Christmas 2007: Part the Second...Dog Days

Something about being here in Cherry Hill makes me soooooo sleeeepy. I came up to our room to read, but instead I seem to have passed out for like, two hours. I awoke with ruffle marks on my cheek and drool in my hair. What the fuck?

On my way back from the bathroom I noticed that I wasn't the only one executing a Christmas faceplant -- the door across the hall (Jen's room) is closed, too. But they have excuses -- pregnancy and meatball subs! I'm not pregnant, nor did I eat a big meatball sub, so why'm I so knocked out? The meatball subs were, I'm happy to say, my doing. I made a big pasta dinner last night. The Kowalski's seemed to like it. Sauce came out great, I must say. I told Jimmy to bring home torpedo rolls when he comes home for lunch. He did, and the leftover meatballs were, I'm sure, even better than they were last night.

Maybe I'm so knocked out because there isn't coffee every day here and my system is slowly decaffeinating. Most of Joe's family are decaf drinkers, only firing up the big coffee maker when Jimmy (the only other caffeine hound) is here for breakfast. I don't miss the coffee at all though, especially since I've been enjoying my awesome chai tea in the mornings. Maybe I should permanently switch.

Or maybe I'm knocked out from mental fatigue catching up with me -- see, since Joe's sister got here on Saturday we've all been spending the day totally keyed up. That's because Joe's sister brought "the dog" along for Christmas.

How can I explain "the dog"? Well. Jen and munk rescued him from the shelter. He's beautiful. He looks like a champion. He's a pit bull, cocoa-chip coat with a white ascot, bright black eyes and a finely shaped head. He's also very strong. He's protective of his family, which is wonderful. Essentially he's a great dog...in his own home.

However, this is not a social dog. A social dog is a dog with a sunny outlook, who thinks everyone is "friend" first until they prove otherwise and become "foe." A social dog is a friendly fella, willing to let kittens and children flop onto him and play with his ears. A social dog understands when it's "dog time" and when it's people time, and will lay quietly and snooze in the midst of a gathering. You know these dogs, they're everywhere! On Allston Street there's a massive rottweiler who launches from his porch to stand with two huge paws on the fence -- looks scary but as soon as he hears his name in a light, friendly voice ("hi Leo!") his whole demeanor changes from guard dog to lovable oversized goofball. That's a social dog.

THIS dog...well, you can't really play with him, per se, lest he get "too riled." You can't make a sudden movement or he'll jump up too. You can't pick up or hug a child in his presence -- he'll lunge against his leash and start barking his head off. He paces in nervous circles, he won't sit, he won't stay, and he won't tolerate being tied outdoors for more than three seconds before he lets loose with his huge, booming bark.

Essentially, Joe's poor sister has been tethered to this dog since Saturday!

Complication comes in the furry, yappy form of the resident dog, the aforementioned "world's cutest puppy." The Kowalski's have a dog now, a plume-tailed, foxy-faced little papillon. He's a little sweetheart. As befits his toy breed, he doesn't know he's tiny and has been teasing the big dog. As befits his dog-ness, he assumes that all the toys and treats on the floor are his!

You can imagine the logistics.

Maybe you can't.

Hooo...oh boy, I hear some extended family starting to arrive downstairs. I'd better get dressed...

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