Maddie, Emerald, and Koda Bear try out beds on Sunday during Small Dog Social.
And previously at Small Dog Social: The Usual Suspects, Hannah and Emma Parsley.
Maddie's having a long, slow day at Our Best Friends. "Where is everybody? Hiding from the heat? Somebody come buy something, quick!"
During a lull in the action, I’d excused myself to run the afternoon’s mail back to the folks in the back of the building, leaving Maddie to watch the store. But when I made it back up front a matter of minutes later, she wasn’t on the couch where I’d left her. I glanced behind the counter, looked in the office, and checked the beds before scrutinizing the very front of the store.
“Hey,” called Maddie as I walked near the front door. “Do you wanna buy a book? We’ve got a bunch of good books, and we’re making crazy deals.” She’d stationed herself beneath the front sale table, comfortable on the We Eat Like Pigs welcome mat underneath. “You buy one book at full price, and you get the second one for free. Free! How could you resist a bargain like that? And we’ve even got a cool sign.”
“It’s only me, Maddie.” I bent down to her level. “But that was a pretty good sales pitch. Are you comfortable?”
“Yeah,” she answered. “It’s comfy. And it’s hard to tell from just legs. But now that you mention it, I should have recognized your boots. They need polishing.”
I shrugged. “Any customers while I was in back?”
“Just one. A police dog, Officer Rex. He dropped off a flyer.” She yawned, then nodded toward the counter. “We got started talking, and I was telling him about your other job. He seemed real interested.”
I scratched my chin, pensive. “Maddie, what did you tell Officer Rex that I do?”
“I said you were a bookmaker. Like I said, he seemed really interested…”
“Maddie.”
“What?”
“I’m not a bookmaker.”
“What, you make books, right? I mean, you do other stuff, too, but mostly you guys make books, right?”
“Well, sure, but that’s not the right word. I’m an editor, for a book publisher. Not a ‘bookmaker,’ that’s something else entirely.”
“Oh,” said Maddie, thoughtfully scratching an ear. “So what’s a bookmaker do?”
“A bookmaker is a betting agent. They’re also called ‘bookies.’ If somebody wants to gamble on, say, a horse race, they would place their bet with a bookie.”
Switching ears, Maddie said, “My bad. But why was Officer Rex so interested then?”
“Because with a handful of exceptions, bookmaking is illegal.” I thrust my hands into my pockets. “Oh, boy,” I sighed, then sat down with my head in my hands. “Now I’m going to have to explain myself to a German Shepherd.”
“That’s okay,” said Maddie. “I already took care of it.”
“What’d you do?” I asked, mentally working on my alibi.
“Well, he said something about ‘backup,’ so when he was leaving, just as he was heading out the door, I got a hold of his back leg, kinda like this.” She grabbed the cuff of my pants with her teeth, then stepped backwards, tugging.
In my head, I scratched out one alibi and started working on another. “Maddie--”
She let go of my cuff. “And then you know what I did next?”
I knew the answer couldn’t be good. “What?”
“Once I had a good grip on his leg, he yelped, so I pulled it. I pulled it hard... Just like I’m pulling yours.”
A moment passed. Maddie grinned up at me. “I really had you going, didn’t I? Too bad I don't know any bookies, I'd have won big if I'd bet you'd buy that hook, line, and sinker.”
I shook my head, relieved. “Okay, you got me.”
Maddie chuckled. “That was funny. I'm funny. Maybe I should write a book.”
“Would you give me one for free?”
“I'll make you a deal,” said Maddie, “You buy the first one at full price, and I’ll see what I can do for you.”
"I guess that means you like the horses."
She nodded. "Yeah. They're awesome."
We watched as row after row of horses passed. Three rows in, Maddie's ears perked up and she glanced up at me. "Why are there horses on our street?" she asked. "Hey horses," she called, turning back toward the magnificent beasts. "Where are you going?"
"It's Butter and Egg Day, remember," I replied. We watched as the horses continued queuing up.
"Oh, that would explain all the chickens and stuff at Our Best Friends on Friday. Y'know, that would be the coolest job in the world."
"Our Best Friends?" I responded, confused. "Maddie, you already work over at Our Best Friends."
"No, not that," said Maddie. "Sheesh. I mean the horses."
"You want to be a horse?"
"No, I want to ride a horse. That'd be the coolest."
I chuckled.
"What, I could be a cowgirl," said Maddie. "I could ride a horse."
"You have ridden Champion at Heebe Jeebe."
"That's just not the same," said Maddie.
The horses past, Maddie watched a young man roll a cart up the street in their wake. "What's he doing?" she asked. As if answering, he scraped up a cluster of road apples with his rake and deposited them into his cart. Maddie's gaze narrowed. "Ooooh," she said. "I take it all back. That would be the coolest job in the world."
( More behind the cut... )
Pics from the latest Small Dog Social at Our Best Friends just went live. Click on Atticus, the portly pug above, to check 'em out.
"Hey Hannah," asked Maddie, rounding the corner. "I heard singing." She stopped, puzzled. "Who are your friends?"
"I am among the Moose," sang Hannah, in a low and tuneless dirge.
"I am among the Moose...
"There's no excuse, no truce...
"For Gander or for Goose...
"And you'll never, never, ever get loose...
"Once you're among the Moose."
"What are you doing?" asked Maddie. "It looks kinda weird."
"It's a performance piece," replied Hannah. "This isn't weird, this is art."
"But I don't get it," said Maddie. "And isn't there usually cheese at art openings?"
"Oh, foo," huffed Hannah, crestfallen. "No great artist is ever appreciated in her lifetime."
"That's okay," said Maddie, stepping forward and resting a paw on Hannah's shoulder. "Maybe I was just looking at things from the wrong angle."
It all started Monday morning, with the tone of the week set by the death of an old friend's mom. I read the signs; the augury foretold: It's going to be a crappy week, might as well lie back and enjoy the ride. Sure enough, later that morning, my primary e-mail, writing, and photography computer decided to show signs of infection (weird pop-up windows attempting to sell me anti-virus software, among other things). Where did I catch it? I wracked my brain, seeking answers, then realized: That damned faux-Etsy website StumbleUpon tumbled me onto the previous night! Beware malicious crafters, they have far too much time on their hands. Now I should have gone with my gut, called in sick, and gone back to bed right then and there, but determined not to let the week get the better of me, I walked Maddie to the park and back, then loaded her into the Prius, loaded up my gear, then started the car, only to be met by the dreaded “check engine” light.
Here's the thing, I'd already scheduled an appointment scheduled for Wednesday at the nearby Toyota dealership, since the car was about 900 miles overdue for an oil change (it's got 135K on it) and it was making an annoying noise, one I started noticing right before the holidays, but hadn't had time to deal with then, a low thrumming noise that shifted pitch with acceleration. So I called the Toyota dealership up and explained the problem. They told me to bring the car on in, quoting me a $160 estimate to diagnose the engine light. So I unloaded Maddie and my backpack, started up the car (no check engine light this time, was it just cold?) and drove on over to Toyota. Once there, I explained that there were no warning lights now, suggested that it was possibly a combination of environmental factors that caused the light, and asked them to go ahead and do the scheduled maintenance, watching for any warnings in the meantime.
Well, the maintenance went just swimmingly. No warning lights, no problems. Unfortunately, the noise was diagnosed as something else entirely: a bad wheel bearing. Driveable, if annoying, but has a chance of locking up. Quote to fix: $860. And the part wasn't in stock. So we picked up the car, paid for our glorified oil change (just over $250), and I drove it home.
On Tuesday, I left Maddie at home when I drove down to the 'Shade, just in case, playing my iPod extra loud to drown out the jet engine whine. While there, I arranged a better quote ($500) via e-mail with Out West Garage, a locally-owned shop within walking distance of the house (recommended by, well, just about everybody in town). Then I arranged to work from home for the next couple of days so that I could get the car taken care of. Good thing, since another car problem arose that very afternoon: Jennifer called, she'd just been rear-ended. So I finished up what I could with work and headed on home, fearing the worst. Fortunately, the worst wasn't too bad, Jennifer was okay, and, though the bumper was a mess, the car was still drivable. I'll leave that whole story to her, if she's so inclined (she's got pictures!).
So in short, it's been a week of annoyance. But we made it through. It's Friday, and Jennifer and I managed to make the best of a bad week, staying afloat by reading, playing Rock Band (Jennifer sings, Maddie plays drums!), and enjoying one another's company. Not bad at all. Today, my car's at Out West Garage (I dropped it off bright and early this morning, walking home in the shivering cold) and we've got an estimate for the repairs to Jennifer's car, which will ultimately be covered by the insurance company.
And so I'm sitting here in the living room, drinking my coffee and typing, enjoying the moment, the hopeful end of a frustrating week. Sure, I'm headed off to work at Our Best Friends in a bit, and next week will bring its own challenges, but for right now, I've got fireplace on, Maddie's curled up and napping nearby, and Sigur Rós blankets us in 5.1 surround.
UPDATE: Out West Garage called at quarter after ten, saying the car was ready to go, and that the fix was easier than expected. Grand total: $407.62, nearly ninety-three dollars cheaper than the estimate. Awesome! Now, off to Our Best Friends with Maddie. Now, if I can just figure out how to get VirtuMonde off my computer, I'll be happy. At least reasonably so...
So the big guy called me up and said, "Maddie, I'm going to need your help this year. Times are rough. I've got three reindeer down with the flu, the elves are demanding hazard pay, the price of coal is way up, and Christmas is in danger of being canceled."
Well, when Mr. C. says he needs your help, you can't say no. So here I am, all suited up and ready to fly. Soon, we'll be taking to the skies, delivering presents to all the good boys and girls.
I'll be checking off his list, while he does the heavy lifting. Though I may get to help out with a little bit of special "stocking stuffin'", if you know what I mean. 'Cause Christmas can't be canceled. Not if I have anything to say about it. Folks are countin' on us.
So Merry Christmas to all! We'll be flyin' by your house soon. Are you going to need me to put in a good word for you?
"Thanks for coming in and Happy Holidays," said Maddie, wagging her tail as she followed the woman to the door.
"You mean 'Merry Christmas,'" replied the shopper, placing her hands on her hips and looking Maddie in the eye.
"No," replied Maddie, shaking her head. "I said 'Happy Holidays.'"
"That's cute, little doggie, but you should say 'Merry Christmas,' after all, it's the reason for the season."
"No it's not," said Maddie, flatly. "It's the earth's axial tilt that causes the seasons, the 'obliquity of the ecliptic.' I read that on the Internet." She leaned to the left, as if to illustrate her point. "It's twenty three and a half degrees."
"It's a lot warmer than that," said the woman, looking through the door at the sunny day. "And you really should say 'Merry Christmas.' It's the only holiday that matters."
"Oh phooey," said Maddie, shaking her head. "I say 'Happy Holidays' because it's plural. There's a bunch of holidays in December. I read all about it on the Internet. More than just Christmas. I say 'Happy Holidays' 'cause I want you to have a happy Sinterklaas Day, a happy Finnish Independence Day, a happy Saint Nicholas Day, a happy Saint Lucy's Day, a happy solstice, a happy South African Day of Reconciliation, a happy Human Rights Day, a happy Emperor's Birthday (that's Japanese), a happy Boxing Day, a happy Hanukkah, a happy Kwanzaa, and a happy Eid al-Adha. And that's just a few of them."
The woman started to say something, but Maddie continued, backing her towards the door. "And furthermore, I think you should have a festive Festivus, though I'm pretty sure somebody just made that one up, a triumphant Egil Skallagrimsson's Day, a gaja Zamenhof Day, a stupendous Saturnalia, an excellent New Year's Eve, and a Merry Christmas. That's a lot of holidays for one month. And I want 'em all to be happy. So you'd better get busy..."
As Maddie was explaining, the woman backed through the door, got into her car, and drove off.
"...if you're gonna have Happy Holidays!" called Maddie after her. "All of 'em, not just Christmas."
Behind the counter, I just shook my head. "You know, Maddie," I said. "Sometimes you can be a little intense."
"Oh, foo," said Maddie. "I just thought she needed to know. Why just settle for one holiday when there's so many?"
"So do you have a favorite holiday, Maddie?"
Maddie thought about this for a moment, then said "Oh, Christmas. That's my favorite. 'Cause there's food. And presents. And songs. And I get to see Grandma."
"Didja ever wonder what would happen," pondered Maddie, lounging on the couch at Our Best Friends, "if gravity just suddenly decided to go the other direction? It would be pretty cool, at first, walking around on the ceiling, but going through doors would be pretty hard, since you'd have to climb up and over the doorjamb. I guess you'd have to put in stairs. And everything would probably fall from the floor up to the ceiling, and that would be a big mess, 'cause stuff would fall out of drawers. And you probably wouldn't want to go outside, because then you'd fall up, and just keep falling up until you ended up in outer space or something, which would be bad. But then, what if I was the only one that gravity went all wacko on? I could walk around on clean ceilings, though I'd have to stay away from the ceiling fan. And you could take me outside for walks, on a leash, as always, but I'd float above your head like a balloon."
"You're a very weird dog, Maddie," I said, reaching down to scratch her belly.
Maddie squinted up at me. "Oh, foo. Like you've never thought of it. Besides, you look funny upside down."
---
Maddie listens to tunes...
"Play it again," demanded Maddie.
"Are you sure?" I asked. "This will make the fifth time through."
"But it's vinyl. It sounds so much better than CDs, or when you play music on the computer. It's warmer. You say so yourself."
"Yeah," I answer. "But you've already had me play this one four times. At least pick a different record than Henry Mancini's The Cop Show Themes."
"But I wanna hear the Theme from 'S.W.A.T.' again."
"Come on, pick something else. Please."
"You could put on Sebastian Speaks," suggested Maddie.
I considered this, rubbing my chin, then shrugged. "You win. The Theme from 'S.W.A.T.' it is."
---
Maddie meets Paris Roubaix...
We've got a new Dachshund in the neighborhood, Paris Roubaix. Yes, after talking about it for ages, Claire and Saul finally adopted a dog, which has turned out to be a little bit more of an adventure than either one of them anticipated. Some dogs have issues; Paris has a subscription. And she prefers to stand directly behind women. But give it time, I'm sure Paris will eventually fit right in.
Claire and Paris. That's Claire on the left.
Maddie, Paris, and feet.
Maddie says: "Hey! Pictures from the latest Small Dog Social at Our Best Friends just went live. Yeah, it took almost a whole week this time, 'cause Ross was really busy. Sorry 'bout that. And we've switched from Flickr to Photobucket 'cause, despite what Flickr says, twenty five bucks a year ain't cheap. So come on by and check 'em out."
This is Charlie. He thinks you should go check out the pictures from the latest Small Dog Social at Our Best Friends. After you get him a biscuit, of course.
"It's a tough decision," says Maddie. "One you gotta make this time every year in Petaluma. Maybe you folks out there can help me decide. So what do you say...?"
( Help Maddie decide behind the cut... )
We got to meet Annie today at the second First Sunday Small Dog Social over at Our Best Friends. Click here to check out all the pictures.
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lossrockhart- Ross E. Lockhart
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