agonizes over what to give someone. She debated with herself about a gift certficate for my favorite dog-loving neighbor who helped us out a few times this year: Amazon or Metropolitan Market? Finally she realized her neighbor has received packages from Amazon. Like, duh! It was the right decision.

Some gifts, she says, come easily. She always gives her hair stylist a gift certificate to Macrina Bakery, which is practically next door to the shop. This year she gave a few books to people because, she said, the books seemed to fit the recipients so perfectly.

But, she adds, “If I make a mistake, it’s no big deal. The books are currently stocked in bookstores. The recipients can sell the books to used book stores or re-gift them easily. Libraries will be happy to take them.”

This year she’s going a little off the deep end, in my canine opinion. She’s giving her own pottery to selected friends. A normal person with my mom’s talent level would bury those pieces somewhere deep, like in the dog park with old tennis balls. Not my mom. She’s showing them off as if she were a pro.

I adore my Uncle Lance (that’s not his real name, of course; he’s always in disguise) because he appreciates me so much. Recently he met my mom for coffee. “If Gracie’s with her sitter on Tuesday, we’d better meet Wednesday,” he said. “I don’t want to miss seeing Gracie.”

My mom needs more friends like Uncle Lance. Alas, she gave him the misshapen object you see in the photo. It’s one of her earlier works, when she was just getting started on the wheel this fall. She glazed it black because he one said he likes that color. Uncle Lance actually claimed he liked this object. He sent my mom this photo of the pot on sitting on his shelf. It’s only a few paw-lengths tall: about 4 to 6 inches, my mom says. So it won’t exactly jump out at people who visit Uncle Lance’s home and admire his good taste.

Humans are SO complicated. Dogs get treats, period. Of course, I’m still holding out for a new leash. My mom got a gift certificate from Macys. Does Macys carry leashes? Maybe if I chew up her gift card she’ll get the hint.

Dogs don’t get pottery: The cylinder quest continues

My mom continues her quest to learn to make cylinders. Today we went to the Community Center where Mom made 2 more cylinders…She’s up to 10 and says she’ll try to do two more. Luckily she didn’t bring her camera. You can have only so many photos of cylinders in the making before you start to wonder what’s going on.

Today we met a new pottery student, Candace. Candace has been studying for ten years and she’s accomplished. She really encouraged my mom: “Just keep doing it. It’s all about practice.”

Candace was really nice to me, too. She said it’s not surprising I like to be inside. “Gracie is a girlie-girl dog,” she said.

“Girly.” I like that. It’s true: I love wearing my bandannas and getting my nails done. I’m not too keen on costumes but I do like the way my fur shines up after a bath. And I’m not crazy about getting wet. When we walk home, I hop onto a ledge out of the rain.

“Girly.” I like it.

Hopefully my mom will make her twelve cylinders and move on to something else. She says she wants to make a pitcher next. I’d suggest a new dog dish, but I don’t think I want to eat out of a crooked bowl. The cats eat off paper plates How about a cat food dish, Mom? Nice project for next term.

After all this pottery work, we get…a cylinder?!

My mom says, “Pottery is wonderful because it makes no sense at all.”


She goes on, “I have no talent for pottery. I am not buildng on strengths. I’ll never be an accomplished potter. The world doesn’t need any more pots. It’s purely for its own sake.”

Really? That’s the way dogs operate. We just do what we enjoy. Humans make things complicated.

My mom was so excited. “I made a cylinder!” she exclaimed. “It’s practically even!” She showed it to Megan, an accomplished potter, who pretended to be impressed.

For this we had to come up all the way to the pottery studio? I could have chased a dozen tennis balls by now…about as useful as mom’s quest for a perfect cylinder.

“I’m getting fussy,” she said. “If it’s not even, I don’t keep it.”

Well, I’m pretty fussy about who and what I play with, too. Same thing.

Pottery Studio: Dog gets a break (all too short)

Mom asked her classmate Megan to take a picture of us. She’s wearing a pottery smock thing (they keep some hanging on the door and she just grabbed one). There’s where Mom was working.

“It’s a pottery wheel, Gracie,” Mom explained.

“It’s noisy,” I wanted to say. “This place is not fun for a dog. There’s a big thing that roars and gives off heat. There are all these shiny floors. Nothing for a dog to do.”

“Keesha, my first dog, used to sleep while I worked,” Mom said wistfully.

“Keesha was older,” I wanted to remind her. “Anyway, in case you haven’t noticed, I’m Gracie, your dog du jour.” Dogs get a little sarcastic when we’re bored.

“Isn’t this better than being home in your crate?” Mom said. “Look at all the attention you get.”

Maybe a tie vote.