So I’m moving in with Dan, which is pretty awesome. We found an amazing two bedroom condo near Main Station, 11th floor, huge balcony, fireplace, a bathtub I’m pretty sure I could drown in… am extremely pleased. The building is about 3 years old, and has pretty good amenities. A gym, steam room, sauna, and a private courtyard with a playground. What? I like playgrounds. I am occasionally a six yr old. Fuck you.

I’m really, really looking forward to living with Dan. Yeah, it’s fast, but who cares? Honestly, if this is going to crash and burn soon, I’d rather know now rather than dance around wondering if it’s going to work or not. I’m tired of the logistics of working around our different residences, although this may be because I always tend to move in fast.

So last night, I brought Justice over to Dan’s place to introduce her to her feline step-sister, Ben. Ben is a neurotic little gray fuzzball, and Justice is an anxiety ridden mess who responds to fear with aggression. Not the best combination, but Justice does also have a decent history of getting used to things pretty fast. She has also lived with a cat before, although I’m not sure if Liam is really a cat, and not a minor demon in disguise.

Either way, it’s been a few years, but Liam tormented the shit out of Justice and she learned fast to avoid him (not that he would avoid her — he’d hide under tables and ambush her as she walked by, and pin her in the bathroom where she’d just sit and cry.) On the upside, Ben is not quite the malicious presence that Liam is, and seems content to ignore Justice as long as Justice leaves her alone.

Justice is distressed by Ben’s existence, but actually handled it pretty well. I assume she remembers that kittys have claws, and it’s better to stay a few feet away from them. I’m not allowing staring, barking, or other exciteable behaviour, but she’s doing a great job of coping. She was perfectly happy to accept treats and go through some of her old rally commands with Ben only a few feet away, so … this might just work after all.

Don’t worry — they won’t be left alone together for a long time. Justice will be crated when they can’t be supervised, and there will always been escape routes for Ben when they’re together. But based on the first introduction, I am optimistic!

However, he’s still a pitbull, and still a foster, and part of the rules of a foster is that they don’t interact with strange dogs. And for good reason — any little incident, no matter who’s at fault, and Bran will at best have a super hard time finding a forever home. At worst, get euthanized. So, he’s allowed to play with dogs I know, or dogs who belong to people I know. I’ve never worried about him, he’s RIDICULOUSLY friendly. Hell, he gets along with Justice, and she IS a jerk about other dogs.

But, I know what dog aggression can be like, and I follow that rule pretty strictly.

So today, I was walking a friend of mine up the street. We get a few blocks from my place, and this sketchy woman smoking a joint has a little pomeranian on a flexi leash (one of those retractable 30 foot deals). She’s in her yard, so I’m not worried about it — Justice wasn’t with us. If she was, I think I’d have crossed the street. I don’t trust flexi’s.

But as we walk by, she gets up and walks over to us and asks if Bran is friendly. Well, he is, so I’m not going to lie (I would say “no”, but I’d rather be an “ambassador” for friendly pitties — they have a bad enough rap without more people thinking “Oh, there’s another aggressive pitbull.) Also, sketchy woman looked totally sketchy, and there’s no way I’m trusting her dog not to be a total dick, and Bran to accidentally squish him. He was about 9lbs soaking wet.

So I say “Sorry, he’s not allowed to interact with strange dogs” with a smile, and pause so she can call her dog back and we can pass by calmly. But she keeps coming, and she’s blocking the sidewalk, and her dog is running toward us. Bran, of course, wants to go say hello, so he’s pulling at the leash while I try to get his attention back on me — something he’s getting quite good at, unless there’s a perky little pom bouncing 4 feet away from him trying to say hello.

The woman makes no effort to pull her dog back, and he’s clearly got more slack on the retractable leash he can pull, and he’s still coming closer. At this point, I’ve put myself between the dogs, and am working my ass off to get Bran’s attention… and to tell this idiot woman to call her dog back.

And she’s all “Why? Why?”

REALLY?

I say again, “He’s a foster. He’s not allowed. Please call your dog back.” And she’s STILL NOT PULLING HIM BACK.

So I start pulling Bran back, putting me between them, and then start in on her a bit. “I’ve said no. He’s not allowed. That’s enough. Call your dog back, please!” And she’s STILL blocking the sidewalk.

Eventually, I tell my friend to just go on — I was only going another block anyway — but jesus fuck. What is WRONG with people? I appreciate her asking, but what the hell. Accept my response, y’know? If that had been Justice, she’d have lost her shit with a dog charging down on her like that.

On the upside, Bran IS totally friendly, just kinda boneheaded. In fact, he reminds me rather strongly of this dog, minus the talking part.

But still. People just blow me away with their stupidity. Bonus points for asking if her dog could play with Bran. But MINUS ALL OF THOSE POINTS AND A LOT MORE FOR NOT TAKING “NO” FOR AN ANSWER. Gah.

So, fine. She’s gotten so used to hating the breadmaker that she starts barking as soon as I pull it out. That’s effing awesome, Justice. So she gets plied with treats and love and we find ways for her to cope with her fear. On the upside, having a dog who is generally fearful of almost everything means we have LOTS of coping mechanisms. Incidentally: no, you cannot reinforce fear, so this is not making the problem worse. It actually helps quite a lot. She’s currently laying on her bed still afraid, but able to handle it, and getting a treat every few minutes for being such a brave little trooper.

Anyway, so one of Justice’s coping mechanisms is to go through her routine of tricks. Sharp heels, sits, downs, zombies, places, and touches.

I do “touch” slightly differently than a lot of dog trainers, because … like I had any idea what I was doing when I first started training her. Anyway, touch for us is “Go touch this thing that I’m pointing at”. She’s ridiculously good at it, and it’s quite cute. We use this as a method for her to get comfortable with things that make her nervous — Things Where There Should Be No Things, for example. Her nail trimmers, for another. If she can touch it voluntarily, it’s less scary.

Sometimes, when anxious, Justice offers up touches on her own. It’s pretty cute. She’ll just start randomly pawing at things in an effort to get my attention, or to soothe herself.

I have a large Ikea corner desk in my apartment, and Justice has an oversized Costco dog bed shoved right up next to it. The outlet for my desk is right behind Justice’s bed, and plugged into it is a powerbar that stretches to sit behind my desk. Mostly. It pokes out a little, but it’s mostly hidden. Except for the end with the on/off switch on it.

Are you seeing where this is going?

So the bread machine was doing it’s thing, and we went through a few calming exercises to help her get herself together, and she was doing okay with it and so she went to sit on her bed. And started offering up touches. She touched my chair, touched my desk, and then went and touched the power bar.

And turned it off.

And my computer went dark.

I might have laughed myself silly.

I have also been taking Justice to Dizine Canine for a year, and LOVE Shelagh’s training so so so much. She’s done amazing things for Justice and helped us both so very, very much. Shelagh is also heavily involved in pit bull rescue with HugABull.

I love pit bulls. They’re so goofy and sweet and adorable and cute. And SO misunderstood.

I’ve been wanting a second dog for a while, but I wasn’t sure if a pit bull would be the right dog for me. I already have a leash reactive dog who makes people nervous… and so many people think pit bulls are nothing short of trained killers, can I really handle the stigma with TWO dogs that people will hate?

You know what? Yeah, I totally can. Granted, I have to be EXTREMELY picky about what dog I get as a companion for Justice. I cannot have two reactive dogs. For a second dog, I need one who will be mellow and calm while Justice has her panic attacks. Justice’s reactions are pretty rare now, but they do happen, and having 100lbs of dog (Justice being about 40lbs, pitties are usually around 60lbs) trying to pull me over would be bad.

But I’m used to the stigma. People think Justice is cute and adorable until she freaks out, and then they look at me like I’m the devil. I have since realized that people can Fuck Off. Without me, Justice would probably have been put down by now. Anyone who thinks I’m a horrible person because my dog occasionally loses her shit is not worth my time. And anyone who thinks I’m a horrible person because I have a sweet, loving pittie with me can piss off with them.

And… you know, this can carry over to pitties as well. It’s a different situation, because Justice LOOKS adorable & friendly until she flips out, whereas pitties “look” scary, but are generally sweet & friendly. But I think I’d be a good “Breed ambassador”, especially if it’s the cute and adorable one having a snit while the pittie sits by and watches calmly.

But, I’m VERY picky about what dog I keep. It MUST be a good fit for Justice. She comes first, and any dog that stresses her out more is no good. While she can be a bit ornery with some dogs, she does have dog friends whom she loves, and even puts up with Jasper’s rude antics with a modicum of grace (or at least “exasperated resignment”). Ok, so no dogs like Jasper…

And so I’m going to try fostering. I like to think of it as “try before you buy”. HugABull has excellent temperment testing for their pitties, and absolutely do not take dogs who show any human aggression. Furthermore, I have my own requirements such as: Very dog social. Adult (3-4+). Male. Preferably housebroken. No separation anxiety. Preferably some leash manners, but we can work on that — for the first little while, I won’t be walking them together anyway.

And I really love the idea of helping out HugABull. Taking care of a dog while we find them their forever home? I can’t think of much that would be more rewarding.

So I sent in my application last week, and did my phone screening as well. It wasn’t a terribly long conversation, I went into pretty good detail on my application… and because Shelagh knows me and knows Justice, well from what I was told, Shelagh saw my application and said, “Give her a dog. Give her one now.” Hee. I come with good references.

I have my home check tomorrow. I’m not worried. I’ve been very up front about the fact that I have a small place, and that shouldn’t be an issue. An ex-pen, a baby gate or two, and even my little apartment can be divided up without too much trouble. Justice, other than barking at people when they walk in the door, is generally charming and sweet as she jams her toys into peoples knees, because clearly everybody who visits is here to see and play with her.

And… I might have a dog by the end of the week. HugABull let me know that over the weekend, they were evaluating 4 dogs, 3 of them male. If one of them is a good fit for our needs… I might have me a foster!

I will take lots of pictures. It’s much easier to take pictures of dogs who are not black. I’m looking forward to it!

Justice is also very excited. You can tell.

So one of the things I’m happy about with her is that she has a VERY soft mouth. Since she has aggression problems, this is extremely important to me. She has no bite history, but unfortunately my aggressive dog is indeed aggressive, and I worry. It’s one of the reasons she wears a muzzle when we’re in my apartment building. The last thing I want is for her to get a “dangerous dog” classification and be required to wear a muzzle when we’re outside of my apartment all the time.

But! While she’s VERY well managed, and is not given the chance to get those nice sharp teeth near strangers, one other important thing is that if everything went to hell and she actually bit someone… I don’t want it to be a serious injury. I’ve heard of dogs who would never, ever, EVER bite… get a surprise injury, and the automatic defense reaction is to bite. Think service dogs who’ve had their tails slammed in a door accidentally biting their handler… to the bone. Not the dogs fault at all, but if they’d been taught how to pull their punches, maybe the bite wouldn’t be quite so serious? So I’ve worked on making sure Justice knows how to use her teeth softly. I play with her mouth all the time, and allow her to use her mouth when she plays back, as long as she’s gentle.

This whole diatribe is because of this: Justice has such a soft bite she doesn’t know how to squeak her squeaky toy.

For Christmas, I got her this weird tube-shaped mouse (don’t ask) that, when squeezed, squeaks quite nicely. She likes it just fine when I squeak it, but the only time she’s ever made it squeak herself is when she steps on it. She always looks puzzled, too. It’s pretty hilarious.

So there you have it. The dog who can’t squeak. Am amused.

So anyway, today has been an incredibly awesome day. For one, after Justice was really great with Jasper on Monday, and did pretty well in a reactive dog class I tagged along with on Tuesday… I chatted with my amazing, awesome, incredible dog trainer about bringing her in for doggie daycare. Shelagh has only seen Justice in on-leash classes, and Justice can occasionally be iffy with other dogs off leash too … but she’s GREAT with dogs who have some social problems (she’s also one of the directors of Hug-A-Bull, the local Pit Bull rescue, and you can imagine how many of those poor pups come in with Issues… I mean, at least Justice doesn’t have stereotypes working against her.)

So, since Thursdays are one of their slow days, we thought we’d try her out with only a few other dogs in.

Justice didn’t disappoint. I dropped her off around 8:30, and I knew that the longer I stayed, the more wiggy she’d be — I know my presence can definitely bring out the anxiety. I HOPE it’s just because she feels protective of me around other dogs…but it may also be my nervousness about her behaviour feeds her nervousness. Possibly both. Either way, she was a total mama’s girl, and kept trying to get to me (I was hanging out behind a fence.)

So, I took off, and left her in Shelagh’s extremely capable hands. With some slow introductions to the other dogs, through fences, and then later when she was more comfortable with the other dogs existence, on leash and muzzled… and she was a perfect lady. I’m told there was another dog who had some Rude Puppy Behaviour (or, as I think of it, Meatloaf) and Justice was perfectly appropriate with him, letting him know when he was being a doof, but not escalating any further than necessary — exactly the same as she behaved with Jasper on Monday.

So, SO pleased. You have no idea.

Sadly, doggy daycare is a bit expensive, so it’s not something I can afford to do all the time… but I’d love to send her 2-3 times a month at least. For one, being around other dogs more often should theoretically help her on leash reactivity issues. For another, exhausted puppy is exhausted. And exhausted dogs are happy dogs.

The above picture was taken (at a red light!) while we were driving home from daycare. She was so sleepy, she didn’t even bother finding a COMFORTABLE spot to nap, she stretched her head over the centre console in the backseat of the van. Better flopping, I think — the more comfortable spot requires a fairly curled up position.

Anyway, I’m so pleased. SO pleased. I love my dog so freaking much, and I want her to have the best life possible… one where she can hang out and have fun and PLAY with other dogs is definitely advantageous to cranky crotchety old lady when she’s only 4.

So, this news is ALMOST as good as the other news…

So, my job. I’ve worked at the same company since early 2003, save for a year and a half period in the middle where I worked elsewhere. I think in total it’s been over 5 years, which is far longer than I’ve worked anywhere else. Heck, the second stretch alone is longer than I’ve worked anywhere else.

And I love my coworkers. I really do. And not just because I used to date one of them. (hah.) I honestly work with some of the greatest people in the world, and that’s been the saving grace and inspiration for working there for the last few years.

Because… sadly, I haven’t enjoyed the job itself for a while now. The company has moved VERY far from where it was when I first started working there. And that’s not a bad thing, the industry has changed, and they’ve done what they had to do to keep up, stay profitable, and make it through a recession with flying colors. Unfortunately, how the company has had to change doesn’t fit with my specialties, or … well, anything that I have any interest in doing whatsoever. Unless I want to become a PHP programmer, there’s no place for me. And I have NO interest in being a PHP programmer. I’m a technically minded customer service geek… (who wants to be a nurse.)

So… I really haven’t been happy for a while, but the people are SO great that it’s been hard to think about leaving. Not to mention, it’s not super motivating to look for work when one already has a job, and REALLY not motivating when the job market is pretty rough. I mean really, at least I HAVE a job, right? How greedy do I have to be to want ANOTHER?

But… about a month ago, I finally sucked it up and got serious and started looking. I had a few interviews that didn’t pan out (one, I’m pretty sure I didn’t get because I was infinitely more qualified than the woman doing the hiring. I’ve got about 14 years of customer service experience, and two of those jobs have been management positions. She had 3… 1 of them in management. Er… no, really, I’m not after your job! I swear! Also, group interviews [3 people being interviewed by one person] are NOT fun. Great, I’m competing against OTHER PEOPLE IN MY INTERVIEW. Guh!) Anyway, so that was kind of a bummer, and really? Customer service is NOT a valued skill. There are LOTS of jobs advertised for customer service that pay … $12/h? Yeah, uh… I can’t afford to live on that in Vancouver. Call me elitist, but I need to make a living wage. At least coming from a position of gainful employment, I could afford to be picky, although a little dejected at the lack of options.

So, a couple of weeks ago, I tested for a customer service position with a large BC-based company that I am very familiar with. It’s one that, if you’re local, you’ve heard of (for privacy reasons, I won’t be mentioning where online — feel free to msg me privately if you’re interested.) I was mostly looking at larger companies, as they’re generally the only ones that can afford to pay expert customer service reps what we’re worth. Maybe I sound conceited, but I am damn good at what I do (undervalued or not), and I deserve decent compensation for that. Admittedly, I may have shot myself in the foot for specializing in customer service, but… well, there ARE people who still value excellent customer service. Thankfully.

Anyway, after testing with them a few weeks ago, I was offered an interview. Wednesday morning, I schlooped out to Surrey, and apparently did a good enough job because, as you might guess, I was offered the job today.

I am SO pleased.

I’m really going to miss my coworkers. But I’m really excited about starting a new chapter in my life, with a little more pay, and a little closer to what I’m really good at. I chatted with my boss for a bit this afternoon, gave my notice, and my last day will be September 28th — the day before my birthday, so I’ll have a nice long weekend (and a birthday party!) before I start my new job on October 4th (coincidentally, Nick’s birthday.)

So… wish me luck. Starting new jobs is scary. The last time I started a new job was… over 4 years ago, and that was a company I’d worked at before. The last REAL new job I had was almost 6 years ago. This is scary!

But: I am uber. I have an awesome dog who isn’t a complete social idiot, and I just landed a job that is REALLY perfect for me. This? This is a good Thursday.

So I responded to her post of pictures… with my little Corehound. This is what I posted:

I have no whelpling. I have a corehound.

Core hounds are the vicious but faithful servants of Ragnaros and his minions. The beast has the appearance of a massive bulldog with two heads, each equipped with a mouth filled with rows of flaming teeth. Its body is covered with armored hide and studded with bony spikes. A streak of flames runs down its spine from head to stubby tail. The oldest and most powerful of the core hounds is Magmadar, the alpha male and sire of the entire current pack.

Core hounds use simple tactics, attacking the most obviously threatening target first. They will typically attempt an improved grab or bull rush to push their target into nearby lava. A core hound with flaming breath takes hold of a victim before using its flaming breath, thus preventing the victim from escaping the effect. Core hounds grow and gain power throughout their lives.

Source

(Special thanks to Jasper, my parents golden retriever puppy — currently 9 months old and at about 90lbs, he’s turning into quite the corehound himself — for assisting in my corehound demonstration.)

But Nick has been a supremely awesome co-dog-parent with me for the last two years, and he deserves some props for that. There is no Puppy-Parent-Day, and so I’m co-opting Father’s Day a little.

As you can see, she clearly worships him.

And he’s pretty fond of her too.

Thanks, Nick. It means a lot to me how much you love our dog, even when she’s being an effing moron.

Jasper is now 7 months old, and 70lbs. He’s also starting to learn manners, but usually gives up and starts nomming on your ear, or hair, or foot, or whatever else he can find. I think he’s teething. Or possibly just an asshole. But holy crap, is he ever cute. And mischievous puppy is, of course, mischievous.

I was making a cup of tea, and had walked away for a minute to find some honey… and while my back was turned, he snagged the teabag out of the cup. Nice one, dog.

So, we all know this, I have a dog with a crazy amount of anxiety. This expresses itself in leash reactivity, mostly toward dogs, and taking “normal moments that are a bit anxiety-ridden” and turning them into huge scary productions.

Case in point: The vet. The vet is a scary place for ANY dog. It’s full of other scared dog smells, weird smells, strange people… you get poked and prodded by a stranger, things get stuck up your butt, you can often hear other dogs crying, whimpering, barking, they occasionally put needles in you…

Now take a dog who goes to pieces when there’s a piece of trash in the street where there SHOULD BE NO TRASH, MUM WHAT IS THAT THERE WAS NO TRASH THERE THIS MORNING WHY IS THAT THERE IS IT GOING TO EAT ME? …and you have a recipe for disaster.

I love my dog. And 90% of the time, she’s fantastic. She’s great indoors, albeit a bit of an alert-barker. She’s generally good off-leash with dogs her size or bigger (although lately a bit iffy with smaller dogs), FABULOUS with puppies, playful, energetic, funny, ridiculously smart, eager to please, lovable, cuddly, sweet… and honestly just an absolute joy to have around. I wouldn’t trade her for the world.

But oh god, the anxiety. Half the time I want to sell her to the gypsies, the other half I want to just sit down and cry because she’s so. freaking. scared. of. everything.

She makes incredible leaps & bounds all the time — her focus is improving, her rally classes are going great — heck, before the vet came into the office, we went through half a dozen of the more “difficult” rally commands, and she was perfect: attentive, focused, high energy, and grinning like a fool.

And then the vet came in. And jesus christ on toast. I’ve never seen her so scared. She was hiding behind the chair, ran away frightened every time the vet made eye contact (and Justice has a minor eye infection, so … y’know, looking at the eye? A good thing.) She was WAY more skittish, terrified, obstinate, and just plain anxious than I’ve seen her in a long time. Poor kid. The vet was great, trying not to startle her, using a low soothing voice, when she had to touch her, being super gentle and letting Justice come to her… yeah, no dice, dog was off the scale anxiety-wise. She’d come over to me every few minutes and sit for a treat, then go back to stress sniffing and hiding.

I go to Vancouver Animal Wellness, because I’m a LITTLE touchy feely with my preferred medical care for Justice. For example, we don’t vaccinate yearly, we get titre testing every 1-2 years instead. I don’t like to jump straight to pills as the first answer, and I’m not adverse to trying less invasive methods first. I really, really like Vancouver Animal Wellness for this — I feel like meds are a last resort, but one that we’ll take if it’s necessary.

When it comes down to it, if meds are what is needed, meds are what I’ll go for.

Even moreso than the stigma against humans using anti-depressants is pets on anti-depressants. What, your dog won’t stop barking long enough for you to get your latte? Drug ‘em to the gills, right?

Yeah, well. I’ve put a LOT of work into Justice. And anyone who’s known her for a few years tends to tell me how amazed they are at how far she’s come. Which is good, because often all I see are her issues. And I love her to pieces — I don’t see this as HER failing, I see this as MY failing. It’s my job to help her cope, right? And if she’s not coping… then this is on me.

Annoyingly it seems that most people agree, when I get the stinkeye for having the fearful/reactive dog. I hide behind the “She’s a rescue” label, but I still feel incredible guilt that with all the hard work I’ve put into her so far… it still hasn’t been enough. It can’t be enough, because if it was enough, she wouldn’t panic at the sight of other dogs. It may never be enough. I dunno. And I fully accept that… when you have a reactive dog, you ALWAYS have a reactive dog. I just want her to learn better coping skills and stop being so damn wigged out all the time.

Seriously, how much fun can it be that every time you go outside into the big bad world, you’re afraid of EVERYTHING? Good god, I have an agoraphobic dog. Well, not really — she can relax when she’s outside, she loves to roll in the grass, run around, sniff everything, chase balls & frisbees, and so on. But there are just so many little things that can get her to go from happy excited dog to “WHAT IN THE FUCKITY FUCK IS THAT?” … I don’t like seeing my dog like that!

So today we got a prescription for clomicalm. And of course, I feel terrible about it. There’s the sensible part of me that is reminding myself of how much anti-depressants helped me, and how I DO NOT JUDGE other people for going on anti-depressants, or even for putting their pets on meds. That’s a personal choice, and it’s none of my business. Are they over prescribed? Probably, but who cares? That’s not my call.

But this one IS my call, and … admittedly, I feel like I failed. It’s supreme stupidness, because I have a dog who is SO SCARED she makes herself (and everyone around her) miserable at times. What kind of selfish fuck would I be to refuse to give my sweet puppy something that has a VERY good chance of helping her (especially when combined with the training we’re already doing) NOT be so bloody scared all the time?

I love my dog with all my heart. I want to do what’s best for her. There’s no doubt in my mind that this is what’s best for her.

But it still kind of sucks.

And she just let out the most horrifying fart in the world, and I can’t stop laughing at her. THIS IS A SERIOUS MOMENT, DOG. YOUR BUTT TRUMPET IS NOT TAKING INTO ACCOUNT THE SEVERITY OF THE SITUATION.