Happiness is a warm puppy

If anyone ever asks, the way to my heart is with a dog. You know how some people are baby crazy? I’m dog crazy.

My best friend just had a baby and he is beautiful. I met him at a week and a half and I wanted to hold him. His aunt said, “You can pick him up,” and I said, “I don’t know how.” I said that if there were a puppy, I’d be all up in its face. Which I proved earlier this week, when my coworker brought in her 2-month-old dachshund. I snatched that puppy right out of her lap.

When I see a dog on the street, even if it’s an ugly or uncharismatic creature, I shriek, “Doggie!” either out loud or in my head.

I brought Isis to work on New Year’s Eve, when I was the only one in the office. She was mostly good and we went on a great walk on top of the river dike across the street from my office. She did, however, bark like the vicious protector against evil that she is at a couple of guys in parkas outside my window and later at an older guy getting out of his truck.

There’s one other person here today, but it’s been almost as slow as it was on the last day of the year. I wish Isis were here. Or that I could at least see her on the petcam. I’m not sure there’s even been a single person outside my window that Isis would have barked at were she here, but it doesn’t really matter. I think I have to come to terms with the fact that she’s not a great office dog.