Dog Days

I firmly believe people shouldn’t have pets unless they are willing to responsibly own them. For me, that includes feeding, housing, grooming, and nurturing them properly--walking them in the rain, resisting the urge to beat the sam hill out of them when they destroy stuff, even providing expensive medical care if necessary. Since pet owners are required to do these things, and they take great amounts of effort and exorbitant funds, I rarely have pets. But that doesn’t mean I haven’t been involved with other people’s pets. Not hardly. I seem to universally attract people who have a thing for animals, especially dogs. My brother Todd once smuggled a tiny puppy onto an airplane flight in a shoe box so he could take it home with him. My kids once bonded so completely with some stray-dog puppies born in my bedroom closet that I woke up with my bed full of children and bar-of-soap sized dogs tangled in a big, snoring pile. My grandparents had a miniature poodle (possibly the nastiest of all dog temperments) which looked adorable in hair bows, but was a vicious whirling dervish of teeth to anyone but my grandmother. And it is a running joke between my brothers and I that, if there are multiple lives, we want to come back in the next one as our mother’s dog--talk about a cushy gig. In Dav Pilkey’s Dogzilla, a giant Corgi terrorizes the mouse town with his stinky breath. Reason number two I don’t have pets.

http://www.amazon.com/Dogzilla-Dav-Pilkey/dp/0152239456

http://www.pilkey.com/

Puppy Love

Scarlett has only lived in an apartment. Her backyard is a tiny cement patio bordered with about five feet of scrubby grass. There’s no room, or even allowance, for most pets, especially dogs. Although both Nick and I had dogs growing up, since we aren’t planning on moving (or being able to afford moving) for quite some time, it seemed Scarlett would not experience all that comes with sharing space with man’s best friend. And then, when Scarlett was a year old, her Grandpa Dan brought home a little blonde bit of scruff and needle-sharp puppy teeth named Abbey. Scarlett was a baby who didn’t realize how hard you can squeeze a puppy. Abbey was a baby who didn’t realize how little force it takes to knock down a toddler. Somehow it worked. They have a very interesting relationship of antagonism and attachment that seems more sibling than owner and pet. Scarlett insists on putting Abbey on the leash and “walking” (which sometimes resembles dragging) her, even in the house. Abbey gets jealous of the attention Oba and Grandpa pay to Scarlett, and steals binkies every chance she gets. They are lucky enough to play and fight and grow together while we are lucky enough to watch. In Susan Hood’s The Furry Arms Hotel, Elmo and Baby Natasha play hide-and-seek with a little black puppy who may or may not be in any one of the many environmentally-diverse rooms. Only Natasha finds him, ‘cause babies are meant for each other.





http://www.jacketflap.com/persondetail.asp?person=148275

http://www.amazon.com/Sesame-Street-Susan-Hood/dp/B0006RW6YU

Too Little To Know Better...

I started this adventure with more enthusiasm than sense and more passion than experience. Don’t know how to change my ringtone, let alone create a blog? No problem! Not sure I’ll be able to find enough unique books worth reading? No worries! Haven’t considered the giant nature of a project this ambitious while still working fourteen hours a day? Pshaw! I’m a jump in kinda gal, and jump I did. Don’t get me wrong, I have really loved doing this so far and wouldn’t trade a minute of it, but there were a number of things I never realized would come up, chief among them: When and how often do I read the real gems? I don’t like the idea of getting my favorites in at the beginning and then being left with several months of second-stringers, so I’ve been trying to ration the classics while doing a bit of tooth-gnashing waiting for the cream of the crop. The thing I didn’t count on was that Scarlett doesn’t make such distinctions. She loves the reading experience--with a purity and abandon that I have sadly outgrown. Every book still has the potential for magic undiscovered. I am comfortable with casually flipping through some books just to check them off the list. Scarlett loves every cheesy page like it was from a Caldecott winner. Thus, fancifully, Playful Puppies published by Playmore/Waldman, with its “doogies” that say “bock, bock” (hey, she’s still new here), is every bit as engaging as the heavy hitters.





http://www.amazon.com/s?ie=UTF8h=i%3Astripbooks%2Cp_27%3APlaymore%20Waldman&field-author=Playmore%20Waldman&page=1