Friday, 3 June 2011


I am tired today.

I am tired most days, not because I have a busy schedule, or am raising three active teens (I have no children and I only work occasionally). I am tired because I have dogs.

Are you thinking of getting a dog?  Do you like sleep?  Do not get a dog if you like sleep. They will rob you of your sleep and repay you only in drool, fur and poop. Do you like yelling and having something small and not very smart watch you while you pee? Then get a dog. Off you go.

Sure, sure they’re cute, and good company and will (if you’re lucky) love you unconditionally and for reasons other than food (doubters). But in the end, there is a deficit on the side of “good reasons for getting a dog”. You will pay. It’s like having a toddler for 14 years that will never grow up to pay for your nursing home costs.

Being on the road for so many years, owning a dog was something I dreamed of. It represented stability, nesting, staying home for more than a few weeks at a time. When I left the music business back in 2001, I planned to go back to school, buy a condo and get that dog. I was putting down roots. I researched dog breeds and decided I wanted a French Bulldog, but my mother said I shouldn’t get a smushed nose dog, but a pointy nosed dog as they were much more attractive. My dad said he liked shelties.  So I looked in to Shelties and they seemed to fit the bill and keep everyone happy. So much might be different if only I hadn’t listened to my mother. I blame her for so much in my life.

Gracie came home with me on Sept 1, 2002 because she was the only dog of the litter of 6 that paid any attention to me. I’m a whore that way.

We went to puppy training classes and she did ok, actually. She was scared of stairs, other dogs and noise.

It’s been almost 9 years that Gracie has been a part of my life and every grey hair I have on my head, I attribute to her. Her biggest problem, most specifically, is her inability to be a cat.

She will fight me to get at her poops. She likes to eat it. Yes.
She will bark incessantly until I say “Blue”. Her dog walker picked that word. Thank you, Nina!
She will eat anything. Except celery.

When Brian and I moved in together we had to deal with the blending of our furry family. He had 2 dogs and a cat. (Scooby and Roo, God rest their souls, and Jack. Jack is our special needs child).


Within 2 days Gracie had a couple stitches in her nose and a plastic cone on her head. And there was a baby gate separating the mangy creatures from each other. Ah, our happy home.

Gracie is an instigator who is unaware that she is not the boss of everything. Jack is a reactor who is unaware that not everything is going to kill him immediately.

Gracie will bark at the following things:

I joke about giving her away, but the truth is I love the little monster. She makes me crazy, deprives me of the recommended amount of sleep for human beings who want to function properly and is decidedly unpleasant to walk. However, she polices the cat –when she knows that cat is up to no good, Gracie sounds that alarm. When she’s been to the dog groomer and has been given a jaunty kerchief to wear, she works it. 

She knows she looks good.  

She wiggles her bum when I come home.

She has one crazy tooth that sticks out of her mouth.

She makes adorable grunty sounds and snores like a businessman.

 This above all other things, I adore.


  1. so hard to hate such a CUTE doggie! She is adorable. But I agree, I have two cats that love to wake me up at ungodly hours and give each other the stink eye and get into trouble. But they are my companions, my loves.

  2. I want a picture Ellen! And I do love your blog!!!

  3. Who are you madgirl! I will draw you a picture, of course! But I'm not sure who you is!

  4. Mom of Thor & Luka5 June 2011 at 20:18

    I think this is the first time I have laughed until I peed reading a blog.

    While we wash our peed-on sofa quilt for the 56th time in the last 2 months, consider that at least Gracie doesn't hump pillows, and quilts and blankets that she rolls up into balls to simulate a female dog in heat, and hump until she gets a stiffie any 6 foot 5 macho man would envy; then, since she's fixed and doesn't actually have any man-sauce, pee onto the rolled-up blanket or accomodating pillow as her denouement. The disgusting stiffie would be bad enough; leaving a stinky splash of urine behind really takes the cake.

    Yes, this is Thor. Still. Thor will be 11 in October. You'd think a geriatric dog would get too crotchety for these f*cking shenanigans.

    He used to do this to stuffed animals too but that stopped eventually. I guess he found them too threatening.

    The little shit lets me sleep through the night though. I should be thankful for small favours.