Meet the new boss…

My roommate moved out today, taking Cooper on a long road trip back to Portland.

Sure, this is great for her life goals of finishing her degree and getting a job she likes and being near her family. But WTF, that’s my step-dog!

Who will chew the tassels off my slippers and sneak up behind me on the couch to remove the scrunchies from my ponytail, with his teeth?

Who will make off with any paper towel or Kleenex left anywhere in the vicinity? (Have I ever mentioned Cooper’s paper products fetish?) Who will leave meat unmolested on the counter, but leap up anytime there’s a shot at the butter?

Who will wriggle his butt while he backs away when I come home, chew-toy in mouth and looking for all the world like a haughty horse so that while I chase him down for tug-of-war I’m forced to inform him that he’s not as special as he thinks he is, are you, My Little Pony?

Who will put his paws on my arms as I rub his belly first thing every morning, reminding me yet again that, in fact, he is the alpha and I exist to do his bidding?

(My sad attempts at being an alpha dog worked about as well as Cooper’s efforts at chasing his tail… occasional success breeding overexcitement and subsequent flailing back into failure. I tried resigning myself to being the beta dog, but my roommate told me sadly that I’m more of a gamma.)

Luckily, to temper my pain, I have a very nice new roommate moving in. And she doesn’t come alone.

Everyone? This is Arthur.

Pumpkin Cooper

Cooper Loves Me!

And despite how mean I am to him*, I love him too.

* Have I mentioned before on-blog how my favorite activity at home is to say really mean things to Cooper, in a really nice tone of voice? “Hello, you terrible dog! You are a maker of trouble! You do nothing but create problems for me and other people! Look at you wag your tail like you think that’s okay! You think you can get by on being cute, but your looks won’t last forever! You’ll see!” Like that.

Other times I tell him about how he’s a mediocre dog, perfectly acceptable, but nothing special like he seems to think he is. (Which, obviously, is false. Look at him! So special!) Now that I’m writing this out, I’ve become positive that I picked it up from Peter Cameron.

House? Warmed.

Continuing my Anastasia Krupnik-esque style of late (and Bud E. Caldwell, and all the millions of other children’s book characters writing in lists), not to mention my theme of talking a lot about myself/dog and little about books (sorry!):

By popular demand... Cooper! Now I only need to manage to upload some video of him chasing his tail.

Lawn games played at my housewarming party:

• Monkey in the Middle, which evolved into Cooper (my step-dog) in the Middle, which evolved to Keep Cooper Out of the Middle of the Food.
• Testes toss. No, that’s not what it’s really called.

Things I cooked for my housewarming party:

• Deviled chicken thighs. Twenty two of them, to be precise. Increasing the mustard, shallots and parsley was a good move.
• A very large pot of curried squash and eggplant, with pineapple. Yummy, but I should have made it spicier.
• Mango lassi… with homemade yogurt. Yeah, slow cooker.

I was going to also make a salad and chocolate pudding, but let’s be real, I’m not that organized.

Disasters that occurred during the cooking for my housewarming party:

• Suddenly deciding to procure drinks while curry curries —> curry bubbles over —> curry onto floor
• Forgetting to depit one mango before putting it in blender —> pit chunks into lassi —> trying to strain lassi —> lassi onto floor

The cooking, folks, is a work in progress. Luckily, Cooper is an excellent helper when it comes to foodstuffs on the floor. And speaking of Cooper…

Most horrifying/hilarious thing that happened at my housewarming party:

When a friend arrived with his very charming six-year-old, we discovered that Cooper loves little kids. More precisely, Cooper loves that little kids are exactly the right size for him to hump.

Unfortunately, this child happened to also love that he was exactly the right size for Cooper to hump (or, in his understanding, exactly the right size for “giving Cooper a ride”). Which meant that he kept bending over for Cooper and yelling, “Oh yeah! Oh yeah!”

His dad was not very pleased. I, unfortunately, was in hysterics, which only encouraged the kid to keep doing it… over and over and over again.

UPDATED to add: WordPress wouldn’t let me upload this, but do yourself a favor and go find Big Mama Thornton’s original “Hound Dog,” the ideal soundtrack to this post. Elvis took this brilliant song and made it… about a dog.

Wednesday Words: Canine communication

More firmly, Greenwood said, “Sit.”

The dog lifted out of his crouch and stood looking at Greenwood in a fair imitation of His Master’s Voice. Who, he was clearly thinking, was this stranger who knew how to speak Dog?

– Donald Westlake, THE HOT ROCK

Yes, today’s Wednesday Words is also in honor of my new life with Cooper. I am still working on being the Alpha Dog. I went running with Cooper, which was fantastic until he saw a cat. Then my commands were suddenly ineffectual as — hours of “Body Pump” be damned — I strained to hold back the beast. (My reasoning to him that, “That cat lives around here. It has a right to be here.” having failed to sink in.)

The worst, though, was when a small but belligerent dog approached Cooper with a confidence that belied his stature. He continually advanced as I yanked Cooper ever farther back to avoid his hurting the little thing. What a humiliation for Cooper, I thought, forced to retreat in the face of this pipsqueak.

It’s a tough life for a Golden Doodle in Madison.

Wednesday Words: Misanthrophic anthropomorphizing.

Today’s Wednesday Words is in honor of my just having moved in with a dog!

I stopped at home for a pee and something to drink on the way back to the gallery. Miró was lying in the bahtub. He often lies there in the summer, because it’s cool, I think. He opened his eyes and watched me judgmentally. I wondered for a moment if it was okay to urinate in front of a dog, and then realized how absurd that was, so I gave Miró a kind of fuck-you-you’re-a-dog look. In private I’m often nasty to Miró. I say things to him like “You’re just a dog. You don’t have a passport or a Social Security number. You can’t even open doors. You’re totally at my mercy.” Or “Get a haircut. Put on some shoes.” I know he doesn’t understand what I’m saying, but I think he suspects something’s not quite right.

Cooper

– Peter Cameron, SOMEDAY THIS PAIN WILL BE USEFUL TO YOU

“My” (roommate’s) dog is named Cooper. He is a mix of golden retriever and poodle… who knew there was such a thing? He looks like an Irish setter, which makes me really, really want to reread THE 101 DALMATIANS, even though I last read it (for about the dozenth time) less than a year ago.

Cooper chases his tail. I did not know that dogs did this in actuality. He has a long tail, so when he goes slow he can catch it in his mouth and run around like that for a while, but when he gets too excited, his tail-chasing momentum spins his whole body around and his tail flips away from him and he just keeps flailing his whole body in a circle. It is possibly the funniest thing I have ever seen.