My dogs have a way of laying on the guilt trip. Whenever I put on my jacket to go out, my thirteen year old pug, Jelly, transforms from an arthritic perennial lounger to a pup at heart, hopping up and bounding about, tail wagging, barking. It’s her way of saying: “Finally! We’re going out! Allow me to lead the way!” And then parks herself in front of the door, waiting. If it isn’t immediately opened for her, she’ll glance back at me and bark, clearly annoyed. “Come on! What’s keeeping you?!”. There are times when I feel compelled to explain to her that every time I put on my jacket doesn’t necessarily mean I plan to take her for a walk. My other pug, Bubba, uses a more impassioned version of the same approach. He’ll spin and howl, happily jump and down. In contrast to Jelly’s more matter-of-fact “Yeah, we’re going out – as expected” attitude, Bubba opts for outrageous appreciation. “Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou!”he’s no doubt saying. “You’re the greatest. Thank you so much for this walk.” And then adopts a quizzical head cocked, brow furrowed look when I shut the closet door without retrieving his leash. “Huh? Oh, I’m sorry. I mistook you for someone who cares.” And, finally, there’s my french bulldog Lulu who prefers the more subtle approach. She’ll just park herself in front of the big window and stare longingly out at the street. “Yes, sirree,”her little tableau seems to say. “Sure would be nice to go out for a walk. Yep. That’d be mighty nice.”
In addition to taking them out to the backyard, we make it a point to walk all three dogs every day – weather permitting. And, if the weather is especially nice – like it was yesterday – one dog will be treated to a special excursion. Yesterday, it was Bubba’s turn to go out and about. We took him downtown so he could ham it up for passersby, then over to Granville Island where he showed some seagulls who was boss.
When we got home, he was so excited he actually took on the usually dominant Lulu, leaving her totally bewildered.
And, to reveal the big mystery in yesterday’s blog – that picture Akemi drew besides Bubba’s name was not his rear end (as I assumed), but his tooth. It was a reminder that Bubba had to go in for his dental today. They removed two teeth and sent him home – groggy but as hungry as ever. Below, my post-op boy –
While Bubba was at the vet’s and the ladies were home missing him, I was on a conference call with my writing partner and agents. Over the course of our conversation, we discussed the game plan: Dark Matter, the pilot, the horror script, in addition to a number of opportunities. Paul and I have decided to pull the trigger on one, a near-future mini-series that we begin spinning next week, and have more in depth discussions about a fantasy pilot that, should all go as planned, will go to series here in Vancouver. But, of course, this being show business, nothing ever goes as planned.
Speaking of plans, I hear that some of you are coming to town for a Renaissance Fair or Farscape covention (or something). Will I be running into any familiar faces downtown? If so, be sure to come armed with dog treats!