Teach Physics To Your Dog? Gimme a Break

My mom reviews books for Amazon. Recently the Vine program sent her this book:

How To Teach Physics To Your Dog, by Chad Orzel.

As an author herself who now coaches book marketing, my mom was concerned about the book’s publication date. “This book would be the perfect gift for dog lovers,” she said. “It should have been on all the bookstore holiday tables. It’s a pretty good book. And the premise has that ‘aww……’ quality that sells gift books.”

As a dog, I like the intrduction. My mom read it to me. Apparently the author’s dog, Emmy, was in a shelter with a name of “Princess.” The dog interviewed Chad Orzel before agreeing to become his dog. “Do you have critters for me to play with?” she asked. “What about treats?”

Gee, I wish I’d thought of that. When the rescue society brought me to my mom’s apartment, they didn’t give us much time to get acquainted. I would have asked, “Will I be an indoor dog? Can I sleep on your bed? Wlll the couch be off-limits?”

My mom would have answered, “Yes, no and yes.” I would have turned her down flat. And look what’s happened. I have taken over the couch. I sleep on my own cushion on her bed.

So perhaps it’s just as well I didn’t interview my mom. She would have failed miserably. I would never have thought to ask, “Will I get to go to the dog park and run near the lake? Will I get healthy food and LOTS of treats? Will I get visits to the Downtown Dog Lounge where they treat me with the respect due a Canine Urban Princess? Will I have a fat fuzzy cat to tease and a skinny cat who keeps trying to make friends?”

And I’d never have asked, “Will I sit on your lap when we ride the bus?” After all, until i was adopted, I hadn’t even seen a bus.

All those things have contributed to my existence as a thoroughly spoiled dog, my mom would say. A properly appreciated dog, I would insist.

Emmy must be a pretty smart dog to learn physics. I have all I can do to watch my mom try to make cylinders in the pottery studio. So maybe Emmy knew the right questions to ask. I’m glad I didn’t. Sometimes you just have to take chances, my mom said. This time she was right.

My mom with some friends on Christmas Eve

My mom’s friends gave her a surprise Christmas present a few days ago. This is my mom with Sharon and Sharon’s kids, Kathryn and Kevin. My mom’s the un-photogenic one on the right, in the orange jacket.

Can you tell that Sharon, Kathryn and Kevin are all theatre majors?

My mom’s all bundled up in the orange jacket on the right (as if you couldn’t tell -she’s the least photogenic person in any picture). Her ears get cold so she never looks glamorous in winter. She’s got her eye on the Big Box which contains a really terrific present.: a soft throw blanket so we can curl up on the couch and stay warm. Sharon’s husband isn’t in the picture because he’s holding my mom’s camera.

I wasn’t invited. They went to a restaurant where dogs aren’t allowed. No problem. I don’t eat Thai food anyway. Not that I’d know. Do you really think my mom would let me anywhere near Thai food? Yeah, right.

Happy Holidays! Link to this funny video…

Check out this cool video. My mom says to tell you, “Click on this link. No embed options this time.”

OK, I saw the video. A bunch of dogs are decorating a Christmas tree. Would I do that? No way. I’d chew open the presents. The cats would knock over the tree. We would all eat pine needles. Forget it.

That looks like a LOT of work. The best part is at the end where the dogs are all sleeping.

Did they really decorate that tree? Lots of jump cuts in that video.

Dog asleep after romp in the park

And here I am, sound asleep after my afternoon romp in the park. I’m curled up on my mom’s bed, with all three comforters around me.

My mom thinks I’m really cute when I’m sleeping. “So peaceful,” she says. She doesn’t like to wake me up, except when it’s time to Go Outside before she goes to sleep herself.

The good part of my mom’s bed is that there are no cats around and not a lot of photo ops for my mom. Nothing much is happening. There are only so many ways a dog can sleep, even an adorable CUPPIE like me.

Mh mom feels good when she sees me sleeping. She says, “Good dog, Gracie! I’m glad you got enough exercise.” She worries that I don’t get  to run around enough. “A tired dog is a good dog,” she says, over and over.

Yeah, we heard it the first time.

Anyway, there’s not much to do around here when I’m not sleeping. There are only so many ways I can torture the cats. The fat Ophelia just runs and hides. The ditzy Creampuff just tries to play with me.

My mom says she feels sleepy just looking at this picture. She needs more sleep herself, I would say.

Dog Park Seattle: Great Place for Making Friends (Video)

Yesterday (Sunday) my mom took me to Regrade Dog Park in Seattle. The park was pretty busy. My mom said, “Well, we had about ten minutes of blue sky, so everybody came out to take advantage.”

I found a human to play with. This nice young man chased me all over the park. Yaay! I tried to scarf some food because he had some cheese, but he refused. Instead, we ran…and ran. My mom didn’t run. She followed me with her camera.

A little jagged, she says. “Now I understand what film makers mean when they talk about hand-held cameras.” See for yourself.

Now here’s a cat who knows her place

Strange to think that our ditzy Creampuff is the only family member who knows her place.

Creampuff recognizes a cat cushion when she sees one. My mom bought this cushion years ago. She can’t even remember when she got it but she thinks it’s from one of those “cats only” stores. Might have been the one in Tennessee when she was on a business trip. She really liked that store in Green Hllls mall and she went there when she attended conferences in Nashville.

Now of course it’s faded and worn but Creampuff still likes it. Thank goodness! One less contender for my favorite spot on the crowded couch.

City Dog Meets Rescued Cat (and loses place in family hierarchy)

Good grief…I was napping away on my favorite spot on my mom’s couch. All of a sudden my mom was running around, grabbing her trusty camera and snapping one photo after another.

“Oh no…that shows too much of the rug,” she said. “And that’s probably blurred. Just one more…hold it!”

What was all the fuss about?

“Gracie and Ophelia, you’re friends!” my mom exclaimed happily as she dashed around capturing our images over and over again.

Sigh. As usual, my mom overreacts. And she doesn’t get dog language.

See, here’s what really happened. I was on the couch, enjoying my peaceful sleep, on my couch cushion. It’s actually one of my mom’s very old pillows that finally gave up. So mom pulled off the pillowcase and gave it to me to protect her couch. It’s my cushion. Before I entered this household, the cats had their own cushion, decorated with paw prints, on top of the couch. We’re very territorial around here.

Well, Ophelia decided she likes my pillow cushion. Ophelia has not caught on to the hierarchy of this household. She arrived in July of 2008. I arrived in January of 2006. I have seniority. This cushion was there for me.

So while I was sleeping, Ophelia crept up and sat near me. She’s not snuggling. See how she’s sitting up straight? She’s sending a message.

Who would’ve thought life would turn out this way? Ophelia was officially declared “skittish” by the cat shrink my mom hired to help her get adjusted. (For the record, my mom got her money back…as well she should.) There was talk of having her “re-homed,” a fancy term for giving up on the old gal.

Well, Ophelia doesn’t lack in self-esteem. My mom wrote an ebook called Bragging101, to help humans who need to get comfortable about selling themselves. Ophelia could have been her co-author.

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.

Dogs contribute to human health…and here’s the evidence!

My mom Cathy interrupted my peaceful nap this morning. “Gracie, get over here!” she yelled. “I’ve been saying this for years.”

Okay, mom. I get off my mom’s bed and trot to the living room, wondering what could possibly be going on at this hour. After I assume my designated spot on the couch, my mom began to read this article from the New York Times

It seems that somewhere in Missouri, which I gather is far from Seattle where we live, a medical team conducted an experiment with 35 seniors in assisted living. Twenty-three were assigned human walking partners. Twelve lucky residents were assigned to walk dogs at a local animal shelter.

The human pairs didn’t do so well. They talked each other into quitting and staying home. Too hot. Too cold.

The dog walkers never faltered. They’d look forward to the outing at the animal shelter. They would leap off the bus, saying, “Where’s my dog?”

And here’s the good part (according to my mom). The dog walkers demonstrated increased fitness. Some were able to lose their canes and walkers. They increased their walking speed.

The good part according to me: More people recognize the value of dogs. Maybe we’ll see an end to those no-dog zones that keep me from accompanying my mom to coffee shops and libraries. We’re cleaner and better behaved than a lot of humans.

In Seattle Metro, where we can ride buses, the drivers always say, “That dog is a better passenger than most of the humans.”

True. I don’t have a cell phone. I’ve never done drugs. I just sit quietly on Cathy’s lap and collect pats and rubs from everybody who goes by. Most people smile when they see me.

Okay, legislators and rulers of the human world. It’s time to make a bigger place for dogs in everybody’s life and get more dogs out of that shelter. I bet if assisted living facilities offered dogs to the residents, their medical bills would go down.