pressure cooker

"I'm having a hard day with Luther."

"I can hear that. So can the rest of the neighborhood."

It's sad to think that perhaps the main reason I might appear nice is that there is nothing stressing me; nothing that is upsetting me. Put a large deerhound on top of our glass-topped porch dining table and that all evaporates. "OFF!!!!!!!"

In fact: expletive deletive ensued.

Follow that with several bashings of the screen by the same said deerhound - as I was momentarily outside and he, inside - and several more choice phrases (ok, the same one) erupted and "NO!!!!!!!"

Then have the dear deerhound commence attack runs and pogo-leapings, thinking we were starting a very fun new game, and I found myself furious, and not caring very much who else knew.

&**^)* &*()_#$
"NO BITING!!!!!"

I see how important it is that he be trained early and properly. . . . and I fear I'm already falling behind. For today, I had already learned that it is not enough that he know how to walk nicely on a lead when it's just me, he also needs practice walking on a lead when there is someone else with me.

[ooooh! fun!! play!!! leap!!!! twirl!!!!! pull. on. lead!!!!!!]

Then I learned that Luther is not worried about prosaic things like: Will this glass table top hold me if I leap up onto it? The quarry was apparently my coffee cup [blech!!] and our two red plaid napkins from the night before.

[yum!! smells like himself and herself. And white pizza. My favorite! I will CHEW THE NAPKINS. YUM!!!]

Luckily, I had not yet brought out my laptop.

Ah yes. Things are all fine and good when everything is good and fine. Add a 40 pound puppy and his highjinks and we'll talk.

sigh.

I feel pretty ashamed of myself at this point. And the whole neighborhood knows my shortcomings.