My dog is Gladys Kravitz

As I sit here in the darkend dining room the dog is sitting on his ottoman looking out the window playing Gladys Kravitz. The cat is perched on the kitchen table trying to coerce food from the fridge to his bowl - it never works. And my husband is watching Dancing With The Stars.

Got back from the park with Deeohji and I realized just how much I enjoy having a dog. We were down there playing fetch with a ball. Me throwing it, I know, imagine that, and him chasing it and running to the other side of the park with it instead of coming back to me.

I know he thinks I throw the ball like a girl, but it doesn't discourage me. I keep throwing the ball, and that's all he really cares about.

I discovered that I enjoy screwing with my dogs head - not in a bad way. On our way back to the house, which is just a few blocks, he was straggling and taking his time smelling everything between the sidewalk and the street like he was a bloodhound on the tracks of a serial murderer. As we got closer to the corner he started taking even longer and resisting when I would pull the chain, he was NOT ready to go home yet. As we approached the corner I sped up walking a bit, I shortened the leash a bit and prepared him to "cross the street." He sped up a bit, tugged on the leash a bit and as we got to the corner.....we made a sharp right turn and proceeded down the street, suddenly we weren't going home. So he slowed down a bit and thought he had a few more minutes.....that was until I walked down to a clearing in the street and crossed there....BURN doggy....BURN! Poor boy was so dejected.

Well, I wish I had done that....we ended up going ALL the way around the block.....damn dog.