I Lose.

I know, I know. I've been a sucky blogger lately. But seriously, y'all. Life kind of kicked my ass this week. I spent the whole week frantically doing all the work that I hadn't done all over the weekend because The Mother came and brought up The Puppy and we ran in The Half-Marathon and by Sunday evening when I should have started my work for the week, I discovered that I couldn't because I simply had no. more. energy. And then The Puppy took over our lives and it was all puppy all day every day, which was fun and cute and exciting and also exhausting because she's, at the moment, running around like a baby without a diaper. Except that she's about one bajillion times easier than a baby because when we leave the apartment we can just put her into the crate. And I'm almost positive you can't do that with a baby.

However, in spite of the puppy, we both survived the week. My Greek presentation is OVER (three cheers), I found out that, under intense pressure, I can translate seven hundred lines of Greek in twenty-four hours, Ness (who's kind of a rockstar at sitting, I'm not going to lie) and Callie are both still alive, and Preston and I are still sane. We even COOKED DINNER together last night. And ATE AT THE DINING ROOM TABLE. Look what adults we are.

UPDATE: it's five hours later. I never finished this post this morning. And this morning, I had just had my coffee and the pups had been delightful and it was all sunshine and lollipops. And now, it's 1:40. The sunshine and lollipops have evaporated and I'm just cranky. I still haven't run, showered, or gone to the library. There are still papers on my desk that need to be dealt with. The remnants of a stuffed quail still litter our dining room. And I just spent OVER AN HOUR outside with the dogs trying to get Ness to poop. I spent the first forty minutes being the master puppeteer of the marionette show that is walking both dogs at once, then brought the dogs in when it started to drizzle, then encouraged and petted and loved Ness while she finished her breakfast in her crate, and then brought her back outside alone for half an hour in which I unsuccessfully tried to WILL her to poop. And I KNOW she had to go. Her backside was making it very clear that there was a lot of poop. That needed to come out. And she just. wouldn't. go.

So on this very gray drizzly (yet still hot and humid-gross) Saturday afternoon, as I paced up and down our street with the dog who would rather carry around a stick, her leash, my foot, or a mouthful of acorns rather than relieve herself, I was so frustrated and tired that I started to get angry at her. Why wasn't she communicating with me? Why wasn't she listening to me? WHY WON'T SHE UNDERSTAND ME when I tell her to poop? For the love of God, POOP. And then I remembered OH YEAH it's because she's A DOG. And then I started to laugh. And cry. All at once. The situation was just so ridiculous. I was walking past all her favorite poop spots talking in my high, perky YOU ARE SUCH A GOOD DOG! voice while she refused to let her poop come out.

And then occasionally it would begin to look as if the moment were here. She was GOING TO GO! And then something would distract her, like a runner (damn you fit people), a large truck, or the air. And all of my efforts to convince her that right here right now was a lovely-nay, THE BEST-time to poop would be thwarted. So I carried her back upstairs and put her back in the crate, where she's lying there blissfully, more passed out than the most sedated of dental patients.

I knew when I signed up for LIFE WITH A PUPPY that it would be hard work. I knew that acclimating Ness to our world (and us to hers) would be tough and that there would be times when I wanted to do nothing but settle in for a long winter's nap and wake up when she was a fully functioning house-trained dog. Maybe with magic powers. I knew all of that. But it doesn't make going through it any easier.

The puppy book I'm reading keeps telling me PATIENCE HAVE PATIENCE ALL YOU NEED IS PATIENCE and I am trying-man, am I trying-to be patient. I just can't help but vent every once in a while. So thanks for letting me, internet.