Waiting game

The best piece of advice I got this weekend about getting people to tell you their stories is, “You have to be willing to hang out.”

This is especially true in my current position, where my boss encourages me to get out and visit each of the seven tribes I work for.

The challenge is how not to feel like an idiot, dropping in and sitting around. The speaker who gave this advice told of a woman she visited no fewer than NINE times before she got the story…and even then, the permission came from the woman’s husband. At one point, she found the woman barefoot on her porch.

“Excuse me, I’m going to go inside and put on some shoes,” the woman said. And never came back.

Dog Day Afternoon

Now that was a fantastic weekend. What could be better than spending two days listening to professionals who inspire you to improve your craft, and then going back to your hotel room to be with your favorite two creatures in the world?

Of course, when I finished today, this was how I found them:

Isis was great last night, by the way, only woke up once barking.
We stopped in Seattle on the drive home, because we hadn’t been to enough bookstores. Then we took Isis to a dog park by Lake Washington where dogs can swim!
This is a dog who know what’s up.

Isis was too shy to get more than her paws wet, but you can see how it might have been a little daunting for her. She hadn’t seen so many dogs since she left her littermates!

Not in Portland

I always get lost in Portland. Always. I have fairly decent maps of downtown, but none that actually show how to get back to the hotel. Which is really easy to find, if one can find the freeway. Also, even if I decide what exit will get me closest to my destination, somehow, I never actually get off at that exit or it winds up leading me somewhere totally unexpected.

Good thing driving with Isis and Rob is so pleasant!

We discovered another Powell’s and I spent another $40 on books.

I have a wonderful guide for traveling with your dog in the Pacific Northwest. It suggested two places for dinner in the general vicinity of the other Powell’s. (Also worth mentioning is that one of the wiener dogs who helped research the book is named Isis!)

The Lucky Lab seemed the better bet on paper, but when we got there it had a decidedly frat house feel, with picnic tables and peanut shells. The only reason we didn’t even stay for one drink was because there was some really loud microphone/contest something-or-other going on.

Instead, we wound up at the charming Berlin Inn (more fitting anyway, as we are all German). Isis ordered the Mutt Mix, I had portabella “fingers,” a Riesling blend, a chocolate Grand Marnier torte and Rob had smoked salmon potato pancakes, bier and a lemon cake, which he shared with the dog. Isis was only a little frightened of the perfectly well-behaved dog at the next table. And only got a little restless and whiny, but it was a really cute place and the staff was quite friendly.

Smells fishy

We went to a salmon BBQ yesterday before we hit the road. We sat at a picnic bench as skewers of salmon filets were cooked over a big barbecue, the smoke blowing in our faces. Smelled good.

When I washed my hair this morning with hotel-provided coconut, verbena and lime shampoo, I noticed that my hair had retained that smoky smell.

Afterward, I got back into bed with my dog, and she smelled like it too!

I think she’s doing extremely well

For her first time sleeping somewhere other than our bedroom since November…Isis had a spectacular night. For me, not so much. It’s hard to fall back asleep when you’re anticipating the next time someone’s going to walk through the halls speaking in a loud voice, provoking your extremely well-behaved dog to bark.

She’s not one of those dogs that barks for no reason. Granted we don’t always know what the reason is, but she doesn’t just bark out of boredom. A few months ago, when I took her to work, she barked every time someone passed by my window, but I guess she’s learned that those people aren’t a threat. And she never barks when people walk past the car. Unless they’re with a dog and usually only if the other dog barks first.

It had not occurred to me that barking would be a problem in a hotel, if we didn’t leave her in the room alone. But sure enough, as soon as it was clear that it was bedtime, all the noises in the hallway became dangers that she must alert us to. With loud, aggressive barking.

At midnight, this was a huge concern, because it was late enough that many people would be asleep but not so late that it would be unreasonable for people to be in the halls. But at 3 and 4 in the morning, I started to blame the people in the halls. If they weren’t speaking in their outside voices, they wouldn’t have woken and scared my dog. It seemed like the same group of people, and they passed through the halls many, many times.

The good news is that she did seem to get desensitized to it, so that the slightest noise in the hall didn’t prompt a barking jag. The bad news is that she can still make noise while muzzled and after finally falling asleep again, somewhere around 5, with my face very close to hers, so I could grab her and shut her up as soon as a bark began to erupt, she woke with a start and I lifted my head to stop her and she head-butted me. Or we head-butted each other. In the same spot where I whacked my oribital bone yesterday on the latch to the dog gate. That one was totally my fault.

Shortly thereafter, a knock on the door (this is at 6:15) inspired a small vocalization through her muzzle. At the door, a hotel staffer. “Good morning! Did you order room service?” Most definitely, not.

All things considered, she never barked for more than a second or two, and only about once an hour. Other than that she’s been absolutely perfect. Even eliminated on cue this morning.

As for me, I’m a little worried about falling asleep in my writers workshop. And it’s still an hour until breakfast.

Isis is a camel

Greetings from Portland, Ore. I can see Washington from here. Our hotel is practically on the bridge between Oregon and Washington. We have a river view.

Isis peed as usual when I let her out this morning at 6 or 7. I don’t even remember seeing her poop before we left on our journey. We gave her several opportunities to relieve herself throughout the day, but she doesn’t like to go anywhere except her own lawn. We thought the little park outside the Flagship REI in Seattle was ideal…but she wasn’t interested.

About two hours later, she was finally ready. It was about 5:30 and she took the longest pee I’ve ever seen her take within a minute of her release from the car. And didn’t go again until about 20 minutes ago. And it took some coaxing.

Apparently I should have trained her to go while on a leash. After a 20 minute walk, I let her loose on the grassy hill around a tennis court by the river bank. It was nervous-making, because as I expected, she raced around in circles like a demon. But she was good and stayed within sight and came to me when I called her (as long as I then ran in the opposite direction so she could chase me.) Eventually she remembered nature’s call and did all the business I needed her to do so that I can go to sleep and not worry about her soiling this nice hotel room.

Oh, and I bought $100 in books at Powell’s. While Isis roasted in the car. Rob only spent $92.

The End

Listening to audio books has its pros and cons, naturally. The biggest negative is not being able to flip back a few pages or several chapters to re-read something, and then flip back to where you were. Also, if for example, your boyfriend wants to listen to a shitty CD in your car, and he ejects the disc…you lose your place.

Surprisingly, cassettes have the advantage in that case, because you can transfer a tape from stereo to stereo and hold your place.

On the plus side, if the reader is skilled, they can really perform the hell out of a book, and that can be fun. Al Franken’s Lies and the Lying Liars Who Tell Them was like listening to politically charged stand-up.

Also, you know how some books go on a little too long describing something…when you’re listening to it, you can kind of zone out and get through it, rather than having to make the difficult choice between slogging through it on paper or consciously skipping it.

Here’s the thing that’s thrown me every time with the audio books. You don’t know when they’re going to end. Even when you’re in the high numbered tracks on the last disc, you don’t have the benefit of knowing that you have only a few pages, then a few paragraphs, then a few words, before it’s over.

Imagine my surprise with Bee Season, when I was nearing the end of disc 10 of an 11-disc set, to hear the words “The End.” Disc 11, it turned out, was an interview with the author, which was great, but boy, I was expecting another hour of story!

Best in Show

You know how everyone thinks their dog (or their kid) is the most beautiful in the world? Turns out, mine really is!

It’s actually a bit embarrassing. This must be how Brad Pitt’s girlfriend must feel. Except not, because she’s Angelina Jolie and not too shabby herself.

I took Isis to the dog park for the first time today. I haven’t taken her before, because she’s not all that reliable when it comes to returning to me. A lot of dog parks around here aren’t actually fenced, and I’m afraid of her getting away. Not that she wouldn’t come back, but who wants to wait for her to be good and ready…or for her to get hit by a car.

We had a positive off-leash experience at dog class last week, and today was so lovely I wanted to take her somewhere more special than the woodsy trail near our house. (Yes, even lovely woods can get old.) After getting lost bigtime (I don’t want to talk about it), we arrived at a fenced dog park near a lake about 10 minutes from our house. It only took an hour to get there.

I just wanted her to run around with some other dogs. I wasn’t fishing for compliments or expecting every owner in the place to ooh and ahh at my dog. Seriously. We just want to live normal lives. We’re just like everyone else. Except spectacularly beautiful.

“Where’d you get your German shepherd?”
“She’s a beautiful German shepherd.”
“Honey, did you see the German shepherd?”

And these are people who can tell the difference between an American German shepherd and and Eastern European German shepherd. That last comment was followed by a whole discussion, as if we weren’t standing right there, about how hideous, slope-backed and scrawny American-bred German shepherds are.

The folks were also huge fans of her little beaded necklace, which we won in a drawing for getting spayed in February–National Spay Month.

Most of the other dogs were your bossy little terriers or sweet-tempered pit bull terriers. Isis played very well with them, and none of them attacked her for being so much more beautiful than they are. Guess they were just in awe.

Can you even believe I don’t have a picture to post of the event. I know, right?