agentotter: (one of those days)
Okay, so I'm not organized enough to actually have photos ready for posting, but there are a few updates in the world of Trudeau that you might be interested in.

* He sneaks up on my bed when he thinks I'm not looking. This is pretty obvious because he leaves behind drool-evidence (often on my pillow), and also because my bed is small and looks very different when it is full of dog. If I had, say, a California king where I had plenty of room for dog, I'd invite him to sleep with me, but on a twin-size there is little room for me, much less a beast of his size, thus the bed is supposed to be a dog-free zone. Trudeau disagrees with this policy.

* You know how people say that crying and diapers and things like that aren't as bad when it's your own kid you're dealing with? Apparently the same is true of drool and picking up poop and wet dog smell and dog hair all over everything. There is not a single thing about this dog that I don't adore. I didn't really have the money to spare to saddle myself with another expense, but I can't bring myself to regret it even for a moment.

* He had a tick. And so I Advantixed his ass. Because there are a lot of things I can happily deal with, but ticks are not one of them. I can only assume that he'll be prone to them, because his favorite thing in the whole wide world is to flop onto his back into the grass and wriggle around like there is no greater bliss on this earth. Which is why I have atom-bombed the ticks. F YOU TICKS. I HOPE YOU DIE IN A FIRE.

* I taught him to fetch, for realz. He used to like to chase balls and then sort of run around madly with them and probably put them somewhere out of the way before he came barreling back at me like a living cannonball, but now he brings me the ball so he can trade it for a treat. It's working brilliantly, especially since I've gone from constant to intermittent reward. He goes nuts trying to figure out just how perfectly he has to bring me the ball before I'll give him a snack. Plus, it's great exercise in the yard on those days when I'm too knackered or or it's too cold (OMG, IT'S SO COLD!) to take him for a proper long walk.

Speaking of long walks, everybody mocked me when I said that having a dog around would get me out of the house and exercising more. "That's exactly what I said," my friend told me, with a look that implied that things hadn't even remotely worked out that way with her three monsters. But I'm a rule-breaker. Not only am I getting more exercise -- in addition to one or two shorter walks each day, I try to take Trudeau on one long walk every night, about 4 miles round-trip, which probably isn't much but is quite enough when it's 15 degrees outside ;D -- but I'm also reading more books, on account of the audiobooks I keep my brains busy with. (Not recommended: Doctor Who: The Doctor Trap. I still don't know WTF happened in that book, and I can't really bring myself to care. The audiobook is read by Russel Tovey though, so it does have that going for it. It'd be awesome if it had more than that going for it, but whatever.)

We're working up to longer distances, though for the moment I'm still discovering good routes where we can walk where there isn't a lot of traffic (we're walking after dark and both the traffic and the headlights that come along with it are not pleasant) and where there's enough road for us to get a decent workout. I'm also going to start working on this couch to 5K running plan, though I'm waiting for my Vibram Fivefingers to arrive before I really get back to the running again. Having started off running as a barefooter, I can't imagine how people do this in shoes... I barely got anywhere in my trainers before I was getting shin splints, horrible knee pain and sore muscles in non-standard places. Oh, VFFs. Please arrive soon and save me from the evils of shoes. Down with shoes! Up the republic! Full speed ahead! Et cetera!

In other news, three of you gave me virtual snowflake cookies. The only way that this gift could be better is if they were actual cookies which I could consume. Was there a meme or something? Was I mini-flashmobbed? (That would be for the lulz.) I have no idea why several of you decided to send me virtual cookies at the same time. Did I sleepwalk to my computer and post about my craving for cookies? (I was totally having one, for the record.)

Just as a heads-up, I am working on starting up a new blog in which I will post real-life things, and start using this account only for fandom-type stuff. So in future all my photo posts and things about Trudeau and Juno and essays and whatnot will all be going into the new blog. I know it's kind of lame and confusing, but I'm working on selling myself, as it were -- as a photographer and artist and author and whatever other titles I might randomly appropriate -- and that's just easier to do under my real name and a separate account. I will announce it here though, when it's all ready and open; just wanted to give a heads-up to keep an eye out for that.

agentotter: a raven against stormy skies (Default)
You guys are not going to believe this at all, but this is a true story:

Today my boss brought another couch into the office. This is a thing he does; he acquires stuff, and instead of taking it home he brings it here. It explains the state of our office, which is barely-controlled chaos with a side of indoor yard sale. But whatever. So he brought in a new couch, and he needed to move his old two-seater loveseat deal out of the "conference room" (which is really his poodles' bedroom). So they brought this little couch into my office. And when I pointed out that the only one here who was going to use it was my dog, everyone gave me this duh sort of look.

I kid you not. Not only can I bring my dog to work (and he's settled down enough now that I can let him wander the office at will and not worry that he will devour my boss's poodles), but my boss gave my dog an entire couch of his own.

Trudeau may officially be the most spoiled creature in all the land. He wouldn't have you believe that, though. I've now got him in a gentle leader headcollar, which I was skeptical of just because I thought he'd easily slip out of it, but not so... I've been taking him on walks in it and suddenly my ridiculous stress-inducing maniac-style pulling dog has become a well-mannered angel. We can even walk by other dogs and it's easy to keep him in control when he gets overexcited by that. (By contrast, I have in the past had to physically restrain him, while trying to also not get bitten by whatever loose dog Trudeau is trying to killify.) It's fucking awesome. But occasionally he goes nuts with trying to scratch it off his head, and when I try to stop him before he knocks his own teeth out or something, he yelps like I'm killing him.

It's made for some interesting walks in the park. The other day a woman turned back and made a remark which sounded like, "That's awful." But it also might've been "That's thoughtful," so maybe she was paying me a compliment. *fails at dogs*

In other news, I embarked upon my expedition to San Francisco last weekend. There were many lulz, and awesome fangirls (plus bonus fanboy), and I even enjoyed an alcoholic beverage. And a buffalo burger. In case you were wondering, [personal profile] cofax7 and [personal profile] kuwdora are somehow impossibly EVEN MORE AWESOME in person. Cofax even made me an omelette. Nobody's ever made me an omelette before. And kuwdora led me on a whirlwind tour of San Francisco's sights by foot and public transit, but I have to say that my favorite part was the Castro. (Did you know there are places where gay people can go out in public while actively being gay?) So very strange and wonderful, this foreign land.) To round out the weekend of First Times I Did That, I also had my first flat tire. >.< Why yes, those were brand new tires. Why yes, I did just buy them two days before. DAMN YOU, FATES.

My first night in town I went to see The Swell Season in concert in Oakland, which admittedly was mostly the reason for the whole trip. It was amazing. I really don't quite have the words for you to describe how fantastic it was. I can only say that while their recorded music has the power to move you, their music live will make you feel as if you've been lifted off your feet. It's a bit of a strange sensation, considering how many of the songs Glen Hansard writes are about struggling and failing, falling and getting up again, hope in the darkest of hours and love that doesn't generally conquer all. But somehow listening to this music lives makes you... I don't know, makes you want to be a better person. Makes you want to do right by the people in your life and appreciate them more and pick yourself up and dust yourself off and hell, maybe busk on a street corner. Their music is an ode to human fortitude and frailty, to mistakes and regrets and the hope that next time you'll get it right. As you can see, I'm still coming down off the high, but thankfully it's not worn off yet.

Also, those of you who have seen and enjoyed Marketa Irglova and Glen Hansard in Once may be interested to know that Marketa has an almost entirely different speaking voice now. I guess she's been in Ireland long enough and Glen's clearly been an influence on her speech patterns; she now speaks with an Irish accent with inflections more or less identical to Glen's. It's fucking adorable. They're all adorable. That fiddle player was adorable, and he played a solo all of his own. And Glen played a song unplugged, and he frequently recruited the audience to sing background vocals and whatnot and it was just a blast. The only thing that would've made it better was if there had been a dancefloor instead of seating. I could've shook my "moneymaker," as the kids say.

If you haven't heard The Swell Season before -- or The Frames, or Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova, or whatever search terms might bring you to the epic music that comes from Glen Hansard's brains and his brilliant collaborations with other brilliant artists -- I really hope you'll give them a listen. You can find their official website here, and a YouTube playlist of some of my favorite album and live tracks here.

In WTF news, I went to YouTube just now to access my collection of Hey Rosetta! videos, and under "recommended for you," among Glen Hansard, Matthew Good, and Supernatural bloopers, there was a video titled "Flies on a dead cow." From the preview picture, it appeared to be a video of just that. What's up, YouTube? You really think I want to watch a video of flies on a dead cow? What exactly are you trying to say about me?
agentotter: a raven against stormy skies (Default)
Things that suck: Mondays, morning, work. (So basically the suck of today is Monday3.) Also, CAFFEINE WITHDRAWAL. OMG. I complained to Mal yesterday that I was having horrific headaches for no good reason, and she asked if I'd had caffeine.


This is why I keep weaning myself off the devil juice. It's not worth it on those days when you don't caffeinated yourself. Damn you, addiction. This time I need to kick it FOR GOOD OMG.

Things that do not suck: A pair of baby moose playing in a sprinkler.

That video is 100% guaranteed to make your day more awesome. YOU'RE WELCOME.

In other news, the Lady Washington, one of the tallships with which I am totally obsessed, assisted in the rescue of boaters in distress yesterday. Having to be rescued after your sailboat capsizes must not be fun at all, but imagine if the ship that spotted you and radioed for help was a 1750s-era tallship. I mean, my mind would be a little blown. :D

In other news, it's really ridiculously nice to have a job where I can bring my dog to work with me. He's currently snoozing under the window, and occasionally staring at me as if there really ought to be snacks involved in this process. <3
agentotter: (one of those days)
It's a gorgeous day today. I want about thirty more days like this, all in a row. And they must all be Sundays, so I don't have to go to work. If any of you figure out how to bend space/time in this way, please let me know.

Trudeau is at the vet's office getting neutered (hooray!), and at the vet's office there was a ridiculously adorable little blue kitten wandering around. Trudeau didn't eat it, and I was terribly proud of him. Meanwhile, I'm puttering around the house getting a few things done, oiling some tack that I have for sale (despite how nice it looks all oiled up, it will no doubt continue to not-sell; everybody's got tack for sale here as people are scrambling for money to buy hay for the winter). Yesterday when I was out in our little yard with Trudeau, I was considering digging in again to our garden, which I'm attempting to excavate (it's full of blackberry brambles and gravel) so that we can actually plant something back there. Unfortunately, I discovered that the job has doubled while I wasn't looking... not because the brambles have grown, but because apparently one of our neighbors has helpfully dumped their own cut brambles and weeds over the fence and into our yard. So where I used to have a fairly manageable space that I was chipping away at, I now have a brush pile.

I would weep a little, if it wasn't Sunday. (Oh, Sunday. I love you.) Instead, I'm going to finish up here, then spend the rest of the daylight working with the horses and waiting for the vet to call to tell me Trudeau's ready to come home.

Then I'm gonna see if I can train him to haul brambles out of the yard. He needs to earn his keep.
agentotter: (waldo)
According to [ profile] danger0usbeans, who is widely acknowledged as an expert in these matters, posting about dogs on the internet without providing pictures will cause said dog to explode.

Frankly, I feel that's rather unfair to the dog, but who am I to question the wisdom of the Internets? In the words of a thousand Internet users, "Pics or it didn't happen." So, I feel it is my duty to bring you pics. Because it did happen. Trudeau happened.

He is filled with ennui about... stuff. And he thinks really deep thoughts. And I seriously defy you to not be swayed by the power of those wrinkly golden eyebrows.

OM NOM NOM NOM. I won't tell you what it is he's chewing on, because you don't want to know. Instead, I'll tell you that these photos don't really show you his size, but basically I've decided he's a cross between a german shepherd and GODZILLA. I don't actually have to bend down to pet him. At all.

Things that I have learned about Trudeau today include:
* How it is that he probably came to be a stray dog in the first place... he is prodigiously talented at slipping right out of a collar. Also, if you use the leash to create a makeshift slip collar, he'll get out of that too. I see now why the people at the shelter used a harness on him, even though it just encouraged his pulling. Thanks for the heads-up, jerks.
* He either wants to play with horses, or he wants to bite them. It's hard to tell. Either way, Trudeau and Juno (Juneau?) are not currently mix-y things. He playbowed and snapped his jaws and generally made a spectacle of himself while Juno just stood there not even really noticing his existence. (He then slipped his collar and ran around like a lunatic on a caffeine high, and acted like he was going to bite my friend's filly on the ass, much to my horror. Needless to say, I won't be taking him out of the truck at the barn for some time.)
* He actually has the ability to bend space and time. This is the only explanation I can come up with to explain how it is that he thinks all 90 pounds of him will fit into my lap.
* He likes couches. Once you invite him up, you will never get rid of him. Until he realizes that he can't actually fold himself onto the couch, either. Even the dog beds are a stretch, when he really wants to spread himself out.

Yesterday he mostly followed me around like if he let me out of sight I was going to disappear, never to be seen (or to feed him) again. Today he's already relaxing more and occasionally electing to spend a little time in rooms that I am not in. Progress! Tomorrow we have an appointment bright and early for his ball-removal, which will be nice. He doesn't need those anyway.


agentotter: a raven against stormy skies (Default)

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