Dog Walker Wisdom
Lesson #2:
Apparently, Dog is the universal language.
Strangers always stop to tell me how cute Fizzy, the French Bull dog, is. They'll talk incessantly about how they've always wanted one, how they have one, or maybe they know someone who looks like one. In any case, there's no way I will NOT be stopped while out walking this adorable, pint size, drooling dog.
And today was no different. Except that this time, I was stopped by a sweet, elderly, Chinese man -- visibly excited about Fizzy's presence. He spoke no English and I speak no Chinese... and yet, we stood there, on Bowery and Spring, talking for roughly ten minutes. About what? No one knows. It mostly consisted of exaggerated facial expressions, guttural noises and pointing to the dog. Neither of us understood a single word the other person was saying, and yet, It may have been the best conversation I've had all day. Because, if nothing else... we tried.
Regardless of the language barrier and age gap, this man and I were able to find commonality in one thing: our adoration for this dog. And because of that… for those ten minutes, we understood each other.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Monday, November 20, 2006
Click-ity Clack
I've never been the popular girl. Scratch that, I was very popular in elementary school. I remember that the "sexiest" 6th grader asked me out three times. Each time, I said "no". He later shot someone. What I'm saying is, I was never part of a clique. Dont know why. I was always that slightly awkward girl who maybe hung out with the crowd once in a while, but was never invited to join.
Middle school and high school helped to solidify my concern. I was an outsider. Not that creepy guy who doesnt shower and smokes cigarettes behind the school. Dont get me wrong, I didnt shower... but I wasn't creepy; Just not cool enough to be part of "the" club. College life faired a bit better. There weren't so many cliques and I was able to find my place among individual friends. But I was eager to get out into the "real" world, where I assumed these selective groups magically disappeared, and I would suddenly be realized as very attractive.
And, since graduation, things seemed to be on the upswing. I've grown a few inches, started washing regularly, and have become more confident in myself. I've had numerous jobs in advertising, have been offered positions at almost every major agency in New York, and quit it all to own a dog walking company. You could say I've become a spitfire. But apparently, to one small group of snotty individuals inside the Tompkins Square dog park, Im still the pimply, awkward, smelly girl from Minneapolis. Yeah, thats right... the dog park has a clique. And it's a zinger.
The group consists of roughly 10 people, who, when standing inside the park fences, follow the credence that no one else matters. Regardless of the park's public access, they still give you the "who invited you?" look when you walk in. It's sort of how I imagined a modern day Dynasty...on crack, with dogs. And no, they are not overly attractive, or funny or special (to the untrained eye). They've just got an invite-only group that makes all others feel slightly less than. They are too cool for school, and they're ruining the harmonious "watch-Billy-humpathon" Ive been enjoying for the past few weeks.
But not any longer. I've realized that I don't really want to be a part of that clique... or any clique, for that matter. There's no need for exclusivity. And those who implement it, are saying something about themselves and their priorities. I'm perfectly happy sitting by myself, enjoying the dogs, fresh air and overall great outdoors. And hey, if someone comes over and wants to chat...Im all ears. But don't expect me to show up the next day donning matching t-shirts and ignoring anyone who doesn't adhere to our idea of social standards. That's way too involved. I'd much rather just relax.
Middle school and high school helped to solidify my concern. I was an outsider. Not that creepy guy who doesnt shower and smokes cigarettes behind the school. Dont get me wrong, I didnt shower... but I wasn't creepy; Just not cool enough to be part of "the" club. College life faired a bit better. There weren't so many cliques and I was able to find my place among individual friends. But I was eager to get out into the "real" world, where I assumed these selective groups magically disappeared, and I would suddenly be realized as very attractive.
And, since graduation, things seemed to be on the upswing. I've grown a few inches, started washing regularly, and have become more confident in myself. I've had numerous jobs in advertising, have been offered positions at almost every major agency in New York, and quit it all to own a dog walking company. You could say I've become a spitfire. But apparently, to one small group of snotty individuals inside the Tompkins Square dog park, Im still the pimply, awkward, smelly girl from Minneapolis. Yeah, thats right... the dog park has a clique. And it's a zinger.
The group consists of roughly 10 people, who, when standing inside the park fences, follow the credence that no one else matters. Regardless of the park's public access, they still give you the "who invited you?" look when you walk in. It's sort of how I imagined a modern day Dynasty...on crack, with dogs. And no, they are not overly attractive, or funny or special (to the untrained eye). They've just got an invite-only group that makes all others feel slightly less than. They are too cool for school, and they're ruining the harmonious "watch-Billy-humpathon" Ive been enjoying for the past few weeks.
But not any longer. I've realized that I don't really want to be a part of that clique... or any clique, for that matter. There's no need for exclusivity. And those who implement it, are saying something about themselves and their priorities. I'm perfectly happy sitting by myself, enjoying the dogs, fresh air and overall great outdoors. And hey, if someone comes over and wants to chat...Im all ears. But don't expect me to show up the next day donning matching t-shirts and ignoring anyone who doesn't adhere to our idea of social standards. That's way too involved. I'd much rather just relax.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Game Gear
Im discovering more and more red flags that I need to be aware of during my daily dog walks. Things you wouldn't normally think of -- like the leftover rack of lamb Billy dove for under a fence yesterday. I now spend all my time scanning the ground and surrounding areas for anything that would interfere with a nice casual walk. Seriously. My job is more like a video game.
Each day, I find myself battling out the forces of nature (rain, freezing cold or wind) while keeping an eye on possible predators or obstacles that I may encounter on my path. These predators can come in the form of a cat hiding in a doorway, a pile of dogdoo or maybe a piece of chicken lying in the street. It's also crucial that I keep track of my special tools (ie. supplies, such as dog bags, treats and keys), and my personal well-being (energy, stamina and food levels). And, if I pretend Im provided with points for each of the obstacles I successfully overcome, it helps me to get through each walk.
For example...
Thursday afternoon, while walking Psycho and Spaz, I hid behind a tree as a pitbull mix approached (2 points). It was a bit rainy out, so I held an umbrella in one hand and the two psycho maniacs in another (equivalent to level 3 difficulty) and I had only one power bar for breakfast (energy level at 4 out of 10). I was able to keep Psycho from jumping on a child in a stroller (bonus adrenaline points -- to be used later). Cat came out of nowhere and both dogs started barking to high hell (-2 points). Didn't see the pile of dogdoo before Spaz decided to roll in it (-5 points). However, I was able to efficiently clean her off in under 7 minutes (3 points). Plus, after cleverly spinning the story, the owner thought it was hysterically funny (3 points). And I was able to accomplish all this in the designated 30 minutes (7 points). Ok, so at the end of the walk, Ive got 6 dog bags left (which can be traded in for stamina), a full set of keys, and im only crying a little bit. not bad.
See...Its fun! And it keeps me going. Today, the elevator was broken in Fizzy's building. Most people would look at that as an 11th floor walk up, and a chance to call in sick. But, I just viewed it as level 5 difficulty with an opportunity to acquire 12 points. Now, this doesn't mean I didn't cry. I did. But then I chugged a power drink and slowly ascended the never-ending, psychotic number of stairs. It was horrible. And it didn't help that I had to do it twice (once to get him, and again to bring him home).
But, In my quest to be the best dog walker ever, I knew I couldn't back down. So, I went into game mode -- rescued Fizzy from his overreactive bladder and left feeling extremely satisfied and a bit proud.
Each day, I find myself battling out the forces of nature (rain, freezing cold or wind) while keeping an eye on possible predators or obstacles that I may encounter on my path. These predators can come in the form of a cat hiding in a doorway, a pile of dogdoo or maybe a piece of chicken lying in the street. It's also crucial that I keep track of my special tools (ie. supplies, such as dog bags, treats and keys), and my personal well-being (energy, stamina and food levels). And, if I pretend Im provided with points for each of the obstacles I successfully overcome, it helps me to get through each walk.
For example...
Thursday afternoon, while walking Psycho and Spaz, I hid behind a tree as a pitbull mix approached (2 points). It was a bit rainy out, so I held an umbrella in one hand and the two psycho maniacs in another (equivalent to level 3 difficulty) and I had only one power bar for breakfast (energy level at 4 out of 10). I was able to keep Psycho from jumping on a child in a stroller (bonus adrenaline points -- to be used later). Cat came out of nowhere and both dogs started barking to high hell (-2 points). Didn't see the pile of dogdoo before Spaz decided to roll in it (-5 points). However, I was able to efficiently clean her off in under 7 minutes (3 points). Plus, after cleverly spinning the story, the owner thought it was hysterically funny (3 points). And I was able to accomplish all this in the designated 30 minutes (7 points). Ok, so at the end of the walk, Ive got 6 dog bags left (which can be traded in for stamina), a full set of keys, and im only crying a little bit. not bad.
See...Its fun! And it keeps me going. Today, the elevator was broken in Fizzy's building. Most people would look at that as an 11th floor walk up, and a chance to call in sick. But, I just viewed it as level 5 difficulty with an opportunity to acquire 12 points. Now, this doesn't mean I didn't cry. I did. But then I chugged a power drink and slowly ascended the never-ending, psychotic number of stairs. It was horrible. And it didn't help that I had to do it twice (once to get him, and again to bring him home).
But, In my quest to be the best dog walker ever, I knew I couldn't back down. So, I went into game mode -- rescued Fizzy from his overreactive bladder and left feeling extremely satisfied and a bit proud.
Monday, November 13, 2006
The Look of Love
Clifford (the big, red, 90 lb dog) has become increasingly aggressive with his sexual advances. Im not saying that it isnt flattering. But it has also become potentially dangerous. Today, after our walk, I unlocked the building's front door only to be pushed up against the wall and awkwardly humped for what seemed like minutes. After finally getting the World's Largest Dog to calm down, i walked into the elevator and almost flew into the adjacent wall as Clifford once again attempted to "get to know" me.
Now, most dogs humping your leg is nothing more than a small nuisance. It might even be deemed as adorable. But, when the equivalent of Sasquatch tries to make love to you, it's a bit different.
Luckily, I've learned to look for the signs: There were a few times, when I was reaching out to pick up after him, and his paw gently grazed my hand. Then there will be the "look".... maybe your eyes will meet for just a second, before you both turn away. Soon, he will crack a sly grin, which can often be confused as hunger or #2. When his eyes seem to glaze over, you're still in the clear; Meaning, you are only at Stage One and there's still time to distract him with a squirrel or dog treat. But, when you feel the warm, slow-moving dog breath panting subtly on your lower back, you might as well just accept your fate.
This past weekend, I spoke to Clifford's owners about the awkward circumstance I seem to find myself in every day after our walk. They were extremely empathetic and kind enough to bring me downstairs and walk me outside. But I was uncomfortable with the look of pride they gave clifford as he, once again, humped me in the elevator on the way down.
Now, most dogs humping your leg is nothing more than a small nuisance. It might even be deemed as adorable. But, when the equivalent of Sasquatch tries to make love to you, it's a bit different.
Luckily, I've learned to look for the signs: There were a few times, when I was reaching out to pick up after him, and his paw gently grazed my hand. Then there will be the "look".... maybe your eyes will meet for just a second, before you both turn away. Soon, he will crack a sly grin, which can often be confused as hunger or #2. When his eyes seem to glaze over, you're still in the clear; Meaning, you are only at Stage One and there's still time to distract him with a squirrel or dog treat. But, when you feel the warm, slow-moving dog breath panting subtly on your lower back, you might as well just accept your fate.
This past weekend, I spoke to Clifford's owners about the awkward circumstance I seem to find myself in every day after our walk. They were extremely empathetic and kind enough to bring me downstairs and walk me outside. But I was uncomfortable with the look of pride they gave clifford as he, once again, humped me in the elevator on the way down.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Dog Walker Wisdom
Im learning new life lessons everyday... most occur when Im walking dogs. And Ive decided it's time to chronicle all these little bits of wisdom along the way. Who knows? Someone might find it to be helpful. So, here is the first installment of "Dog Walker Wisdom":
Lesson #1:
Random people wont bug you if you're singing to yourself.
Lately, I've become exceedingly frustrated, as my daily dog walks are accompanied by the constant "trailer park comments" from disgusting and horny passerbys. You know what I'm talking about, things like: "I like how you pick that up", "you and your dog look very healthy", and the all too popular, "daddy needs a walk too". Ill do my best to ignore them -- pull my hood over my head, stare right through em', or give them the look of death. But nothing seems to work. And the constant verbal garbage has made me really dread walking each day.
So, today, I started singing to myself. And it worked brilliantly. Not only does it help to keep the pace, but it also makes you look crazy. And crazy people don't get hit on as much. Today, I sang Stevie Wonder's "You are the sunshine of my life".. which initially had mixed results. However, I found if you add "bitch" after each sentence, it lessens the "sing-along" feel and gives you some edge.
Jackson Five's "Ill Be There" is on deck for tomorrow.
Lesson #1:
Random people wont bug you if you're singing to yourself.
Lately, I've become exceedingly frustrated, as my daily dog walks are accompanied by the constant "trailer park comments" from disgusting and horny passerbys. You know what I'm talking about, things like: "I like how you pick that up", "you and your dog look very healthy", and the all too popular, "daddy needs a walk too". Ill do my best to ignore them -- pull my hood over my head, stare right through em', or give them the look of death. But nothing seems to work. And the constant verbal garbage has made me really dread walking each day.
So, today, I started singing to myself. And it worked brilliantly. Not only does it help to keep the pace, but it also makes you look crazy. And crazy people don't get hit on as much. Today, I sang Stevie Wonder's "You are the sunshine of my life".. which initially had mixed results. However, I found if you add "bitch" after each sentence, it lessens the "sing-along" feel and gives you some edge.
Jackson Five's "Ill Be There" is on deck for tomorrow.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
The Duel
I always count down to the last walk of the day with complete and utter dread. Because at 3pm, each afternoon, I walk two adorable, pint-sized toy poodles...who are complete and utter terrors.
The younger one, we'll call him "Spaz", is a nut. He is the size of a fat squirrel and has the vocal capacity of a hyena in heat. I was warned that he "doesnt like homeless people", which actually turned out to be incorrect -- He just doesnt like people. He'll jump up the legs of any and all innocent passerbys. And if someone walks up cooing at how "cute he is", he'll bark to high hell. The irony of which I can only enjoy for about 2 seconds, before he attacks.
The old, larger pup, who we'll call "Psycho", is a lot less severe...although he runs after squirrels and came with the warning that he "hates people in uniform". Awesome.
But, being the over-achiever that I am (kidding...im actually watching E! News as I type this), I figured I could take em'. And with each of the owners' protective warnings, I responded with a, "hey, it'll be a piece of cake". And I was right. It's a piece of dirt-filled, squirrel-chasing, foam-at-the-mouth-barking, chocolate cake. In summation, it sucks.
And nothing sucks more, than when Im walking Psycho and Spaz... and we see another dog coming towards us. My hands start sweating like mad, I can feel my heart pounding out of my chest and my stomach feels like its going to explode. Because, these two little homicidal pischers never go more crazy, then when they see another dog.
Each day, during our walk, I start slowing down when I near a corner. Just like MacGyver, I inch up against the wall (or bush), before very carefully sliding my body (head first) around the corner to see if another dog is approaching. If there is no dog, then the walk continues as normal. However, in the unfortunate circumstance that I do happen to spot another pooch, I run like mad in the other direction....pulling the two startled maniacs behind me.
And this has worked fine up until today. I guess most people appreciate that Im pulling the two viciously barking dogs away from them. However, today was different. Today, I was challenged to a duel.
I guess I could call it a "bark off". I was walking down a relatively quiet stretch of the park, when I noticed a cocky man, with two large golden retrievers in tow. I was desperately hoping he would turn the corner, as most people would do when they see us... but instead he started walking towards me! Clearly dissapointed with the stranger's lack of common sense, I rolled my eyes and started pulling Psycho and Spaz around to face the other direction; thereby allowing myself out of a lose-lose situation. But the man wouldnt let up.
"What, your dogs dont like other dogs?" he taunted.
"no."
"Awww, come on, it cant be that bad." And with that, he let one of his dogs OFF THE LEASH to run towards me.
I was being challenged. Im sorry, WE were being challenged. And WE weren't about to lose.
I began to fill with rage and an evil smirk grew across my face as I slowly turned to face the man.. He didn't know what he was in for. We were gonna have a bark off and g-damnit, we were gonna win.
The golden retriever bounded towards us, and with that, Psycho and Spaz were suspended in mid air...only being chained to Earth by my kung-fu grip on their leashes. The golden stopped mid trot, let out a soft whimper and waited for his horrified owner to run up, grab him and together, retreat backwards...Very slowly.
I watched the losers with the look of "what now bitches?" as they rounded the corner and out of sight. I then turned to my two prized jewels, and with a look of motherly love, bent down to show them my appreciation. At the same time, Spaz jumped up and gave me a nose bleed, and Psycho started pulling on my pant leg, ripping it up the seam to my knees.
The younger one, we'll call him "Spaz", is a nut. He is the size of a fat squirrel and has the vocal capacity of a hyena in heat. I was warned that he "doesnt like homeless people", which actually turned out to be incorrect -- He just doesnt like people. He'll jump up the legs of any and all innocent passerbys. And if someone walks up cooing at how "cute he is", he'll bark to high hell. The irony of which I can only enjoy for about 2 seconds, before he attacks.
The old, larger pup, who we'll call "Psycho", is a lot less severe...although he runs after squirrels and came with the warning that he "hates people in uniform". Awesome.
But, being the over-achiever that I am (kidding...im actually watching E! News as I type this), I figured I could take em'. And with each of the owners' protective warnings, I responded with a, "hey, it'll be a piece of cake". And I was right. It's a piece of dirt-filled, squirrel-chasing, foam-at-the-mouth-barking, chocolate cake. In summation, it sucks.
And nothing sucks more, than when Im walking Psycho and Spaz... and we see another dog coming towards us. My hands start sweating like mad, I can feel my heart pounding out of my chest and my stomach feels like its going to explode. Because, these two little homicidal pischers never go more crazy, then when they see another dog.
Each day, during our walk, I start slowing down when I near a corner. Just like MacGyver, I inch up against the wall (or bush), before very carefully sliding my body (head first) around the corner to see if another dog is approaching. If there is no dog, then the walk continues as normal. However, in the unfortunate circumstance that I do happen to spot another pooch, I run like mad in the other direction....pulling the two startled maniacs behind me.
And this has worked fine up until today. I guess most people appreciate that Im pulling the two viciously barking dogs away from them. However, today was different. Today, I was challenged to a duel.
I guess I could call it a "bark off". I was walking down a relatively quiet stretch of the park, when I noticed a cocky man, with two large golden retrievers in tow. I was desperately hoping he would turn the corner, as most people would do when they see us... but instead he started walking towards me! Clearly dissapointed with the stranger's lack of common sense, I rolled my eyes and started pulling Psycho and Spaz around to face the other direction; thereby allowing myself out of a lose-lose situation. But the man wouldnt let up.
"What, your dogs dont like other dogs?" he taunted.
"no."
"Awww, come on, it cant be that bad." And with that, he let one of his dogs OFF THE LEASH to run towards me.
I was being challenged. Im sorry, WE were being challenged. And WE weren't about to lose.
I began to fill with rage and an evil smirk grew across my face as I slowly turned to face the man.. He didn't know what he was in for. We were gonna have a bark off and g-damnit, we were gonna win.
The golden retriever bounded towards us, and with that, Psycho and Spaz were suspended in mid air...only being chained to Earth by my kung-fu grip on their leashes. The golden stopped mid trot, let out a soft whimper and waited for his horrified owner to run up, grab him and together, retreat backwards...Very slowly.
I watched the losers with the look of "what now bitches?" as they rounded the corner and out of sight. I then turned to my two prized jewels, and with a look of motherly love, bent down to show them my appreciation. At the same time, Spaz jumped up and gave me a nose bleed, and Psycho started pulling on my pant leg, ripping it up the seam to my knees.
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