And I Interrupt Summer Programs to Celebrate the Terror-ier Black Nosed Cur Dog's 28th Birthday (Well, She's Four).

Actually, Karal is probably a little older than 4, but yesterday was the anniversary when I picked her up. Chitunga moved out, I swore no more dogs, but then she appeared on a timeline and within seconds I was intrigued. Didn't really discuss it with anyone, but drove to Rye-Harrison and sat with the care-take for over an hour because...well....her behavior didn't convince m she would be the greatest companion. She barked at every dog and never sat still for a second. It wasn't until I made up my mind that this probably wasn't the dog for me, when she suddenly ran over to me and sat by my side loyal. It's like she knew she was mine, but didn't want to adopt me until I was getting ready to leave.

She's always been good on a leash, has been trainable for tricks, but no coaching gets her from jumping and nibbling on clothes and shoelaces to get attention. Not mine. She can care less about me; she's only interested in those that aren't me. She pesters them (annoys them) for attention. I've tried everything to calm her down: trainers, treats, videos, and she is simply spastic. Hoping in her 28th year, she settles some.

Karal has excessive energy. Her zoomies can last 30 minutes and she's in full greyhound sprints. She loves her bay window like Glamis did, and when it's just the two of us, she insists on lying on my shoulders, at my feet, or in my lap. She barks at me at 8 pm to put her to ged (which means she wants me to lie with her and give her a doggie massage. She's also great friends with Jake, which was inevitable. 

And today, it is editing day. Fridays are always a mountain to achieve the impossible, so Thursday is about peeling the layers backwards. The kids have been their usual amazing selves and now it's time to simply get the work done.