According To Lola

Lola's First Camping Trip

2009-02-17T21:55:00.004-06:00

For Valentine's Day, Lola's Daddy and I went out to Enchanted Rock to camp for the night. Enchanted Rock is a big pink granite dome, one of the largest batholiths in the United States. We had both been there before, although not together, so it seemed like a good place to go for our first camping trip together, not to mention Lola's first camping trip ever! (As far as we know.) It's just about 90 minutes from Austin (if I'm driving) and about two hours from Austin (if Lola's Daddy is driving). Plus you can goof off in Fredericksburg, and also you're right in the thick of the Texas Wine Country, so there are lots of places to stop and do wine tastings.

We borrowed a tent from one of Lola's Daddy's friends. It was frikkin ginormous. You could have slept ten people in that tent. If they were friendly. Here is me and the tent.

Here is our rockin' awesome camp site. (A camp site is, obviously, a tent plus a picnic table.)

Lola's Daddy got me bowling shoes for Valentine's Day and I think they're awesome. I must be madly in love with him.

At Texas State Parks, dogs have to be on a leash at all times. I brought some twine to tie Lola up so she'd have more freedom of movement. As you can see, she used the extra length to good advantage:

Then I got a photo of her in mid-nose-lick. OMG TOTAL ADORABLE MELTINGNESS.

As you can see, the Texas Hill Country is beautiful. I really love it. It is sparse and bare and rugged, and not at all pretty in the conventional sense, but we both think it is wonderful. And it's right in our back yard! The is the back side of Enchanted Rock. The teeny tiny dots on the downward slope are people rock-climbing.

Also, Texas is very flat.

Have I mentioned how rugged and sexy Lola's Daddy is? Just look at that profile.

Then when we got to the top of Enchanted Rock, we both remembered what we had forgotten -- it is windy up there! Lola's Daddy got Wolverine hair.

We actually couldn't find our way down for a while. But we finally made it. I think I look cute here.

Naptime

2008-10-21T17:59:00.004-05:00

Hi, I'm Lola. Obviously, everything within my reach belongs to me. Including this pet bed. Once upon a time it belonged to Lottie. Later it came to Austin to belong to Banzai. But now it's mine.

Yeah, so I have a frog in my mouth. So what? You wanna make something of it? Huh? Huh?

With Apologies to Jeff

2008-10-13T20:07:00.003-05:00

Today I had dinner with a dear friend of mine, who I will not identify, except to say that he really needs to update his blog, and his name is Jeff.

And on the way over to the restaurant, I thought about how they don't allow dogs on their patio. I was thinking about this because every time I leave the apartment without her, Lola does this on the glass patio door:

The picture truly does not do it justice. It ought to be a video, so that you can see her frantically scrabbling her front paws against the door. Her paws go takka-takka-takka-takka-takka-takka on the glass, and I swear, one day I'm going to come back and find claw-shaped gouges in the door, at exactly her height.

Last time Jeff and I had dinner at this restaurant, I called ahead and asked if they allow dogs on their patio. They don't. At dinner, I asked our waiter why not (and that's a story in and of itself). However, in the course of the conversation, he did mention that sometimes people sit on the patio, at a table next to the wrought-iron fence, and their dog sits on the other side of the fence.

On the other side of the fence? Excuse me? What if she needs some water? What if she needs me to scratch her ears? What if she needs tummy rubbles? The very idea is repellent. I am not going to treat my dog like a second-class citizen. If Lola can't sit on my lap, I'm not bringing her.

So as I drove to meet Jeff at the restaurant, I couldn't help but indulge in this little fantasy:

(Lola and I sit down at a table by the fence. Lola is, of course, well-behaved and adorable.)

Waiter: I'm sorry, you can't bring a dog in here.

Me (giving him a withering glare): Excuse me?

Waiter: I'm sorry. We don't allow dogs.

Me: And why's that?

Waiter: Sorry, I don't know. It's just the policy.

Me: Oh? Oh, it's the policy. I'm sorry, I thought you had a rational reason for not allowing my small and well-behaved dog to sit under my chair for the next hour.

Waiter: I'm sorry, ma'am, but you can't have the dog in here. If you want, you can have her on the other side of the fence.

Me (standing up with scornful dignity): I'm sorry, young man, are you suggesting that I enjoy a meal and a few drinks while my dog waits on the other side of the fence?

Waiter: Um. Yes?

Me: And this is -- let us be perfectly clear -- not because of any particular reason, but because of your policy?

Waiter: Look, lady, I don't make the rules...

Me: Are you aware that we are in Austin?

Waiter: Geez, lady...

Me: Ladies and gentlemen! (I stand on my chair and tap a wine-glass with a fork.) I apologize for interrupting your evening, but I must ask -- are any of you allergic to dogs?

(The crowd looks at each other in confusion.)

Me: Are any of you frightened of dogs?

(A few calls of "No" and "No way" from the crowd.)

Me: Ladies and gentlemen, humans of all races and creeds, I would like to introduce you to -- Lola! (I hold Lola aloft. She charms the crowd with adorableness. There are a few scattered cheers.)

Me: My friends (really warming up to the John-McCain-Town-Hall vibe now), my friends, this is Lola. A few short months ago, Lola was lost and alone. No one loved her. Her own family allowed her eye to become so infected that the SPCA had to surgically remove it!

(A few boos, one guy shouts "Let's lynch 'em!")

Me: No, no, we don't need any of that. We're running a clean campaign here. But I just want you to take a good look at Lola. She's loved, she's well-fed, she's healthy. And she is so grateful to have a good home. She's nothing but loving and kind. She's no trouble at all.

(Pause for dramatic effect. A few of the women go, "aww.")

Me: And now, these corporate big-wigs want to make Lola stay outside the fence. Can you believe it? This small, inoffensive dog, who has been through so much in her short life, and she has to stay outside. Not because of any particular reason. Not because the owner dislikes dogs. But just because of policy. Ladies and gentlemen, it's time to take a second look at our policies. I saw Lola's mother die while she fought with the insurance companies to try to prove that her cancer wasn't a pre-existing condition, and that was because of policy. Not for any real reason, no -- in fact, my friends, no one here can give us a single real reason. It's because of policy. It's because that's the way it is. I don't know about you, but I'm tired of following the meaningless rules that other people set for us! I'm tired of letting the corporate fat-cats boss us around! It is time for some change! Change we can believe in!

(The crowd goes wild, they're all applauding, half of them are on their feet. A few of them give a wolf-whistle at me, which I acknowledge with a wink.)

Me: Ladies and gentlemen, we can't put up with this kind of obsolete regulation any more. We need more oversight of these corporations so they can't play merry hell with our stock market like the last two weeks. It's time for a full-on, grand-scale reworking of how we do things around here. We've had eight years of dogs not being allowed on this patio -- we don't need another four!

(The crowd is beside themselves now, throwing confetti, popping champagne, throwing their panties at me.)

Me: If you believe, as I do, that we can truly change America for the better, then you know what to do. Change starts at home. It might not be fun. It might not be easy. But we should all bring our dogs to restaurants with patios, and refuse to put them outside the fence!!!

(Massive cheers and hoopla.)

Me: And if those corporate big-wigs try to tell you about the rules, you just tell them this: look, buddy, George Washington didn't freeze his ass off in Valley Forge for us to sit around arguing over whether my lapdog can be in my lap, or two feet away from me!!!

(More cheering. A few girls chant, all together, "We love you, Lola!")

Me: Black and white, Sunni and Shiite, Christian Scientist and Pentecostal -- we all need to come together, now! It's time to stop the hate! Let's make the world a better place!

(A few more cheers.)

Me: Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I'll be sitting down now, to enjoy my sake bomber and california roll. AND LOLA WILL BE ON MY LAP!!!

(The crowd is going insane. I sit down demurely, smooth down my skirt, set Lola on my lap, and smile at the waiter.)

Me: I'm sorry, you were saying?

The Perfect Hot Dog

2008-10-10T18:05:00.002-05:00

Ellie has been wowing the internet with her incredibly detailed and thoughtful posts on recipes for everything from chili (in all its variations) to fig tarts.

Me, I'm happy when things don't explode in the microwave.

But tonight, I simply have to share my recipe for The Perfect Hotdog, probably better known as The Hot Dog For Poor Austinites.

Ingredients:
One slice from a loaf of 99 cent HEB wheat bread (what are we, rich?)
One "Smart Dog" brand vegetarian hot dog made of seasoned tofu (what are we, omnivores?)
One slice of Kraft American Cheese, which tastes like plastic, and which we are guilty about buying (what are we, pro-big-corporations?)

Directions:
- Set oven to Broil. Move assorted plastic grocery bags off the range, where they have been dumped, so they don't melt into the top of the oven.
- Arrange the tofu dog diagonally on the slice of bread, then top with the slice of cheese.
- Wait a few minutes for the oven to heat up. Occupy this time with a glass of wine.
- Put the layered bread/hotdog/cheese concoction on the middle shelf of the oven.
- Go start another episode of 30 Rock on Netflix.
- Suddenly remember about the hot dog when you can smell it burning.
- Frantically look for oven mitt amongst the non-melting grocery bags. Turn off oven. Find oven mitt and pull the middle oven shelf out. Burn right forearm on the oven door.
- Look in fridge for ketchup. Curse self for not buying ketchup when at the grocery store yesterday.
- Consider what the essential element of ketchup is. Decide that essential element is salt. Notice a bottle of soy sauce.
- Splash soy sauce over the tofu-dog-on-cheap-bread-covered-in-cheap-cheese.
- Enjoy.

No, really, enjoy. It's actually pretty awesome. I might just make myself another.

The Menagerie Takes a Trip

2008-10-09T16:51:00.003-05:00

Earlier this week, we had to take both Banzai and Lola over to Lola's Daddy's house.

Lola, being a dog, travels in the car much better than Banzai does. So the concept was that Lola's Daddy would have Lola on his lap, and I'd have Banzai on my lap.

That concept didn't last very long.

What the menagerie wanted, apparently, was for Lola to be on my lap, gazing adoringly at me, while Banzai was also on my lap, gazing anxiously out the window.

You'll notice that Lola keeps pretty much the same position through these photos, while Banzai is all over the place. And this is for a trip that's just barely over a mile.

Yeah, I guess the animals don't really have a problem with each other.

Although by this point Banzai was yowling. He's really not a fan of being in the car.

But hey, look -- peaceful co-existence.

Lola's Daddy had been taking these photos at stoplights. (Secretly I think he was a bit miffed that neither of the animals wanted to sit on his lap.)

At the end of the trip, I said, "This will make a great blog post."

And he said, "Hon, that's great, but some of those photos are all about your boobs."

Shamelessly Self-Indulgent Close-Up Photos

2008-10-05T22:37:00.001-05:00

Getting photos of Lola can be hard. I know, I know -- you're all thinking, "My goodness, JJ, the photos you post to this blog are so pristine, so artistic, so amazing, surely Lola is just the most photogenic dog in the world!"

Well, I'm sorry to say it, but you're wrong. Lola is practically allergic to the camera. She'll be lying there, fast asleep, looking all adorable, and I'll grab the camera and turn it on. And as soon as it goes "Boodely-ding!" she instantly comes over to sniff the camera lens.

The other day she was sitting on my lap, and I had the camera to hand, and I actually managed to get a few shots.

Profile, complete with hair-bow after being groomed:

Mournful sideways-look.

Full-on look of, "What? What? Stop making fun of me for having this stupid hairbow in!"

And then finally, "Oh, hey, it's the camera! Camera camera camera! I MUST COME SNIFF YOU."

Sloppies

2008-10-05T22:20:00.002-05:00

Rawhide is a tricky thing.

Firstly, there's the health issue. There are plenty of people think that rawhide chews are very bad for dogs and also make them throw up. Lola hasn't seemed to be badly affected by them, but it's something to keep in mind.

Secondly, there's the gross-out factor. Regular, cheap rawhide rapidly disintegrates into a disgusting, smelly white mush. This is why Lottie's parents call them "sloppies." This is also why Lottie doesn't get rawhide treats any more. Better-quality compressed rawhide is a bit less nasty, but not by much.

Thirdly, there's the animal-rights angle. I'm vegetarian; hell, I was even vegan for a year. And rawhide is, indisputably, compressed dried animal skin. And even though it doesn't make much sense intellectually, emotionally, there's a difference between giving your dog animal-based food out of a can and giving your dog animal skin to enthusiastically gnaw on.

All of this is a very round-about way of saying that I gave Lola a compressed rawhide bone tonight. I've only let her chew on one once before, a few months ago, when I hadn't had her for very long and her habits with treats were much more protective and anxiety-driven. She seemed to enjoy it, but wasn't obsessed, and I was worried about the health issues and took it away after ten minutes or so.

So far tonight, Lola has chewed on this particular rawhide bone constantly. Without stopping. For over ninety-two minutes. I knelt down beside her, to see how much headway she had made on devouring the bone, and she gave a small growl and darted under the bed. With the bone in her mouth, of course.

I bet she throws up later tonight. This is what I get for feeling guilty about being at work all day.

P.S.: She moved! I was able to see the bone! All the crunching sounds completely overrated her progress. One end is slightly gnawed off, that's all. Wuss.

P.P.S.: Still, I don't fancy my chances of taking it away from her. This is a girl on a mission.

Lola's Favorite Toy

2008-10-01T14:44:00.004-05:00

I have tried to give her other, similar toys, but what Lola loves beyond reason is this horrifically neon-green frog. She plays fetch with it, chews on it constantly, and often falls asleep with her teeth firmly embedded in its fuzzy skin.

But as this photo makes clear, Froggy is having some back problems.

So Froggy and Teddy got taken to the operating table today.

Teddy, nearing the end of his operation.

The happy patients, fully recovered. I sewed them up with nylon thread. We'll see how long it lasts.

Velveteen Doggie

2008-09-30T21:57:00.003-05:00

Today I took Lola to get the second haircut since she's been with me. Since it's forty-seven bucks a pop, I try to leave it as long as I can between haircuts, and then get it cut as short as I can without her looking completely ridonkulous. The girls at Petsmart were really nice and agreed to pose for before and after pictures.

Before:

After:

They gave her pink bows with green dots to match her collar :-D

Right after a haircut, Lola becomes what I call the Velveteen Doggie. Her coat is short and soft, with no curl, and it's like stroking velvet.

Here is a picture of Lola eating, because that's the only time I could get her to stand still. Her head looks ridiculously huge compared to the rest of her body.

Of course as soon as the camera flashed she came towards me. She has an odd fascination with the camera. Also, did you know that Lhasas are prone to having problems with being bow-legged? I guess I'm really fortunate that Lola doesn't seem to be affected!

I'm ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.

Evolution of a Cat Nap

2008-09-30T21:39:00.003-05:00

Stage One:
Hi, I just wandered over to sniff your purse. Which you can't see because my big fat body is in front of it.

Stage Two:
Yawn.

Stage Three:
What are you lookin' at?

Stage Four:
Excuse me while I lick my butt for a moment.

Stage Five:
Hello again, purse.

Stage Six:
Ah, much better. As you were, everyone. Carry on.

In Memoriam, with the greatest respect

2008-09-27T22:32:00.003-05:00

My dog books say that you should 'train' a dog for ten or fifteen minutes a day.

The books lie. What they actually mean is that you should pretend to train your dog for ten or fifteen minutes a day. The evidence:

Me: Want to see Lola do a trick? She knows Sit and Dance.

My Mom: That's two tricks.

Me: No, it's not. I've been teaching them together.

My Mom: Maybe she would learn them better if you taught them separately?

Me: Oh yeah? Lola -- sit!

[Lola sits and I give her a treat.]

Me: Now you tell me how to get her off her ass so I can reward her for Sit again.

[Lola, still sitting, watches me intently. She is clearly not going to move. Having her butt on the floor means a treat. She is not going to jeopardize the possibility of more treats by doing anything other than Sit. As my mother put it, she could sit for Britain.]

Me: See? This is why I have to do two at once. Lola -- Dance!

[Lola remains sitting.]

Me: Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance! Dance!

[Lola jumps up onto her hind legs and I give her another treat.]

Me: Good girl! Dance!

[Lola sits.]

Lola is a big fan of Sit. Sitting gets her a treat, setting gets her harness on so she can go outside, sitting gets her brushed. You'd think she'd also be a fan of Dance, since I make her do it before I give her food, but apparently not. Tonight, I randomly alternated Sit and Dance commands while using Lucky Charms as treats. She chose Sit as her initial response every time.

And I couldn't help but think, "What we have here, is a failure to communicate!"

A New Nickname

2008-09-27T21:55:00.003-05:00

People have told me that a dog should have two names: the first, a meaningless nickname that you don't need the dog to respond to, and the second, an actual 'command name,' the word which precedes each command, so that the dog knows she's supposed to pay attention.

My last roommate did this. Her dog was technically named Jackson, but she called him Pickle most of the time. Oddly enough, Pickle turns out to be a rather fitting eponym for a blonde Chihuahua-Rat Terrier mix.

But I've never managed to make this concept work with Lola. She's mostly just Lola. After all, when I was choosing her name, I deliberately picked one that was fun to say. And although she has a few other nicknames -- Silly Little Girl, Scruffbucket, Ragamuffin, Princess Poo-Face the Second -- those tend to be the kind of nonsense words you say when you're doing tummy rubbles.

But yesterday, Lola managed to earn herself a new nickname. Internet, I present to you a play in three acts, entitled: "Lola: A Play About A Nickname."*

ACT ONE:

Lola awakens in an incredibly energetic mood. I decide to take her out to Walnut Creek before breakfast so she can burn off some steam. We drive up there and do the mile-long hike we enjoy, and meet up with an older gentleman named David and his two medium-sized dogs. Lola pretends that she is part of their pack, even though it's clear she doesn't have a chance of keeping up with them. We have a nice outdoorsey forty-five minutes. I think that I've tired her out a bit.

ACT TWO:

I get a phone call from my apartment complex. "Hi. Did you call in to report that your breaker blew, and all the power is out except for your kitchen?" "Why yes, yes I did!" "Well, our maintenance guy is over there now to try to fix it, but there's a problem with your dog. She won't let him in."

She won't let him in. A thirteen-pound Lhasa-Poo is keeping a grown man at bay. She is adorable and fluffy. She is the complete opposite of threatening. But apparently, in my absence, she takes her protector duties very seriously. My dog rocks.

I manage to swing by home before work so that the maintenance guy can flip the right breakers. "Yeah, she really didn't like me being here before," he says.

ACT THREE:

I now have to leave for work. I give Lola a Teenie Greenie to occupy her while I slip outside. Despite this distraction, she darts out the door the moment it opens more than an inch -- I swear, I did not think the door was open enough for her to fit through it -- and she then prances around and around my car. You could practically hear her singing "Chitty-chitty-bang-bang, we love you!"

Since I was (of course) already late for work at this point I put on my most commanding voice. "LOLA. LOLA COME. LOLA COME. I MEAN IT. LOLA COME. Goddammit--" as she prances behind the car again. "LOLA COME!!!"

Eventually she did actually obey me, whereupon I tossed her back into the apartment without ceremony, saying, "That's right, and you stay there, you -- you Snickerdoodle!"

I have no idea why I called her a Snickerdoodle. The best explanation I have is this:

- Cookies are my favorite sweet dessert-type food. Forget cake, pie, brownies, anything. Cookies are the best. I had one of those big cookies from the Great American Cookie Co as my birthday cake for at least four years that I can remember.
- Snickerdoodles are a crappy kind of cookie which I do not actually enjoy. They suck. It's because of the cinnamon. Cinnamon is a stupid spice and I have never met a Britisher who enjoyed it. Even my Scottish roommate refused cinnamon gum.
- So it's sort of like saying, "I really love you lots and lots, but right now you are being really annoying!"

Or, as Lola's Daddy pointed out, possibly it's just because it rhymes with poodle.

Anyway, Lola can now be referred to as the Snickerdoodle. But probably only when she's been a bit naughty.

*Ellie, you would be the only one to get this incredibly inane reference, except that the play happened my freshman year. It was a decent play. One of Phillip's weirder set creations.

You Want What?

2008-09-21T21:25:00.002-05:00

A young guy, maybe twenty years old, asks if we have a certain book. I walk over to the right section with him and we look -- nope, sorry, we don't have it, thanks for trying us, would you like to call our other locations because we all have a different inventory, thanks so much.

And then he says, "Where can I find wood?"

"Wood?"

"Yeah."

"Actual wood. Not a book called wood."

"Yeah."

"So, not something that we would have in this store."

"No. Real wood. We're going camping. We're from Dallas. We're going camping at [stupid campsite] and when we called they said there wasn't much firewood around."

"Well, there's a Home Depot a few exits down the freeway."

The punk has the nerve to say, skeptically, "And they'd have wood? That you could use for a fire?"

No, but I have a back-stock of paperbacks that you are welcome to use as kindling. I have officially run out of patience. "I don't know. Where would you go for firewood?"

"Walmart?"

"I don't live near here. I don't know where the closest Walmart is. Do you want me to google it?"

And then a customer chimes in. "There's a Walmart one exit up the freeway. What are you looking for?"

"Firewood. Wood chips."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I mean, it's the end of the summer in Texas. Maybe you should try Home Depot?"

Boo-yeah. I totally win.

The Difference Between Cats and Dogs: Part 1

2008-09-21T20:50:00.002-05:00

To set the scene: I'm sitting in bed, Lola is sprawled out on the kitchen linoleum, and Banzai is curled up on my rollaboard.*

If I get up, Lola will immediately jump to her feet, tail perked up, head tilted to the side, looking at me expectantly, as if to say, "What? What? Are we going somewhere? Am I getting food? Do you want to play? Do you want to pet me? What's happening now? This is so exciting!"

Banzai will lift his head and cautiously open one eye, as if to say, "Woman, I'm nice and cozy, and you better not bother me."

It's nice to have one of each.

*I had to google how to spell rollaboard. My parents are English. I always thought it was Roller-Board. Which, come to think of it, doesn't make much sense.
** I also read Nancy Drew novels before I had ever heard the word "alibi," so I thought it was pronounced "uh-LIE-bee" until about tenth grade.
*** For the benefit of Lola's Daddy: my rollaboard is my brown suitcase-thing, on wheels with a handle. That is the name for this newfangled kind of equipment.

Can't Trust Those Stereotypes

2008-09-21T20:48:00.001-05:00

Today, a tall, beefy guy in a Detroit Lions football jersey bought "Opera 101: A Complete Guide To Learning and Loving Opera."

A Handy Checklist for Retail Shopping

2008-09-20T18:39:00.000-05:00

As Ellie pointed out in the comments of the last post, I haven't updated my blog in almost a week. Egad! For a few days, I was spending my writing-time on other stuff, and then I spent the last two days up in Dallas with Lottie and her parents. Internet, I offer you my most profound apologies.

With that out of the way, allow me to share a list I've created since I started working at Fifty Percent Literature. This is the Retail Shopping Checklist, Suitable For Use When You Are Shopping At A Retail Store And There Is A Long Line Behind You.

CELL PHONES

- Don't be on your cell phone. PERIOD. If the call is important, step out of the line. If the call is not important, then when it is your turn to check out, simply say, "I have to check out now. I'll call you right back." This is not a difficult concept.

- Don't be on your cell phone. EVER. I mean it. It's degrading to feel like the person who's not even here is important, while I am not. Do not devalue your fellow human beings in this manner. I will retaliate in a passive-aggressive way by loudly saying things that you don't actually need me to say, like "Your total is four thirty-eight, sir!!!" and "Here's your receipt, sir!!!" and "Would you like a bag, sir!!!" and "Have a great day, sir!!!" except that I don't actually mean that last one.

- Seriously. Don't be on your cell phone. It is difficult for me to give you correct change while I am listening to your half of the conversation.

THE CONTENTS OF YOUR PURCHASE

- Decide what you're going to purchase before you get to the register. My goal is to get you out the door so I can take care of the ten people behind you. Do not dither over whether your child would prefer to read Holes or Hoot. If you really want to consult with a bookstore professional on this all-important question, ask another employee before getting in line. (For the record, go with Holes.) Above all, do not hold up the entire line because you are on the phone with your wife, asking whether she wants the South Beach Diet Cookbook or just the South Beach Diet, including telling her the prices and giving detailed descriptions of the conditions of both books. You know what your wife wants? A husband who's not an asshole.

OFFSPRING

- If you have children, then fucking be a parent.

- If you have children, then fucking be a parent. If your child wants to ask you a question, then either listen to the child and answer the question, or explain to the child that you are busy and you will answer their question in a few minutes. Do not allow your child to repeat to stand beside you repeating "Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy." for ten minutes while you browse the romance novels and absentmindedly say "uh huh." Those of us within hearing distance are slowly going insane. Your child is a human being, not a dog. Respect him. Either answer the question or don't.

- Seriously, would you just fucking be a parent? Yes, I know that life is difficult when you have kids. I know it's a lot of work. I know that they're running around the store with obscene amounts of energy. I sympathise. But this doesn't have to be as hard as you're making it. Do not give your child a directive if you're not going to follow through. Do not pretend like you're listening when you're not.

- It can be done. At my register, I have checked out people who are actually being parents. You know what they do? They let their kids know that their attention is otherwise engaged. They say, "Mommy has to pay now, go look at your new book." Or they say, "Everyone who's paying for these books, up at the counter. Everyone who's not, back off" (I liked that one). Stop getting so aggravated with your child's behavior when you're the one who's not enforcing the rules.

METHODS OF PAYMENT

- If you are paying in cash, and you have some change to make the transaction simpler, then yes, that is appreciated. But please remember that my goal is to get you out the door so I can take care of the ten people behind you. Do not count the change out onto the counter so that I have to laboriously pick up each coin. Do not spend forty-five seconds rummaging in your cavernous, disorganized purse "to see if you have two pennies." Above all, when told that your total is 15.10, DO NOT HAND ME A TWENTY AND THEN GO OUT TO YOUR CAR TO GET TEN PENNIES. I still can't believe that actually happened. With people waiting in line behind him.

- If you are paying in cash, you ought to know that I have to organize the bills in my register so they are all facing the same way. It makes it easier for the managers to count the register drawer. So please, do not shove me a handful of nine crumpled dollar bills from the recesses of your pockets.

- If you are paying with a check, stop it. Just stop. Right now. We live in an exciting age where we can enjoy all of the benefits of the wheel, the penicillin, and the checkcard. Go watch this commercial. Sadly, I no longer find it funny.

- If you simply must pay with a check, get with the program. You already know that I'm going to need your address, phone number, and drivers license number on the check. Order your checks so that this is pre-printed on them. If that is too difficult for you, write the information on the blank check while you are standing in line. While you're at it, fill in the name of the store and your signature. And you know that I'm going to need to see your drivers license, so get it out. When you set down your books on my counter you should have nothing left to do but fill in the amount. Don't you dare spend all that time waiting in line, let me spend all this time ringing you up, and THEN start to fumble around for your checkbook, a pen, and your license. Dumbass. Remember, my goal is to get you out of the store so I can deal with the ten people behind you. Outwardly, I will smile at you and tell you to have a great day. Inside, I am imagining you being boiled in oil.

PRICING

- Do not try to talk me down on the price. I know it's a used bookstore. But I'm not even trained to buy books. I know nothing about pricing. I will tell you to go talk to the buy counter. I don't know why Book A is 4.98, while Book B, which appears to be another book in the same series from the same publisher, is 7.48. That's just the way it is. Like gravity.

- However, if you happen to have found a book without a price tag, then waiting until there is a long line can be a very smart move. Am I going to call a manager over for a price check? Hell no. Why? Because (all together now) MY GOAL IS TO GET YOU OUT OF THE STORE SO I CAN DEAL WITH THE TEN PEOPLE BEHIND YOU. I'll look at the book, look at what else you're buying, and say, "how does 2.98 sound?" I can do that. I have powers where I can do that.

DISCLAIMER

All of this is a great big long diatribe worthy of Waiter Rant (except he's all cool and famous now, and he has a new girlfriend, which is way not fair, but Lola's Daddy is awesome). But the truth is, 95% of the customers are sweet as pie, and no trouble at all. And I actually really enjoy my job. And hell, if there's no one behind you, you can take your sweet time. I'm not going anywhere.

Except for the part about not being on your cell phone. For goodness' sake, show some common courtesy.

Um...

2008-09-11T09:39:00.003-05:00

As I type this, I'm sitting on the floor with my back against the bed, and my legs straight out in front of me, ankles crossed. Lola has just come up, straddled my feet with her back legs, and started humping my ankles. And while she's doing this, she's looking me in the eye very seriously.

This is so not okay.

No, the font had nothing to do with it.

2008-09-09T19:38:00.003-05:00

Lola's Daddy was a bit put out by this post, in which I indicated that he had been giving cat treats to the dog.

It's not that I have a problem with giving cat treats to the dog. At this point, I'm happy with any treat that she's interested in. Cows' eyes? Sure! Ferret skin? Why not! Powdered mandrake, infused with the essence of souls from the third circle of hell? Anything, as long as it will give her an incentive to do what I say!

But last night, he triumphantly identified the bag of treats that he'd been talking about. And he was rather smug about them being dog treats after all.

Which is why, Internet, I have to post pictures of the bag of treats he was referring to when we had the conversation about greenies.

Here is the front of the bag (with some treats laid in front of it).

Here is the back of the bag:

The treats are dehydrated pig liver. Lola totally loves them. Lola's Daddy and I are both vegetarian, so the whole concept is kind of disgusting. I pretend like they're chocolate shavings. I don't know what he does.

Nevertheless, I'm not sure how we can have an entire conversation about "greenies" that turns out to be about a treat that is not green, in a bag that has no green on it, and which could easily be identified by other means, e.g. "those treats from the independent pet shop," "those treats which are actually pig liver," "those treats in the silver bag," etc. etc.

My point being, I still win.

It was hard to pull myself together after this one.

2008-09-07T18:24:00.003-05:00

She's probably nine years old. She has a messy ponytail, as though her hair wasn't brushed first, or maybe it was done yesterday and she slept on it. Her two little brothers wrestle behind her, pretending to punch each other. Her hands and chin are on the check-out counter. Her father is buying "How To File For Divorce In Texas." She watches the book with somber, adult eyes.

FPL Quote of the Day

2008-09-07T18:15:00.001-05:00

The next time someone comes up to me and says, "Do you work here?" I'm going to reply, "No, I just put on this t-shirt and shelve paperbacks for fun."

Maybe if it was in a bigger font?

2008-09-07T08:05:00.002-05:00

Recently, Lola has been picky about which treats she likes, which makes training her much more difficult than it ought to be. After Lola obeyed a "Lola come!", sniffed the treat in my hand, and then walked away in disgust, Lola's Daddy and I had the following conversation:

"I don't think she likes those ones."

"I know she likes these. These are the ones that she jumped on my desk and ate a whole bag of them."

"Well, she definitely likes the greenies."

"I know, but those are too big to use as training treats."

"What, the little green ones?"

"Greenies are the big green ones shaped like a toothbrush."

"But she likes the little green hard ones I've been giving her."

"The ones shaped like little fishes?"

"Yeah."

Pause.

"Those are cat treats."

"What???"

"The ones that say 'Feline Greenies' on the bag? Yeah, those are cat treats."

FPL Quote of the Day

2008-09-06T23:46:00.004-05:00

"I have to ask you a really stupid question."

"I promise you, it won't be."

"Where am I?"

Blink. Blink.

Where are you in the store? Where are you along your life's journey? Where are you in relation to Jupiter?

"I got lost coming back from Guitar Center. I'm trying to find Mopac."

Ohhh...

I gave the young lad directions (at one point becoming the archetypal big sister: "No, stand next to me. Face this direction. Good. Now, THAT is east...") and sent him on his way.

But in the future I'll have to remember: sometimes it really is going to be a stupid question.

Happy Birthday to Me!

2008-09-05T21:41:00.004-05:00

My birthday isn't for another three days, but a birthday package from my parents arrived this morning, and I am definitely not the type to wait until the actual day before opening birthday goodies.

And amongst several other thoughtful and much-appreciated gifts, my wonderful mother had included a fifty dollar gift card to Petsmart for The Scruffbucket.

What can be purchased for fifty dollars at Petsmart? Why, I'm glad you asked! As it turns out, fifty dollars at Petsmart will procure you a great many exciting squeaky things!

More specifically, that's 1) a pink stuffed bone with fuzzy edging that crinkles when you chew on it, 2) a plush dog toy in the shape of french fries, 3) a pink octopus with long tentacles, which cost $14 but I couldn't resist it and I think Lola will really enjoy it, 4) a pink poo-bag dispenser which I will use to store treats, 5) a bag of the treats I know Lola likes because one day when I was at work she jumped up on the desk (which I thought she couldn't do) and chewed the bag open and ate the whole thing, 6) a few cheap rawhide bones filled with cheap flavoring, which were on sale, and look revolting, but she devoured the one I gave her, 7) a pink bunny rabbit that has a rattle in its head and a square flat body with four knots tied in the corners for arms and legs, which is the toy she got today and she loves it, 8) a stuffed turtle made of environmentally-friendly organic materials, and 9) a Democrats 2008 t-shirt, because we only have a few weeks left, people, and every little bit of advertising counts!!!

Happy Birthday to me! And to Lola!

The other awesome thing (that has to do with the damn dog, that is, after all it is MY birthday and not hers) is the gift for Lola that my mom included in the package. Lord knows you'd never know it from reading this blog, but I'm really not a soppy or sentimental person. It's just that, with having a small dog, ALL the soppy and sentimental urges I could possibly ever have come charging to the front, and I shamelessly indulge them. Case in point is that I really want Lola to have cute little clothes. Yes, I know. Dressing up a small dog is the height of absurdity. And yet somehow I just cannot bring myself to care. My mother, knowing this secret and shameful desire, included a princess outfit.

It was really, really hard to get a decent photo of Lola in her princess outfit, because I was practically squealing with excitement, and Lola, picking up on my energy, was running around all manic too. I couldn't get her to sit still for the life of me. But I do think that this final shot is funny enough to be The Best Picture Of The Day.

Lola Reviews: Red Bud Isle

2008-09-04T18:29:00.007-05:00

Recently, both Lola's Daddy and I were off work -- a rare occurrence! So we took Lola out to Red Bud for the first time.

It's a lovely little off-leash dog park, and it's incredibly easy to get to. Go south on Mopac, right on Lake Austin Boulevard, and left on Redbud Trail. Then take the first left into the parking lot for the park. It's a funny little island, created when a dam broke in 1900, so it's not even on google maps (you can see it in the satellite view, but it's mislabeled).

Here is the sign they have explaining the history of the park. This is where I learned that it was created when the dam broke. Also, it became a park in 1987 and an off-leash dog park in 2001. And the reference to "hearty fishermen" cracks me up every time I read it. Who wrote this copy, Ernest Hemingway?

Here's the entrance to Red Bud. It is -- wait for it -- yes, it's beautiful. Of course, it also pretty much looks like every other park in Austin. Sandy pathway, green trees, blue sky. But there's nothing wrong with that.

Red Bud has a simple layout. It's a small peninsula, so you walk to the end of it, and then you turn around and walk back. But along the way, there are plenty of places to access the water. Here's Lola's Daddy looking out at the water.

Lola explores amongst the tree roots.

Lola keeps me company while I enjoy the view (not true; she didn't sit still for a second the whole time we were there.)

But it is a lovely view.

Lola's Daddy thought it was pretty too.

Various organizations have done a lot of work in the park, especially with things like these steps into the water. I tried to get Lola to come into the water with me. She wasn't particularly interested.

However, there were a couple of cute schnauzers. They belonged to a woman who also had a one-year-old in a stroller. Ye gods.

I wanted to entice Lola into the water with treats, but this big boy was pretty excited about the treats himself.

I did eventually get her on the bottom step, but that was about it.

So we went to a spot that slopes more gradually into the water, and she poddled around a bit.

And then, oh internet, I did a foolish thing. Remember how we got Lola to swim when we took her to Bull Creek? She totally swam. So I thought to myself, look, obviously she knows how to swim. But she won't jump out into the water herself. So I'll just plop her into the water and we'll see what happens from there.

Yeah, I almost drowned my dog.

It's not as bad as it looks! That's exactly where I put her. She's all of three inches from a big rock to stand on. But, um, she didn't seem to remember the whole swimming concept. So I had to help her.

This is about as wet as Lola gets.

But she quickly recovered, and ran to catch up with us at the end of the peninsula. (I think that all four of her feet are off the ground here. Not positive -- but it appears so.)

The view from the very tip is kinda rockin' awesome.

And so is this guy.

Lola stayed wet for a while and that always makes me laugh. Hehe. Silly wet dog.

And then we went back. And we tried to have lunch at Hula Hut, but they don't allow dogs on their patio. Even though it's a fucking huge patio and boats can dock at it. Yes, that's right. If you're on a boat and you're hungry, go to Hula Hut. They have seating for boats. But not for dogs. Dumbasses.

So we went to Freddie's instead, and everyone was very happy.

My Mom's Fifteen Minutes

2008-09-04T17:53:00.002-05:00

My mom is famous.

Mr. Henderson

2008-09-02T23:35:00.004-05:00

When you adopt a rescue dog -- which everyone should do, and also you should spay and neuter your pets, and don't you dare buy a dog from a puppy mill -- sorry, where was I? Oh, right. When you adopt a rescue dog, you just accept that you'll never really know what happened to that dog before she came into your life.

In Lola's case, all I know is that the Houston SPCA got her on October 31, 2007. Her left eye was badly infected and they removed it the next day. Lone Star Rescue took her in, I adopted her in June, and it was the best thing I've ever done in my entire life.

When I was up in Dallas, so that Lola could meet Princess Poo-Face, my parents and I speculated endlessly about what could have happened in Lola's prior life. After all, Lola is so socialized, so loving, so smart, so adorable -- who could have possibly owned this dog but not loved her? Who could have abandoned her? The very idea is absurd.

Since we were never going to know the truth anyway, we created the story that made the most sense to us. We created Mr. Henderson. Internet, I give you Lola's imagined history.

Lola was owned by an elderly widower named Mr. Henderson. He must have been old, because Lola tends to be rather slow on walks, and an old person wouldn't have walked very quickly. He must have been male, because Lola is so much more friendly to males than females. We decided that Mr. Henderson's children bought Lola for him when his wife died, to cheer him up a bit and give him a reason to get up in the mornings. When he died, no one else could take the dog, and somehow she ended up at a shelter.

Mr. Henderson explains so many things. Lola is perfectly housebroken -- Mr. Henderson must have taken care of that. Lola walks to heel -- Mr. Henderson must have trained her. Lola sits quietly when you put on her harness, even though she's desperately excited to go outside -- Mr. Henderson must have taught her that.

Lola plays fetch. Lola obeys "drop it." Lola sleeps quietly through the night. Lola barks when a stranger is at the door. My parents kept commenting on how well-behaved she is. I wish I could take a scrap of credit for it, but the truth is that she's simply a well-trained dog who is loving and eager to please, and I totally lucked out. All her habits show that Lola was owned by someone who cared about her, and cared enough to teach her manners.

Mr. Henderson became our icon for everything that is good about Lola. We started to talk about him like he was a real person. "Mr. Henderson must have really taken care of her; look how socialized she is." "Mr. Henderson must have cuddled with her in the evenings; look how she always wants to play with you after dinner." "Mr. Henderson would be so happy to know that Lola is safe and happy and in a loving home."

That's our story. We talked about it so much that we all started to believe it. But new information has come to light, and it's possible that there's not an iota of truth to the whole thing.

But that's a story for another day.

P.S. I've always thought of Mr. Henderson as the guy from this Aimee Mann song.

FPL Quote of the Day

2008-09-02T23:06:00.001-05:00

"Where's your nonfiction section?"

"Well, it's divided up by category. What are you looking for?"

"Wuthering Heights."

Lola's Teddy

2008-09-02T22:54:00.004-05:00

This is the first toy I ever gave Lola. I bought it for her at Bark N' Purr just before I headed down to Houston to go get her. He is small and soft and he has a squeaker inside.

Last night she was playing with it, and when I glanced over I thought that something didn't seem quite right. When I investigated further, I found this:

The funny thing is, I was devastated. I felt so sorry for poor Teddy. It was as though my own teddy bear had been torn to shreds by a pack of rabid wolves. (I do not have my childhood teddy bear, Yellow. I left him on a train when I was six. I'll get over it one of these days, really.)

I shall re-stuff his stuffing and sew him up and he shall be good as new again.

A Letter Found At FPL

2008-09-01T20:39:00.004-05:00

Working at Fifty Percent Literature certainly has its perks. The job is simple and satisfying. My fellow employees are intelligent and interesting. Every day, I discover new books and new authors.

And people sell us paperbacks with all kinds of crap inside.

Usually, it's just movie tickets or airline boarding passes. We get a lot of those. Sometimes it's an old bookmark. But today, I found my first handwritten page. No one else thought it was exciting; they'd all seen it before. But I was excited. It's a tantalizing glimpse into a stranger's life. It feels incredibly voyeuristic.

Here, in its entirety, spelling intact, is the content of the page I found. It is written in pencil, in an old-fashioned female hand, on lined purple paper, which had clearly been torn out of a spiral notebook. Some words I simply couldn't decipher; they're just xxx.

I don't know what to make of this sad page, torn so abruptly from its surroundings. Is the author serious? Is any of it tongue-in-cheek? And why is she so sad? Is this motherhood?

"I stare at the moon. On nights when I'm reflecting, thinking or trying to conjure comfort or peace, I wonder how anybody thought it was made of cheese, and I have yet to see the man. What a scarry thought - a man watching you, would he open his eyes and say boo! Did our ancestors live in fear even at night?

"It's hard to imagine yet I guess most people are probably afraid of the night. I used to be especially in unfamiliar surroundings but now I just accept it as night - A quiet - ~~usually~~ (except in the summer when all the cicadas raise so much racket it ~~annoys you~~ - steals the place - very annoying) peaceful time. Its made for other creatures not seen during the day. Creatures like me. I've been working nights almost five years. Does it change you? I believe so. It makes you love the solitude, the calm, I feel I have a greater perception of earth, the universe of being alone.

"Many people run around all day going - going then fall into bed only to rise again + start over. I move slow, I think slow - I hesitate when I speak. I get my days confused. I think tho [thro? this?] aging. I'm not sure.

"but it makes me feel inadequate like I don't belong in the "day" world.

"I remember when my babies were young, I took them to the zoo every week. Then we would shell [?] around central park [I swear it says central park]. The xxx was so big and xxx, in the fall a blanket of leaves would cover the ground big crunchy leaves and their little xxx would come along - you didn't want to talk just listen to the sound. It was peaceful, the parking - but was full of gang-bangers and drugs - but no one bothered us. [I swear that's what it says.]

"We just crunched along. Thinking of that time makes me cry. My children were so young - so perfect. Its hard to believe the beautiful young adults are the same ~~people~~ babies - where did the time go? Did I teach them enough? I wish [here it shifts from pencil to pen] I could just erase all the mistakes I've made, all the sad times. Would they be better off without those times? I don't know. I just wish we could feel that same peace again. Innocent, loving, easy going, crunching - its been awhile since Ive felt it."

Things I Said At Work Today

2008-09-01T19:33:00.002-05:00

"No, we don't have any Stephanie Meyer."

"No, that's not a stupid question. It's Stephanie Meyer, and we don't have any."

"If we had it, it would be in the young adult section, under M for Stephanie Meyer. But we don't have any."

"The movie's about to come out, so we don't have any."

"It's the Twilight series, by Stephanie Meyer. And no, we don't have any."

"No, that's not a dumb question. It's by Stephanie Meyer, and we don't have any."

"WOULD YOU GODDAMN FREAKS SHUT UP ABOUT YOUR STUPID STEPHANIE MEYER AND HER STUPID TWILIGHT BOOKS! THE MOVIE IS COMING OUT! WHEN A MOVIE IS COMING OUT, THE USED BOOKSTORE WILL NOT HAVE THE BOOK! IF YOU HAD THE BOOK, WOULD YOU SELL IT TO US? NO? THEN NO ONE ELSE WILL EITHER! PLEASE WAIT SIX MONTHS, AT WHICH TIME NO ONE WILL CARE ANY MORE AND YOU WILL BE ABLE TO FIND THEM ON THE CLEARANCE RACK! WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE THE THREE SHELVES OF LORD OF THE RINGS PAPERBACKS LANGUISHING OVER IN SCI-FI? GET YOUR ASS TO A REAL BOOKSTORE, YOU TRENDY PIECE OF CRAP! AND NO, I DO NOT HAVE AN OPINION ON THE EDWARD-OR-JACOB DEBATE AND I DO NOT WANT TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT IT! I WON'T GET TO READ THEM UNTIL SIX MONTHS AFTER THE MOVIE COMES OUT, ASSHOLE!"

Okay, that last one might have been just in my head.

And then, finally, with far too much enthusiasm: "Yes! It's by Orson Scott Card! Right over here! We have two copies! Have you read it before? Oh my god, you are so going to love it. And then of course you have to read Ender's Shadow! Well, it's sort of a sequel. I don't really like the ones in the traditional Ender's Game line of sequels, but there's an alternate line of sequels starting with Ender's Shadow and they're wonderful. Here you go! Enjoy! Come back and tell me what you thought! And you'd probably really enjoy Starship Troopers!"

Lola's Fourth Bath

2008-08-30T23:58:00.008-05:00

Hello, internet! At long last, I can bring you photos of Lola being bathed!

Yeah, yeah, I know, y'all were all holding your breath. (Mom, I'm sorry I just published the phrase "y'all were all," but if necessary, I blame you for having raised me in Texas. Just be glad I didn't write "y'all were all holding y'all's breath." It was a possibility.)

As one would expect, Lola was a dirty girl after our visit to Bull Creek, and a bath was certainly in order. This time, Lola's Daddy was on hand to document the procedure. Thanks to him I can now describe, in detail and with visual aids, How To Give Lola A Bath.

First, put on clothes that you don't care about. Then get in the tub with the doggie and start some medium-warm water. She will crouch beneath your legs, just slightly annoyed with the whole procedure.

You're going to need some doggie shampoo! (Ridiculously gleeful infomercial face.)

And you're going to need a cup to scoop water over your dog! (Serious infomercial face.)

Use the cup to get your doggie soaking wet.

Even her face, which might be difficult.

Rub the shampoo all over with a nice massaging motion, which you imagine your doggie will enjoy. (Seriously. Who wouldn't enjoy? This part has to be nice.)

Don't forget her ridiculous pom-pom of a tail.

At this point your doggie may look rather pathetic. Do not relent!

Use more shampoo and clean your doggie's feet, one by one. At this point the water will go from clear and fresh to dark and muddy, and your boyfriend will refuse to ever take a bath with you ever again.

Rinse off your doggie with the cup.

If she starts to shiver, you will freak out and decide that she needs more warm water. But if you start the tap again, she will freak out. So next time, don't be such a tool, and just start with warmer water.

Make sure to rinse off her silly long ears.

When she is all clean, gather her up in a towel. She will need lots of loving and cuddling until she is dry.

Lola Reviews: Bull Creek

2008-08-30T22:34:00.010-05:00

This particular review has to start with some groveling towards the nice folks over at TopTenz. A few weeks ago, they made a list of the top ten dog-friendly cities in the country, and Austin was numero uno. And in this post, rather than simply mentioning the list and being pleased about it, I had to be all bitchy about their grammar and whine about how the only dog park they mentioned was Bull Creek and it isn't all that great.

They left me a couple of very nice comments, especially considering how carried away I got with my critique. And I learned that when you link to someone's website, they will notice, and then they will pop over to see what you said about them.

And I'm afraid I have to take it all back. Because Lola's Daddy and I took Lola to Bull Creek this morning, and this place rocks. The Project for Public Spaces seems to like it; also check out this incredibly detailed account of the hike from Austin Explorer.

There are lots of places to park and enter the greenbelt, but to get to the off-leash area, go north on Capital of Texas and then left (east) on 2222. Take the first left (north) on to Lakewood Drive, and park when you see the sign above. (Note: you do have to drive through some shallow water to get there, so don't take a Trans Am after a week of heavy rain, if you know what I mean.)

The park itself has a lot to recommend it: a rocky creek-bed creating little waterfalls, 4.5 miles of trail along the creek, and an astonishing sense of seclusion, especially considering that it crosses Capital of Texas Highway. Only a small part is off-leash, but it still works out well. And yes, I know I need to find another adjective to describe my many outings with Lola, but seriously, this place is so beautiful.

From the off-leash area, here is the view down the creek, looking towards Lakewood Drive. You can just barely see the people doing tai chi off on the other side of the creek.

Here is Lola's Daddy at the rope swing. The creek rushes down the little channel on the left into the deeper pool beyond. I've seen little kids using the channel as a water-slide and splashing into the pool; all the rocks are slippery with algae so I expect it works out quite well. Also, note the fun little sun-glare I got off the water. I took a vocational interest test recently and it said I would be a good photographer, and now I'm all self-conscious about my pictures.

Another view down the creek, showing the little slippery channel and the rope swing. Also two dogs in the water and the guy who was throwing tennis-balls for them. And would you look at that tree? I've been in Austin for five years and I still can't get over the TREES. Growing up in Dallas, there are no trees. There are "mesquite trees," which everyone knows are actually shrubs. That baby is a TREE. Growing out of the STONE. It's so amazing.

This is the view looking up the creek. You can see it start to become the little channel in the right-hand corner. And oh, yeah, there's a hill in the background. That's another thing Austin has, which constantly amazes me: geography.

Just a tiny way up the creek, many people were gathered in the shallow water, playing with their doggies. I hadn't yet let Lola off-leash, because she'd never been here before, but she was a very good girl for all the doggies who wanted to come sniff her.

You can stay down by the creek if you want to, but there are also a few trails up on higher ground. I'm glad we scrambled up to this spot because it was just lovely. Also, I think my vocational interest test was right-on. This photo rocks. (Mom -- I feel like the Rule of Threes is in here somewhere? Or maybe I just think it is because of the brown-green-blue of path-grass-sky?)

Here is Lola's Daddy on the trail, striking a pose. Also he is hiding a Starbucks cup behind his leg. His roommate works at Starbucks and often brings home a few large plastic cups of coffee, all set to go, with sugar and milk already added. We snagged a cup this morning before setting out, but Lola's Daddy insisted on hiding it in the photos because, and I quote, "come on, why do we have to be a commercial for Starbucks?" We are both coffee-shop snobs, in that we religiously patronize the many independent coffee-shops in Austin. And yet we will happily take the free Starbucks out of the fridge. I think this says something about principles, incentives, and human behavior.

And oh, yeah, my boyfriend makes me laugh.

Here is Lola's Daddy stopping to look at a pretty, tiny blue flower. Lola was not interested in the flower.

Here is another spot to cross the creek. We paused here for a few minutes and let Lola off-leash. In the background is Capital of Texas Highway. It's really insane that all this pristine beauty is so close to the freeway.

Me and Lola saying hi to the tadpoles. Seriously. Hundreds and hundreds of tadpoles. I was worried about squishing some but then I decided it was just natural selection.

Me trying to get Lola into deeper water. Shortly after this she fell into the rushing water in the tiny channel you can see. I wish I had a video camera.

Lola looking dopey.

A photo of Lola in mid-helicopter-ears, captured by Lola's Daddy, immediately after she fell in the water. He was so proud.

Me and Lola, the Queens of Bull Creek.

Lola wandered around a lot while we rested in this spot. I think it was too much stimulation and excitement because she couldn't lay still for a moment.

Lola's Daddy, the King of Bull Creek.

Lola's Daddy isn't a huge fan of this photo, but I had to post it, because the internet needs to know that he is cupping a cigarette in his right hand so that you can't see it. This led to the following exchange:

Lola's Mommy: I am totally posting this photo to my blog and saying that you were hiding the cigarette so that your mom wouldn't see it. And then you'll never be able to tell your mom about my blog because then she'd know.

Lola's Daddy: It's not just that! Cigarettes don't have a place in nature photos! They ruin it!

This baffles me. It's all right to smoke in Mother Nature (never leaving your cigarette butts of course), but not all right to have photographic evidence of the fact?

Besides, Lola's Daddy is kinda sexy when he's smoking.

Anyway, my camera abruptly ran out of batteries after that photo. We made our way back to the off-leash area on the other side of the creek, which incidentally is much more difficult to traverse. And then I abandoned all dignity and splashed around in the water in my clothes to try to get Lola to actually SWIM, and she DID! She swam to me a couple of times, and then she swam right on past me, and I thought that meant she was really enjoying it, but actually she was just heading for the shore.

I love my dog.

Lola Reviews: Cafe Mundi

2008-08-28T20:03:00.006-05:00

I wasn't going to post this review for a couple of days, but having no Lola photos in the Auditorium Shores review upset me so much that I have to go ahead and get this online.

Cafe Mundi is yet another funky little independent coffee-shop-plus-food spot.

It also has the distinction of being possibly the most difficult-to-find coffee shop in Austin. It's on 5th street, about a mile east of I-35, on the north side of the street, between Comal and Chicon. For years they didn't even have a sign. There is actually a sign now, so possibly people won't keep driving right past it; nevertheless, you could still be forgiven for thinking that this little enclave is just another east Austin scrapyard.

But you'd be missing out.

Their patio is small, but it's easily the most beautiful patio in Austin (also, arguably, Bouldin Creek, but my money's on Mundi). It has trees and bamboo and big ferns and sculptures and bird-baths. It's a really lovely garden and someone obviously cares about it a great deal.

They welcome dogs on this dirt patio to the side, but dogs are not allowed on the small front porch (which you can see in the first picture). Also, there are several signs reminding you that your dog must be on a leash, and asking you to take your dog home if it is barking, out of respect for other customers. This is the most specific set of rules that I have yet seen at a dog-friendly place in Austin, but I actually really appreciate it. These rules merely codify common courtesy. One would hope that dog owners know how to be courteous in public, but if they don't, I have no problem with a few signs reminding everyone how to be polite. After all, people without dogs deserve a pleasant experience, even at dog-friendly places.

The menu is veggie-friendly, but I hesitate to call it vegan-tolerable. A vegan could have the roasted red pepper sandwich, or possibly a salad, or possibly a soup (today's soup was a very yummy gazpacho), but by and large all of the veggie stuff involves cheese.

Of course, no dining experience is complete without Lola's Daddy on hand to order food and bring us water and iced coffee.

And, at the request of Lottie's Mommy, here we have, and I quote, "more close-ups of Lola's Daddy so we can all see how incredibly cute he is." Back off, woman, you have your own boyfriend!

(But hell yeah, mine is pretty damn sexy...)

Here is me and Lola and the new sign. Lola is getting kinda fluffy again.

Lola's Daddy and Lola went down to the gazebo in the bottom corner of the garden. Immediately after I took this photo, Lola's Daddy yelled "God! Damn mosquitos!" and then they weren't in the gazebo any more.

And, as always, The Best Picture of the Day.

Lola Reviews: Auditorium Shores

2008-08-28T15:18:00.005-05:00

Hello again, internet!

I'd just like to give a shout-out to the new doo-hickey on the right-hand-side of the page. It's not just random websites I like; it's blogs that belong to good friends of mine, people I actually hang out with in real life. Pine Belt Blues is written by Ellie, who knows everything there is to know about music and southern culture, and also knows a great deal about food. the long way home is written by Jeff, who is remodeling an absolutely gorgeous old house. I am particularly fond of the long way home because I bugged Jeff to keep a record of the renovations until he actually started the blog.

On to the review. If you live in Austin, and you're at all interested in the outdoors, then you must surely love the Town Lake (now Lady Bird Lake) Hike-and-Bike Trail. It covers all of Lady Bird Lake, from Mopac on the west, past I-35 to Pleasant Valley on the east. It includes Barton Springs and Zilker Park, and it has over ten miles of hike-able and bike-able trails. A lot of it is within sight of downtown, and almost all of it is beautifully maintained. It's not exaggerating to say that this is an Austin treasure.

Auditorium Shores is part of this treasure. It's on the south side of Lady Bird Lake, between Lamar and South First. There's a parking lot in the northwest corner of Riverside and South First, which is very convenient. It's all an off-leash dog park -- and even more amazing, part of it has been specially built to let dogs cool off in the lake. This is that spot ("The Steps"), with a view of Congress Bridge and the Frost Bank Building in the background.

Also, I have to point out the fucking HORSE that's pretending to be a dog in this photo. Holy hell, what kind of dog is that? It's huge!!!

At one point near the parking lot, there's a stand of water coolers and paper cups maintained by volunteers. Sometimes there are also ads for doggies that are hoping to be adopted from the animal shelter.

A lot of the trail runs right up to the edge of the water, which is just lovely. (The Steps are there in the distance.)

More of the pretty trail.

There are kayakers on Lady Bird Lake.

And also swans, just like at Barton Springs.

As you can see, I took these photos a few weeks ago, and I'm only now getting around to posting them. Auditorium Shores is definitely still amazing, but I didn't get any photos with Lola in them, because at this point I didn't let her off-leash. The blog entry is definitely suffering because of that. So next time we go, I shall be sure to get pix of Lola and add them to the entry. It's just not the same if you can't see a cute doggie.

Lola Reviews: Austin Java

2008-08-26T08:25:00.007-05:00

A few days ago, when I didn't have to go in to work until the afternoon, Lola and I swung by the office and picked up Lola's Daddy for lunch at Austin Java.

Austin Java, like Trudy's, is one of those Austin institutions that has somehow got itself an amazing reputation, but actually is not nearly as cool as people from out of town think it is. Don't get me wrong, Austin Java is certainly fun. It's a really nifty independent coffee-shop-plus-food destination. It's just that if you live here, there are plenty of nifty independent coffee-shop-plus-food destinations around.

(Note: if I lived in Coppell, the home of Princess Poo-Face, I'd be dancing for joy to have something like Austin Java around. It's just that I'm spoiled by living in Austin. Incidentally, the Wikipedia entry for Coppell (which is where the link will take you) is, as of this writing, one of the worst Wikipedia entries I've ever seen. Certainly, it seems to be generally factually correct, and the information on median income and racial diversity will give you a fair understanding of the city. However, the grammar is atrocious, and the amount of time spent dwelling on professional sports facilities, the new high school, and the lack of public transit rather sickens me.)

Back to Austin Java. The coffee is organic and fair trade. The food is good, and it's veggie-friendly and (just) vegan-tolerable. The lunch special is a good deal, if you're really really hungry and want all that food. I had a veggie burger, and damn, it was awesome. The burger part was awesome and yummy, but the bun -- good lord! -- I have never had such meltingly succulent, tantalizingly sweet, amazing honey-whole-wheat goodness.

All right, I suppose the food is pretty good.

But if you want something to knock your socks off, then dude, fucking get off your ass and get the pesto pasta. It's better than the Furminator. Lola's Daddy got some as part of his lunch special, and I sort of devoured it. It's like a little slice of heaven, a luscious little penne-basil virgin just waiting for you to deflower it.

The central location, which is the original one, is at 12th and Lamar. It's a funky little house with a front porch and back patio. Doggies are not allowed on the back patio -- I meant to ask why, but I forgot. Possibly it's covered in such a way that makes it technically not an outdoor space for dogs. However, the front patio is pretty big, so as long as you're not there in the middle of a rush, you should be fine.

Here is Lola with Lola's Daddy, hanging out at our table.

Here is me and Lola.

And of course, The Best Picture Of The Day.

Lola's Third Bath

2008-08-26T08:22:00.003-05:00

Yes, it had been over a week since her last bath. And yes, we had been to Walnut Creek that morning. And yes, she played in the creek, so yes, her feet were all muddy by the time we got back home.

Still, I couldn't believe that this is what the bath water looked like afterwards.

(Note the muddy paw-prints on the side, left there from the brief moment she considered trying to get out while my back was turned.)

Lola Reviews: Office Depot

2008-08-26T08:14:00.001-05:00

Doggies are not allowed in Office Depot.

UPDATED to add: When I told Lola's Daddy this, he replied indignantly, "What? In that boring-ass store?" and then he added rather sheepishly, "Actually, since I've been doing the supply orders at work, I get really excited about all the pens and pencils and things."

Lola Reviews: Walnut Creek

2008-08-21T15:04:00.011-05:00

I don't live in the best part of Austin. You might call it trashy, or ghetto, or unsafe. I call it cheap.

But I recently discovered one very nice thing about my neighborhood. I live all of 2.5 miles from Walnut Creek Metropolitan Park. The park is massive, a mile long and almost as wide. There are a myriad of trails throughout, as well as a playground, a swimming pool, and a bunch of sports fields. I see lots of mountain-bikers there, so it must be big enough for them to get a good work-out. And best of all, almost all of it is an off-leash area.

This is the off-leash sign the parks in Austin use. It makes me smile because it's so clearly a little black scotty dog, with little round feet. Note the poo-bags beneath. Apparently they're "degradable." Not biodegradable, just degradable.

Walnut Creek always looks a little strange to me -- like it belongs in the Piney Woods section of East Texas, rather than in Austin -- because it's full of trees that have needles and berries like this:

And bark like this:

No, I don't know what kind of trees they are. Fir trees? This blog is about Lola and not trees and I'm not about to go research it for you.

Lola and I do a circuit that takes about half an hour, starting out on the Pool Lot Trail, and then heading back on the Service Road Trail. Creative, aren't they, these park maintenance folk? Actually, I take that back -- I'm not going to make fun because a lot of the work is done by volunteers, and I for one greatly appreciate it. Last year, the volunteers installed a lot of signs so you can see what trail you're on. Unfortunately, aside from the trail name, the signs are distressingly cryptic.

Why don't we learn useful things in school, like Morse Code, or International Park Signage?

Today was the third time I let Lola off-leash, and the second time off-leash at Walnut Creek. She's really very good. She never ever charges ahead of me. In fact, the biggest problem is getting her to keep up. "C'mon!" is our command for when I want her to catch up with me. This is Lola ignoring me in favor of an apparently fascinating bit of vegetation.

Here is Lola obeying me and catching up.

Here is Lola trotting along beside me.

Walnut Creek really is astonishingly beautiful. At one point on the trail, you're at the edge of an outcropping overlooking the creek itself. When we went two days ago, after a great deal of heavy rain, the creek was rushing along lustily. Today it had calmed down, and the water was just placidly meandering on. (Here, Lola got distressingly close to the edge of the ledge, and I told her to get back quite sharply. Not very useful, since "Get Back" isn't a command we've been working on. It would have made a good picture, but I was distressed at the time.)

Shortly after that spot, the trail leads you down to the creek itself. Here is the view looking up the creek, with Lola exploring little water puddles and looking rather dopey.

And this is the view looking down the creek. When we were there two days ago, the water was all the way up to that rocky lip at the left. It was really cool.

Lola splashed around in the puddles for some time, which was awesome. It was especially awesome because they all have algae in them, so they're all really slippery, and she kept falling over.

Here is Lola having a drink. Ick.

Here is Lola poddling around, being all cute. Her tongue is so pink!

Here is Lola cooling off. Or possibly she just fell. Hard to tell.

Also, we found a dead lizard. Actually, I found it. Lola was so oblivious that she stepped on it. And ants were eating it. It was really cool.

Lola is tired at the end of the walk.

And finally, may I present, The Best Picture of the Day.

Still Not Related to Lola

2008-08-18T22:56:00.002-05:00

It's possible that Lola's Daddy owes me a few dinners...

A Post That Is Not Related to Lola

2008-08-18T21:55:00.005-05:00

Note: Camacho, this post is for you. While several of my friends will find this funny, I thought that you in particular would get a kick out of it. So, Internet, if you're annoyed that it's not a Lola post, go beat him up.

Does posting about something other than Lola violate the sacred honor of this blog, this astonishing electronic repository of information, which I nurtured in gestation for nine months before birthing it upon an unsuspecting world?

Okay, that last part might not be accurate.

And anyway, fuck it, it's my blog and I'll do what I want with it.

I recently got a job at a pretty rockin' awesome used bookstore chain, which will remain nameless because I haven't read the employee handbook yet and I don't know if blogging about my job is grounds for being fired (although Texas is an at-will state so they can pretty much fire me any time they want to anyway). So I won't tell you where I work. Let's just call it Fifty Percent Literature.

The other day, I was stocking the Science Fiction/Fantasy section at Fifty Percent Literature. I kinda like stocking paperbacks in general, and as a Sci/Fan buff I'm always happy when that section needs some work. A friendly guy with an adorable blonde one-year-old on his shoulders approached me, needing help with a book. The conversation went like this:

Friendly Guy: Hi, I'm looking for a book, I always look for it when I come in here, a friend recommended it to me, it's a Sci-Fi book, and I just can't remember the author today.

Me: Do you know the title?

Friendly Guy, looking sheepish: No, sorry... It's older, something by one of the grandfathers of science fiction... Maybe from the fifties or sixties... I don't know, it's usually right around here, you guys keep changing where everything is.

Me, noting that we are in the "C"s: Arthur C. Clarke?

Friendly Guy: Yes! That's it!

Me, jocularly: Well, as long as it's not 2001 it's all right that you couldn't remember the title.

Friendly Guy, scanning the Clarkes: Actually, no... I don't think this is it...

Me, choosing the "grandfather" next closest to the "C"s: Isaac Asimov?

Friendly Guy: No...

Me: Robert Heinlein?

Friendly Guy: Yes! Yes! Heinlein!

Me, suddenly jubilant: Okay, I can definitely help you there! I know pretty much everything about Heinlein's books. Do you, um, have any idea of the title?

Friendly Guy: No, I'm sorry... It's something to do with Blood-Brothers or Water-Brothers... It's his most famous book.

Me, skeptically: Stranger in a Strange Land?

Friendly Guy: Yes! Oh my god, that's incredible!

Yeah, no shit! I thought. But he was so nice that I couldn't really be annoyed with him.

I may have expressed some slight disapproval of Stranger in a Strange Land as we walked over to the "H"s to get it (thank god we had a copy!), with the end result that I also sold him The Number of the Beast, and told him to get Starship Troopers and Moon is a Harsh Mistress as soon as he has the chance. He'd never heard of Starship Troopers -- not even the movie, can you believe it? He made me write them down. I explained, perhaps a trifle forcefully, that Starship Troopers is one of the best books ever written.

Oh, and don't judge me for picking Number of the Beast. My other options were Friday, Job, and Sail Beyond the Sunset. Our Heinlein selection is really thin right now.

So I took a guy who was saying "I want the famous book that's supposed to be in the Cs!" and got him the actual Heinlein book he was thinking of. I so totally rock.

Epilogue Number One: When I returned to the Sci-Fi section, another customer who had overheard the whole thing asked if I was really that big a fan of Heinlein, because he had tried Stranger in a Strange Land at the insistence of a Rastafarian friend, and he found it rather dated. I agreed that it was dated, and yeah maybe kinda crappy, and explained that Heinlein's political philosophy is much more awesome than his free-love-as-religion rant.

Epilogue Number Two: One of my co-workers then came up to me and said, "Wouldn't it be awesome if that guy came back and said to you, 'I totally grok this book'?"

Love

2008-08-16T22:05:00.002-05:00

Sometimes when I'm driving my car, and I'm at a stop light, and Lola's sprawled out half-asleep in my lap, I very slowly and very gently stroke her and play with her hair. And my eyes fill up with tears.

Lola's Brother

2008-08-14T15:57:00.003-05:00

Internet, meet Banzai.

Yeah, yeah, it's a crappy picture. So sue me. It's harder to take photos of cats. For starters, they don't respond when you say their name.

Banzai is a three-year-old Bombay with an astonishing lack of personality. My family has had cats my entire life -- Banzai is my second cat since I've been living on my own -- and I have never known a cat to be so boring. His only interests in life are food, food, and food. Also he likes being outside -- not to explore, or to kill baby rabbits, oh no! No, he just sits there, watching everything. The toy in the photo above is the only toy he will ever play with, and that's only because it's one of the ones with a little pocket for treats.

I knew, almost as soon as I saw her photo online, that Lola was my dog. My only concern was how she felt about felines -- because if she hated cats, that would be a deal-breaker. I needn't have worried. It's been three weeks now, and they both ignore each other 100%. Occasionally one of them might sniff the other. But they pretty much each treat the other like a piece of not particularly interesting furniture that just happens to move around on four legs from time to time.

Recently I've had two problems with Banzai:

1) I have, of course, been feeling incredibly guilty about neglecting Banzai the past few weeks. It's not that I've been ignoring him. But he never demands attention or affection, and I've been very busy being enthusiastically ecstatic about Lola.

2) Now that I have a white dog that doesn't shed, I'm becoming more and more annoyed about having a black cat that does shed. Stupid hair everywhere.

The solution to both these problems, obviously, is the Furminator. I can stop the shedding AND spend quality time with the cat!

I've been meaning to get one for a while, but it's difficult to justify spending so much on a cat brush. But then dooce got one and sang its praises to high heaven. And if that wasn't enough, Daily Coyote thinks they're fantastic too. So today, after the visit to the vet, Lola and I stopped off at our local pet store and bought one. And a cat toy. And treats. And a dog toy. Once I step inside a pet store, all considerations of rational budgeting cease to exist.

Banzai wasn't necessarily thrilled about the whole Furminator experience. He endured it, and tried to get away about once every sixty seconds, but I'm so much in the Cesar Millan pack-leader mindset that I made him stay with me, made him lie down, and gave him lots of praise. After all, it looks like it should feel good, so hopefully he'll start to enjoy it.

As far as the shedding goes -- folks, I don't know what to say. You can find many, many people online, giving such fervent testimonials that you start to think they're spending hours each day sucking the Furminator's cock (supposing it had one). All I can say is, they're not exaggerating. You cannot exaggerate about this product. This is one of the coolest things I have ever seen.

That's what I got after perhaps fifteen minutes, which was as much as Banzai would let me do today. I love how the undercoat comes out in clumps. I love how Banzai's undercoat is dark at the roots but goes to almost white at the tips. I love how soft it is.

Because I'm me, I immediately ran a google search, which led me to this website. After all, why should such beautiful fine soft hair just go in the trash?

Lola's Second Bath

2008-08-14T15:26:00.014-05:00

I did not get photos of Lola actually in the bath, as I was occupied with actually, you know, bathing her. I'll try to get Lola's Daddy to take photos of the process sometime.

However, once we were both clean and out of the tub, I did get photos of her running about. This proved to be surprisingly difficult. Here, in order, is every photo I took. The first is a stunning shot of Lola's ass as she runs away from me. (I do like how the hair on her tail is moving, though.)

Here is Lola in full-on bedraggled mode. She has wingy legs.

Again, Lola's ass:

Lola in the middle of a full-on body shake, which I refer to as Helicopter Ears because they flap around her head amusingly:

Here, something went wrong with the photographer. But if history ever needs documentation of my dirty white flip-flops, my bedspread, and Lola's Squeaky Sheep, it's available.

Here, something went wrong with the camera.

Lola's front half, for once:

All of Lola, in the middle of a very vigorous Helicopter Ears. This is totally my favorite photo.

This is Lola, after having calmed down a bit. Note the ever-present bottle of stain remover in the background.

Stain remover, Lola, and dirty flip-flops.

Oh, yeah, and here's what Lola did while I was getting myself clean, before I brought her into the bathroom. The little minx.

Really Not Sure How She'd Do on an IQ Test

2008-08-14T14:40:00.003-05:00

My dog is smart:

Today I took Lola to the vet to see about the chronic diarrhea issue. I had brought along some poo in a bag (ick), so they didn't have to take a fecal sample, but they did have to take her temperature. By sticking a thermometer up her butt. And keeping it there for sixty seconds. Lola did not enjoy this. When the vet left to do the analysis, I sat down, and she huddled up against the wall, under my chair. The vet returned and prescribed some antibiotics, and then it was time to leave. I crouched down in front of the chair, held my hands palms up, and said, "Lola come," a command which she almost always obeys. Lola pricked up her ears and looked at me, then immediately swiveled to look at the vet, who was holding the door open. As if to say, "right, lady, you want me to come out with that bitch still around?" Clever girl.

My dog is stupid:

I have two little containers attached to the end of Lola's leash, as you can see.

One is a poo-bag dispenser by Bags On Board, so that I can be a responsible pet owner who cleans up after her dog. The second is a different kind of poo-bag dispenser, where the bottom cap pops off. Yesterday I had the bright idea to buy this dispenser and store training treats in it. It's hard to grab treats before we go out, because then Lola sees me get them from the cupboard and is obsessed with having one. If they were already on the leash, they'd be available, and they'd be up near my hand where she couldn't get at them. It worked really well at Barton Springs, but then we went to lunch and I tied her leash around the table-leg, and suddenly she realized that this pink thing was the source of the treats, and it was on the ground and accessible to her! She started chewing at it, so I sighed and took it off the leash and put it in my purse. Undeterred, she spent the next ten minutes chewing at the Bags On Board container. It is a different shape, a different color, and a different texture, and also it does not smell like treats because it does not have treats in it. Nevertheless, she persevered. Dumbass.

I Love My Town.

2008-08-13T21:18:00.006-05:00

Looks like Austin made the list of Top Ten Most Dog Friendly Cities in America.

Well, duh.

The text of the article says:

Boasting 12 off-leash parks, Austin is a dream come true for both pet owners and the pets themselves. Whether cooling off in the creek at Bull Creek District Park or taking a tour of the city in a horse-drawn carriage, there are plenty of ways for your dog to enjoy themselves while in Austin. Plenty of restaurants and stores welcome dogs, so be sure to take them out with you when you're hitting the town and enjoy the sites of this beautiful Texas city with your best four-legged friends.

Now, look, I'm glad Austin made the top ten. I was going to be very upset if we didn't. But because I'm a virgo, I do have a few critical thoughts:

1) We were only #10? Screw that.

2) Bull Creek? Of all the dog parks in Austin, you mention Bull Creek? Sure, it's nice and all... but it's small and out of the way, and, well, it's just a creek. The doggie part of Barton Springs is prettier.

3) Horse-drawn carriages? Do they let dogs up on those things? If they do, fine, but I won't use them. By and large the practice is cruel. Or at the least, it's mean to keep the horses plodding amongst the cars in the city all day, every day.

And finally, a note about grammar. If this website actually has editors, they suck. How about not using "creek" twice in the same sentence? How about not using "plenty" twice in two sentences? How about some noun-pronoun agreement? Either my dog enjoys herself, or my dogs enjoy themselves; my dog does not enjoy themselves. How about some literacy? People enjoy sights while traveling. Only archaeologists enjoy sites.

On second thought, there's no way that website has an editor.

Oh, and one final consideration. It is worthwhile clicking on the link and scrolling down just to see the appalling photo that is, apparently, representative of Austin's dog culture. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and in this case, a thousand words wouldn't come close to describing what's going on here. All I can say is that this is the only dog in the universe that ought to be in Cats.

But still. Go Austin!

(UPDATED to add: The lovely people at the TopTenz website left a couple comments to say 1) the last in a top-ten list wins, so Austin is actually #1, and 2) no, there's no editor because it's a website providing interesting, free content, and it's run in someone's spare time. The comments are really really nice -- go read them! -- and now I feel awful that I totally bashed them in this rant. In case it wasn't clear, it was all exaggeration for comedic effect, and I'm not actually upset about anything. Also, I have now learned that if you link to a website, the person who runs that website will notice. Good to know.)

Lola Reviews: Barton Springs

2008-08-13T14:56:00.000-05:00

Barton Springs is one of the most awesome things about Austin. For three dollars (plus three dollars' parking if you go on the weekend during summer), you can hang out at a verdant, landscaped natural spring that stays at 68 degrees year-round. I am a huge fan of all the beautiful swimming holes around Austin, but if you don't have time to drive out of town a little ways, nothing can beat Barton.

It's even better for dog lovers. The spring, which feeds into Lady Bird Lake, has been made into a channel about twenty yards across and over 900 feet long. At the end is a small dam, which feeds into the FREE OFF-LEASH DOG PARK. Hell yeah. I love this town.

Here is the doggie part of Barton Springs.

You can see the people and doggies playing, and beyond that the small dam/sluice thing with its chain-link fence, and beyond that the beautifully maintained sloping hill where people who have paid three dollars can sunbathe.

(I specifically went on a weekday morning when there would be less people. I think there were four other dogs there. But I have seen over twenty-five, easily, on weekends.)

Looking the other way, you can see where the spring feeds into Lady Bird Lake. Note the swans and kayakers.

Lola has not been very receptive to water so far (aside from her bath, when of course she was wonderful). I figured that Barton Springs on a quiet day would be a good first experience. The slope into the water is so gradual that I'd be able to lure her farther and farther out with treats. Good plan, right? Right?

But sadly, the best laid plans of mice and men... (I really wish I could link to the Eddie Izzard clip for that, but YouTube doesn't seem to have it. Phooey.)

Actually, it went really well. I kept her on-leash, and she loved the park and the people, and came out in water almost up to her neck to take a treat. I wanted to see if she could actually SWIM, but I decided not to push it for our first time there.

Here is a bedraggled Lola.

Actually you can't really see the bedraggledness there. I posted the photo because 1) she's looking at the camera in such an amazingly adorable way, and 2) what the HELL is up with my toes? See them? See? See? There at the bottom of the photo? I have short, fat slug toes in this photo!!! Why? Why???

Here is a better photo of bedraggled Lola. Ha ha, she's all wet. Sucker.

In the final analysis, she loved the park, and she was neutral regarding the water. We'll see what happens next time.

Shit.

2008-08-12T22:36:00.001-05:00

I like to think that my expectations regarding adopting a dog were reasonably realistic. Sure, I've never owned a dog -- but my last roommate had a dog, several good friends have dogs, and of course I've spent a great deal of time with Princess Poo-Face.

I knew that my social life would be more restricted, since I'd have to come home at regular times for the dog. I knew that I'd have to keep all sorts of things off the floor and off-limits. I knew that I'd have to pay for regular grooming. And I hoped that the dog would give me doggie-lovings every time I came home, and would be my companion pretty much anywhere and everywhere possible. All of this has turned out to be pretty much accurate.

What I did not expect, however, was how much Lola's bowel movements would occupy my mind.

Obviously, doggie poo is important. For one thing, I want her on a regular schedule to help avoid accidents inside. For another, I want to watch out for poo problems to make sure she's not getting sick. Tomorrow marks the three-week anniversary of Lola And Me (clearly a Lifetime movie waiting to happen, that title). And yet the little bitch can't shit straight for more than two days together.

1) We've had two bouts of diarrhea. Squelchy, farty, slimy, liquid diarrhea. (Hi, mom! Aren't you glad you read my blog?)

2) She ate an entire skein of DMC embroidery floss -- apparently without the paper wrappers -- and I didn't know a thing about it until she pooped it out. I still don't know where she got it from. It was still in its basic shape, though, which I thought was kinda nifty.

3) While I was at work one day, she got a ziplock baggie containing two granola bars off a part of the desk that I didn't know she could reach. She chewed through the baggie and through the wrappers, and pooped peanuts and sunflower seeds all the next day. Also she still has bits of sticky granola all over her paws. Bath number two happens tomorrow.

4) Yesterday while I was at work, she got a box of tissues off the bookcase (oh, I am a fool indeed to have left such a thing in such a place!) and demolished the entire thing. That part of the room looked like there were happy little snowdrifts everywhere. I really should have taken a photo; I wish I had thought of it.

They were the expensive kind, too, with the lotion and all.

So of course all day today I have been waiting to see how much of the kleenex she actually ate. This morning, I got some poo and some tissue. Yay! At her post-dinner walk, nothing, even though I usually get a poo then. Boo! At one point, it momentarily looked like she was squatting for a poo, but then she walked off -- leaving me to imagine Massive Intestinal Blockage due to Tissue Consumption for the three hours I had to be at work afterwards.

The problem is compounded because it's hard to gauge Lola's readiness for a good (supposedly) solid dump. Sure, she twirls around right before going, just like all dogs do. The problem is, what with the whole one-eyed thing, she twirls in circles a lot anyway. Yeah, if we're going for a Walk, she'll follow behind me in a straight line. But if we're just meandering around on the grass, she's going to be vaguely counterclockwise the whole time. You know what fifteen minutes of "meandering" feels like when all the time, with all your might, you're willing your dog to shit, and secretly worried that there may be a trip to the emergency vet in your future?

To save you the suspense, I'll go ahead and say that she did actually shit this evening, on the late-night walk at 10:30 when I got home from work, and there was no Kleenex, so I think she only ate that little bit that came out this morning.

But from now on, I'm going to give her a treat after every poo, and maybe she'll start to poo with more alacrity when we go out. Because it's ridiculous for a grown human to be this anxious about the excrement of a thirteen-pound dog.

UPDATE: This post was written late last night. Sometime in the early hours of this morning, Lola created no less than five separate deposits of stinky, messy diarrhea. Also she must have walked in it, because it is encrusted all over her front paws and there are little doggie footprints of shit all over the floor. I am never having children.

Lola Reviews: Norwood

2008-08-09T22:50:00.000-05:00

Hi, internet! It's me again, your favorite incredibly sappy new dog owner!

Today I took Lola to Norwood. It is technically known as Norwood Estate Off-Leash Area, but everyone I know refers to it as "that dog park at Riverside and I-35." It is the only entirely fenced-in off-leash dog park in Austin. I wasn't really nervous about taking Lola off-leash because 1) she generally stays so close to me and 2) she has become much more friendly with other dogs when we visit Auditorium Shores. Of course, I couldn't be sure -- about her behavior, or the behavior of other dogs! So this first off-leash experience was a big deal, and going to the fenced-in dog park was essential.

So, Norwood:

It's a nice little place, maybe 1.5 or 2 acres (the City of Austin link above says that it's 508 acres, but this is total bullshit). There are three or four shady seating areas around the edges, and a sunny hill (plus a totally random little bamboo forest) in the middle. Owners generally sit in the shady areas and chat or read or throw balls for their dogs, while each dog runs all over creation in an attempt to prove that he can sniff more butts than anyone else. Some of the seating areas have been planned really beautifully, with two rows of lovely big trees, and some plastic chairs and wooden picnic tables to sit at:

Here is another seating area:

Here is the sunny hill in the middle:

There are several doggie water stations, with water bowls below and gallons of water to pour into them. (There is also a three-level water fountain in the center but it doesn't work. Those things are always broken.)

Lola did wonderfully. I walked her on a leash over to a place to sit (not a chair, just a railroad tie or something in the ground). I took her off-leash and she circled me for about five minutes, staying within arm's reach, but watching all the other doggies. Of course they came over to sniff her, and she stood between my legs but didn't seem too upset. Then she explored our little corner of the park and said hi to all the dogs and people. And of course the people reached down to touch her, and she didn't run away! A little while later I walked all around the park (with a fairly frequent refrain of "Lola come!") and she followed me about ten feet behind. When I chose a spot to settle in, she would sit near me, then wander off to say hi to someone, then come back and sit near me. And then wander off again, and then come back and sit near me. She never got more than twenty feet away from me.

My dog ROCKS.

A funny thing was that Lola's reaction to a dog approaching her had nothing to do with the size of the dog. And there were some frikkin HUGE beasts out there -- including one that looked like a gigantic white labrador, I have no idea what it was but it must have been over 100 pounds -- and also some teeny-tiny under-five-pound ones (a chihuahua and a mini-pin). Some of the little ones were all frisky and she couldn't be bothered with them, and then some of the largest ones were just lovely gentle giants, and they bent down to sniff her and she sniffed right back. The only problem was with a dog that was almost exactly her size -- a really fucking ugly white bull terrier. It wanted to tussle, and it sort of half-jumped on her and possibly bit her ear (bastard!) and she barked at it. Stupid ugly bull terriers. Who buys those nasty little mean rodent things anyway?

Anyway, I think Lola enjoyed the dog park. Here is Lola:

Here is Lola making a friend (yeah, no fucking clue what kind of dog that is. It looks like Sandy from Annie, though):

Here is me and Lola. Do I need a haircut or WHAT? Sheesh.

Here is me and Lola about 2.5 seconds later. Dogs sort of converge on you at dog parks. Did I mention that I love dog parks? And that I really need a haircut?

The German Shepherd at the front is Daisy Duke. She belongs to the lovely gentleman who took my photo. Daisy is the second dog of that name -- the original Daisy had to be put down last year because of back problems :-( This Daisy is eight months old, and while she loves people, she is not really a fan of other dogs. But she didn't eat Lola, so that's all good.

The big yellow lab at back totally loved me and sat on my feet while I petted him.

The gentleman who took my photo used to do something in Sacramento that sort of sounds like Colonial Williamsburg, except all about the gold rush. He'd be in his 1850s attire in a blacksmith shop and people would come in and he'd tell them this awesome story about slaves who were sent to California during the gold rush, but they weren't allowed to mine so they started a store and laundry, and ended up owning a whole bunch of land and being really successful. He told me the story and it was really fun.

That's possibly the most awesome thing about dog parks in Austin. Everyone is friendly. Everyone loves dogs, so you have at least one topic of conversation to chat about. Everyone is happy to be outdoors, with their pets, enjoying life, and enjoying being interested in the people and animals around them. It's wonderful.

Now, in fairness, I should point out that Norwood gets some negative press. Because it's the only fenced-in dog park, it's also the dog park where people (supposedly) take aggressive or disobedient dogs. I have read a few comments online about large dogs ganging up on a small dog at Norwood. All I can say is that my own experience was overwhelmingly positive. My dog behaved, everyone else's dog behaved (grr except for stupid bull terriers which are ugly and stupid), and a good time was had by all. For the first off-leash experience, Norwood gets a solid thumbs up.

Lola's Cousin

2008-08-06T19:29:00.001-05:00

Hello again, Internet. Meet Lotus Blossom, aka Lottie, aka Princess Poo-Face.

Lottie is my parents' dog. She is a pure-bred Shih Tzu, almost three years old, and 8.9 pounds, which makes her about as tiny as a Shih Tzu gets. It is entirely her fault that I wanted a dog in the first place.

As you can see, Lottie is black with white beard and paws, which is very rare. I have heard that in China, the black-on-white Shih Tzu is referred to as "Dark Clouds on Light Clouds" but I cannot find anything online to authenticate that.

(For comparison, Lola is a Lhasa-Poo -- a Lhasa Apso/Poodle -- weighing 13 pounds. Lhasas range from 12 to 18 pounds, according to the AKC, so I have a small one. Shih Tzu, however, range from 9 to 16 pounds, so Lottie is sort of abnormal. She was the runt of the litter. No one I've met has ever seen a Tzu so small.)

Lottie and Lola are cousins. This is a bit of a stretch, since Lottie is my parents' dog, and so technically Lottie and I would be sisters and Lottie would be Lola's aunt. I refuse to allow this. The damn dog may have taken over my parents' affections, but she is not a sibling. I hereby decree that she is one generation down from me.

Here is me with Lottie and Lola:

It is hard to take a picture of an all-black dog, so here is Lottie with Lottie's Mommy, against a white background:

Here is a close-up of Lottie and Lola:

Note that Lottie has two bows in her hair, to keep her bangs out of her eyes. She hates them, but they are adorable. I consider this to be a perfectly acceptable thing to do to small female dogs. If they didn't want to be accessorized, they should have been Rottweilers instead. I was hoping to grow out Lola's hair so I could do it to her as well, but I think it would only accentuate the missing eye, so I'll probably keep her the way she is.

Lottie has never had the chance to be friends with another doggie, whereas Lola has spent the last six months living at a doggie day care with twenty other little scruffbuckets. So initially, all Lola's overtures of "let's be friends and play!" (admittedly, some of those overtures took the form of barking and growling) were met with complete incomprehension, and a little fear. However, they've both settled down beautifully. They chase each other around the house and then fall asleep:

And finally, a gratuitous picture of my insanely adorable dog:

Not Only Adorable -- Also Useful!

2008-08-06T10:25:00.000-05:00

Yesterday I drove from Austin to Dallas to introduce The One-Eyed Wonder to Princess Poo-Face (more on that later). It was a great day for a drive -- clear weather, clear roads, and no one being a bloody stupid moron on the road.

Until I got to Temple, about an hour into the drive. There was a white car in the left-hand lane driving annoyingly slowly. I couldn't get around at first because this is the one place in the entire trip where I-35 actually curves. Then, when the road straightened out, a big blue mini-van sped past me, but inexplicably got into the left lane behind the white car. Then a little yellow car zipped past me and also refused to go past the white car.

"What the hell?" I thought. "Some doddering old idiot is in that car up ahead and everyone else is being just as stupid! Right. I'm getting past this clusterfuck." I got in the right-hand lane and hit the gas, and as I pulled abreast of the white car, I turned to glare at, I assumed, some old fart who couldn't be bothered to learn the rule about slow cars staying to the right.

Instead I found myself looking at the rear-window bars of an unmarked cop car. Did anyone else not see that coming?

So he pulls me over, and takes my license and insurance, and glances at my inspection and registrations stickers but they're both up to date (ha!).

"Hi, officer." (He's cute in an Ed-Harris-lookalike kind of way but I don't mention that.)

"What's the hurry, ma'am?"

"I'm just excited to get up to Dallas with my new dog." (Here Lola endearingly tilts her head to the side.)

"What's in Dallas?"

"My parents."

He heads back to his car to swipe my license, and I remind myself of my Philosophy of Speeding, which is as follows: it is worth paying a ticket every few years to be able to speed every time I take a road trip.

It doesn't seem very convincing right that second.

Then I realize that because he's parked behind me, he can see everything plastered on the back of my car, and not all of it is going to make me look good. For one thing there's the Tinkerbell wheel cover, which will make me look like some empty-headed sanrio-shopping teenager. Then there's the bumper sticker (applied by my aunt, not me!) cheerfully proclaiming, "Tattoos, Piercing, and Pain -- It's a Good Thing!" which may ingratiate me with the goth crowd but probably not so much with law enforcement. The Marines bumper sticker fell off, so I don't have any respectable ties to the military and national security. And the only evidence of my law school affiliation is the slightly cryptic "Make Love, Not Law Review!" which he's probably going to think is a reference to fornication rather than public service lawyering!

I'm screwed.

He comes back to my window, hands me my license and insurance and says, "Well, you haven't had a ticket in a few years. So slow down, okay?"

"Yes, sir! Thank you!"

I have never ever ever been let off with a warning. Ever. So it's totally due to Lola and her awesome powers of awesomeness.

Lola's First Bath

2008-08-03T14:22:00.001-05:00

Sadly, folks, I have no photos of Lola's First Bath. That's because Lola's Daddy took the digital camera out of town with him. Now, I am a Generous Person with a Heart of Gold (although not the Firefly kind) and I am always happy to lend people things. But if I'd realized that being camera-less this weekend meant missing the chance to take photos of my dog looking like a drowned rat in my bathtub for the first time, I think I would have told Lola's Daddy that bathtime comes first and his high school reunion was just going to have to wait.

I have had Lola for eleven days now and we have done many, many things. We've gone to Crown & Anchor and Petsmart and Billy's on Burnet and Auditorium Shores and the 406 and Blue Dahlia and Freddie's. And Lola has been a very well-adjusted little dog -- especially for a rescue dog who has just met me! -- and she happily goes for walks through the park and hangs out with me at restaurants and is mostly friendly to my friends and we've just had a grand old time.

But you know what all these wonderful doggie activities have in common? They're all OUTSIDE. And you know what happens when dogs spend a lot of time running about outside, frisking and gamboling and the like? They start to STINK.

After our morning activities today, Lola was a particularly smelly, muddy little girl. Right, I thought, time to bite the bullet. We stopped off at Petsmart and bought:

1. Doggie shampoo (holy shit does this stuff have petals from the tree of life in it or something? Because I don't spend that much on shampoo for me!)

2. A doggie towel (super-absorbent microfiber!!!)

3. A squeaky stuffed lamb (because I cannot walk out of that store without a new toy for the One-Eyed Wonder.)

4. Pink poo-bags (because apparently, for the first time in my life, I want to be pathetically girly.)

We got home and a few minutes later the bathtub contained:

1. Me, naked, supposedly projecting "calm-assertive dominance" as recommended by Cesar Millan

2. Lola, with her leash wrapped around the faucet

3. A few inches of warm water

Internet, she was perfect. She stood quietly while I got her all wet. She stood quietly as I shampooed her. She stood quietly as I lifted up her feet out of the water, one at a time, to shampoo them too. She stood quietly as I rinsed her off. She was only marginally wriggly as I dried her off. She then went batshit crazy running around the apartment, but that part was kinda funny.

Either I have the best dog in the universe, or Cesar Millan really knows his shit.

The One-Eyed Wonder

2008-08-01T11:31:00.000-05:00

Internet, meet Lola:

This is the first picture of Lola that I ever saw. It's from her Petfinder listing by the wonderful people at Lone Star Shih Tzu and Lhasa Apso Rescue. The quizzical head-tilt, the muddy feet from playing around outside, the adorableness of having only one eye -- how could I resist? And then, the little blurb describing her said she plays well with other dogs, loves car rides, and loves sleeping in laps!

Off I went to Houston, confident that -- as long as she didn't instantly hate me -- I'd be coming back to Austin with a dog.

Here is me with a very fluffy Lola at the doggie day care she was living at:

Here is what Lola looked like for 95% of the three-hour car ride home:

And here is what Lola looked like for the other 5% of the car ride home:

Finally, here is what Lola looked like after she was groomed. I knew there was a cute tiny dog underneath all that fluff!

That last one is an action shot. You can't really tell, but Lola has a Teeny Greenie in her mouth. She is about to jump off the bed and hide underneath while she eats it. She is very protective of her treats.