Don’t Drink and Diet

Really. Don’t. Because after a week of diet shakes and miniscule dinners, one (admittedly strong) rum and Coke will make you feel like you did a dozen shots and danced until the wee hours. But I needed something to soothe my nerves after Rowen ran off again.

Up until about a week ago, her behavior was getting steadily better, to the point that I would let her off her leash to go potty because I knew that she would stay in the grassy area and would come when I called her. But then, last week, as I took her leash off, she spotted someone walking across the parking lot. And before I could react, Rowen was running across the parking lot, around a building, and under a fence. By the time I got to her, she was doing her second lap around the golf course behind the apartment complex.

So that was the end of letting her off the leash anywhere but the dog park.

Now we’re in the new apartment and she’s being even more of a brat. And it doesn’t help that I have a neighbor who has two dogs who aren’t kept on a leash. And one of those dogs likes nothing more than to antagonize Rowen. With Rowen acting like she’s never had a day of training her in life, this is bad news.

Last night, I was trying to wrangle Rowen while balancing my purse, my keys, and a bag of liquor that I had presciently stopped to buy when the neighbor let out her two dogs. And they made a beeline for Rowen. Who proceeded to become absolutely spastic, despite having just spent an hour swimming and playing chase at the park. In retrospect, there are a lot of things I could have done differently: put Rowen back in the car until I had taken everything into the apartment, put the bag and purse back in the car until I got Rowen in the apartment, at least have put the bag down while unlocking my door so I wasn’t balancing quite so many things at one time. But I didn’t do any of those things. So while I was trying to hold onto Rowen’s leash and unlock the door and not drop a bottle of rum and a six-pack of Coke, the neighbor’s dog continued to bait Rowen and Rowen lunged and I lost my hold on the leash. And Rowen? She’s fast and agile. I’m pretty sure she’s part Greyhound or Whippet. When she gets the devil in her, you’d have a better chance at roping a wild horse than of catching her.

Rowen did a couple laps around the parking lot before shooting off into the lot next door and taking a tour of the grounds. Fortunately, she does still respond to genuine panic in my voice and eventually let me catch her. And I was big-time panicked because we’re on a busy street and across the street is a steep incline into a creek. And Rowen loves water more than anything. I’m very surprised that she didn’t bolt right to the creek.

Needless to say, at the end of this I was furious (at Rowen, at the other dog, and at my neighbor) and nerve wracked and definitely ready for a drink. I did manage to keep my temper in check while “politely” asking that my neighbor keep her dogs on a leash. Yes, I know they don’t run off. But they do antagonize my dog (and one of them repeatedly went into my apartment when I was moving in; I had the door propped open and even though the neighbor was right there and had to have heard me ordering her dog out, she did nothing to help remove him).

So after giving Rowen a couple of raps on the nose and ordering her to stay out of my sight, I made myself a very strong drink. Which was all it took to set the room spinning. And for me to wake up feeling wrecked this morning. It’s taking all my will not to curl up under my desk for a nice nap.