Monday, June 27, 2011

Aiming Practice.

Orion sticks his nose in my face.
"What time is it?"
He whines.
"Come here."
I pull him onto the bed so I can procrastinate in the waking up process by distracting him with scratches. I start to fall asleep mid scratch.
"We got up at 4 AM. I know you can't possibly have to poop again."
He makes a grab for my wrist.
"Not that hand. Remember, this one is wounded because you don't know how to run in a straight line. It's out of commission." It's true. My poor hand has a gash on it from an early morning sprint that ended with me in the concrete and Orion puzzled with why when he went to check out the neighbors grass I tripped over him and groaned. One skinned knee, shoulder, hand and ripped pair of pants later the hand was still out of commission.
"Okay, okay. I'm up." I motivate myself to toss my legs over the edge of the bed, snatch my glasses from the lamp, and stand up.
"Let's go get you breakfast," I say, but Orion has taken the slight delay as an opportunity to practice his liter box. I turn towards him at the sound of peeing.
Well, too late. I think, pleased at least that he's in his litter box. Pleased until I poke my head around the bedroom door and notice my art smock a slightly different shade, pressed against the litter box.
"Orion, we need to teach you to aim."

In or Out.

I'm sitting with my face tucked near the mirror plucking the stray chin hairs that just never seem to go away. Orion who is usually comfortably asleep beneath the sink, is up prowling around the bathroom. I pause from my deep concentration on microscopic hairs to look at him.
"What's going on?"
He ignores me and continues to move about, hops in the empty tub, hops out. I return to my chin hairs.
I can't have removed my eyes for more than a second before the trash can teeters in my pereherial vision, tumbling from the window sill where it has been propped since Orion came to live with me. I jerk back from the mirror making a lunge for it, connecting with a flying labrador, who is frantically leaping out of the open toilet, flinging toilet water from his toes in the air. I catch the trash can, but don't have the speed or hands to catch the dog shampoo bottle, or toilet paper that crash to the floor. Orion, feet free, makes a dive for the new play objects.
"NO!" I shout, tossing the trash back up on the window sill, dropping the lid to the toilet and chasing after his soaked self. I recover the toilet paper, that is warping with the exposed-to-toilet-water edges, and debate just depositing it in the garbage.
I am broke.
Can't let a roll of toilet paper go to waste.
I put it back up on the shelf and flick the light switch on my way out. Chin hairs can wait. I cross my fingers on the fan to air out the rest of the place.

Saturday, June 25, 2011

Night time

I'm lying in bed. I've been here for ten minutes. I'm only lying here because I realized it was something I ought to do. I just finished sword fighting Orion with a paper towel tube, chased some cats with him in the night, and trained him, danced with him, scratched him and on and on.
"Oh," I say, recognizing the night is wearing on, "We should probably go to bed."
So in bed I am though Orion noteably is not ready for rest. He's still pulling at my sheets, perhaps to make him a spot?
"Okay Orion, thank you."
He bounds off the bed. Moments later I hear a crash out in the front hall. BAM! I feel him leap on my back. I tense momentarily, having a knee that is bruised and beat up from a practice "sprint" that ended in me on the pavement when a small yellow friend cut in front of me.
"What do you have?" I ask, propping myself up in the dark and making a quick grab for his collar.
"Orion, where do you find these???" I say pulling yet another hair clip from his mouth.
Disappointed, he leaps down from the bed and starts chewing on my laundry basket.
He pauses.
"Keep it down!"
He goes right on chewing. I debate.
How much do I really care if my laundry basket gets chewed on? Should I not encourage this? Could I plead ignorance and pretend I was asleep? The gnawing continues. Already I was aware one handle was broken from a drunk friend doing a handstand and falling on it. I could just tape up whatever he's destroying. I did just buy a new roll of packaging tape.
I get up, pick up the laundry basket, shaking the yellow dog out of it, and place it on the other side of the baby gate.
"Could you find something less noisy to destroy?"
I crawl back into bed.
I hear him attack the broom. Before I know it I have broom bristles poking me in the head.
I laugh.
"Okay, the broom is fine."
He lugs it up on the bed. I go to sleep with it teeter tottering on my back.

Monday, June 20, 2011



I pour the remaining knock off Cinamon Toast Crunch in a bowl. Orion's eating his food and pauses to check out it the buffet is better at the counter, rather than in his bowl.
"Dream on Orion, this is the last of my cereal and I haven't had coffee yet."
I put the cereal on the table and turn to fill my coffee mug. I reach for the cream and am disappointed to find it on the last cup too. Sighing, thinking about having to afford grocheries, I suddenly am distracted by a shoveling sound.
"ORION!!! NOOOO!" I shout, as my dog has his front paws up on the table and is hoovering down my cereal. I ditch the coffee fixings and snatch the bowl, knocking him down on the way.
"Errr!" I dump the remaining cereal in the garbage. My mom's voice echoes in my head, "Dogs aren't bad dogs, they're just opportunists when they snatch your food." I flip open the cabinets, searching for a muffin mix for breakfast and quickly throw together some cornmeal muffins.
At the table, I sit sipping my coffee, watching the time so the muffins won't burn. I'm casually tossing the ball to Orion. As the time approaches for the muffins I get up, walking over, giving him a nudge away from the oven. "Hot."
I pull out the muffins, and hear, "SLURP!"
I turn.
He is licking up my coffee.
I cart him off to his crate.
I sit. I look at the coffee left in the bottom of the cup.
Screw it.
I tip it back and take a swig.
And another.
And another.
Then I let him out of his crate.
"Orion. Please try harder next time to not eat my breakfast. And really, if you just can't help that, just don't drink my coffee."

Morning motivation

"So what? You're telling me you want me up?" I say as I feel breathing in my ear. I roll over. A wet nose buries into my neck. I feel teeth seeking skin.
"You hit that artery and no one is going to know. We'll both be done. No food for you."
I push his persistent head away, even with blurry eyes I can't help but smile at his adorable face.
"What ungodly hour is it this time?" I dig for my cell phone, pulling on the cord like a fishing line till the trusted clock lights up the room with six am flashing across the LCD.
"Reasonable. Couldn't wait for that six-thirty though huh?" He starts nibbling my arm. "Orion, those ones are beginning to hurt. Come on. Let's get up."
I push him off me and toss my legs over the edge of the bed, reaching simultaneously for my glasses that hang looped onto the lamp that hovers unplugged by my bed.
I notice I have my excercise pants on--having fallen asleep in them, and momentarily feel motivated.
"You want to go for a run Orion?" I go digging for my sneakers, find a sports bra, pull the matching work out shirt over my head and off we go.
"Ready?" I ask, standing at the foot of the stairs. Orion starts to bounce. Ready to him means we're going to sprint. "Okay!" We take off. I try to adjust to a jog. Any "Waits"/"Sits" by street crossings get tossed out the window and we're trucking across streets, dodging birds, flying through the neighborhood. One block in, it occurs to me I am nuts, but there's Orion, ears tucked back, trotting along, turning to jump flaying wildly to get the leash in his mouth before returning to a trot and I chuckle, one foot in front of the other.

Friday, June 17, 2011

Neighbor #2

"Boy she's pretty rowdy in there," I look up as I'm juggling my purse, sweatshirt and bags. My neighbor stands smoking his cigerrette, tatoos showing on his bare chest, jeans clinging to his hips. Does he ever where a shirt, I wonder. "He's a boy and he wants to get out of the car," I say, opening the door so Orion's vocals can now extend to the neighborhood.
"Aw, Coco's a girl so I call them all girls."
"Okay," I say, continuing on the process of now gathering up my 45 pound dog so he can get to the ground, all the while trying to unhook his seatbelt contraption.
"What's his name again?"
Orion is on the ground, happily shaking off, bags are scooped back up, I circle around the car. "Orion."
"Like the nebula?"
My face brightens. "Yeah, you're the first one that's gotten it right!"
Orion and I start walking up the mini hill to our side of the apartment building.
"Hey, can I show you something?" the guy asks.
I pause.
"Well because you like art, I have some art I'd like you to see," he continues.
"Well I have Orion."
"He can come just let me get Coco put away first."
So I begin trailing him to his apartment.
Inside I am instantly surprised by the number of things that pack the small space. Perhaps because I am broke and do not have lots of furniture my space seems starkly vacant in comparison.
"See my space paintings? They're all done in spray paint. You should see these guys do them. Takes em' about 5 minutes each and you can get them for $15 bucks for one or 2 for $25 at the Covington Art Festival."
"Hum.. no kidding," I say, as I glance around at the 8 different paintings of Jupitar, gallaxies ect. ect.
"And who made that one?" I ask pointing to a landscape oil.
"Oh that was my mom."
"And the other two?"
"My brothers." He turns to the back wall where there's a giant four foot by three foot blue painting. "Do you know what this one is?"
I look and I have a distinct idea but choose not to say so.
"No, what is it?"
"Just imagine lying on a bed, staring up at a woman's pussy. See the legs here...."
Internally, I shake my head.
"My brother was a bit of a pervert."
"I see." I'm quiet. "Well thanks for sharing." Orion and I work our way home.

Friday, June 10, 2011


"Hi friend," I say, opening the door, tossing the keys to the futon. Orion is lying down in his crate. The fan rotates around tossing cool air to all parts of his house.
"How are you doing buddy?" I bend down and open the crate door. He looks so adorable just lying there that I'm half tempted to crawl in.
Instead I give him a big hug. A guy at work today was showing me pictures of his thirteen year old yellow lab that he had to put down three days ago. "Are you prepared to put your dog down?"
"Orion, how about you just grow real nice and old with me? Don't age too quickly. Just be around with me okay?"
Orion rolls to his back.
I kiss his tummy.
I rub his velvet ears.
He coughs.
Something hits my leg.
"Okay Orion, that one, that was a little gross I have to admit," I say as I pick up a half bloody baby tooth. I start to laugh. Just two days ago, I was crawling on the floor looking for a baby tooth. Orion at my side, we combed the floor. My sister, via video chat says, "This is really gross. I just don't think there's any way around it not being gross." "It's for my medicine bag! It's not gross!" "Yeah whatever Moll."
I pat his head. I hold the molar delicately in my hand. I will put it with his tiny canine that I did end up finding on the floor. My little baby dog.

Monday, June 6, 2011

East Fork Abbreviation

We went to East Fork yesterday and Orion had his first real opportunity to swim unihibited, and not limited to tiny deep puddles or streams but a giant lake. It was awesome. I was so tickled. He was a natural. I'd toss a stick and out he's swim and bring it back.
"Oh I just can't get over how cool this is!" I exclaimed to my friend Melanie who was teaching her short cattle dog to swim as well.
"He is a retriever Mol."
"I know but I've met a retriever that didn't swim and I really wanted him to be able to."
His little butt would sink here and there, and I'm out there up to my shoulders coaching him along. "Don't let your butt drop or you'll be an active drowner..." yeah for many of years lifeguarding. "Okay, swim to Momma!"
Yep. That's right. I said swim to Momma.
I'm such a sucker.
It was just the perfect day. Nice sun, warm enough water to comfortably dip/swim. Dogs were exhausted but happy and I just couldn't have asked for a prettier Sunday afternoon.