I have never seen Maude so frantic and upset as when I put that stupid plastic cone collar around her neck. She’s flailing and panting and freaking out. I hope it subsides.
MAKE HER STOP STARING AT ME.
Don’t ever put one of those little plastic roach baits on the bottom shelf of your bookcase behind some books where you think your dog can’t get to it. You will come home at 2 AM to find the books on the floor and the roach bait missing, and you will tear your apartment to shreds trying to find the roach bait while doing a lot of useless yelling at your dog. “What did you do? Where did you put it? Where is it?” She won’t answer you, but she’ll follow you around happily while you search and search and think about what it would be like if she dies of roach bait poisoning. Will she foam at the mouth? Will she convulse? Will it hurt her? Could you get her to the vet in time? How awful would your life be without her?
When you finally find the roach bait on the floor, intact minus a few little teeth marks around the plastic edges, try not to be too upset at your dog or at yourself. Everything is okay, and you both did what you thought was best at the time. Just make sure you put the other baits far, far, far out of her reach.
1. the thing about traveling alone is that nobody else knows what you’ve seen. i can’t say to anyone, “dude, remember when we went to the badlands?” because nobody was with me except maude, and she doesn’t usually respond to my questions. “dude, remember when you sat in the backseat of the car on my coat for three hours?” nothing.
2. my car’s been so good on this trip that i worry it’s deliberately lulling me into a false sense of security. then, when i’m on a small country road with no shoulder and no cell phone reception, BAM! flat tire. busted whatsit. since this occurred to me, i’ve become suspicious of my own car. in gas stations and motel parking lots, i stare at it with narrowed eyes.