Happy Tuesday!

I'm a little too rushed to give you much of a post today, as I must dash in a million directions until late into the eve. I don't even have time to scamper. But I didn't want to leave up the last post and lead you all astray, thinking you had one more day to get a discounted copy of THE HOT MESS. Sorry, folks, the offer's done, and I'll tell you all about it later in the week.

Instead, I thought I'd give you the inspiration for the name of my publishing company, Dancing Corgi Press.



Duffy (my Corgi) does do a little dance at breakfast, although it's mostly a bunch of circles, interrupted by a few impatient taps of the front feet. I'd record it, but seriously, who is THAT awake at 7 a.m.?

BeeTeeDubs, yes, Dancing Corgi Press has only one author. She's a real witch and I am simply too exhausted to take on any others.

Am I back?

I must be. I'm at least sitting in my family room.

We got in last night around 7:00 p.m. which was just early enough to unpack the car, wander through the house wondering how I left it in such a mess, start a load of laundry and discover the dryer vent needed to be vacuumed out again, and finally rummage through the pantry and ice chest for something approximating dinner.

So even though I'm here, I'm still kind of sleep-walking, trying not to admit I'm back to chores and commitments. I'd show you pictures of the idyllic mountains, still dotted with snow, and the crystalline lakes that are uber-cold, but I didn't take any. Here's a picture from 2004 of our children, enjoying the stream that runs through the lodge:

The boy in the middle back is Thor. He's 21 now. His brother Nick, front center, just graduated from high school, as well as Alanna, to the right. Marcus is on the left, looking so much smaller than today's version, a sophomore at CSULB.

I don't have pictures of them this year, although Dale might. As odd as it sounded, it was painful for me to think of them as growing up and going off. Thor hasn't been able to join us since he graduated from high school. Who knows who will be able to join us next year.

Yes, it's fun to see them become fine young men and women. Yes, I know they must become adults. But look back at that picture, feel the innocence and tell me it doesn't hurt to see them slip away.

In addition to the mountains, the ladies took a day to scamper over to Portola and shop. I stuck my head in Kelly Peroni's indy shop, High Sierra Books. This is what I found:

Too cool, yes? I'm right next to Lee Child. Kelly ordered more books, which is even more cool.

To cap everything off, we had a one-nighter in downtown Sacramento.

I loved-loved-loved walking around the neighborhood with the dog, and on Sunday morning, I went on a tour of the old Governor's Mansion. I love touring old neighborhoods and houses and hearing all about how people lived.

Before we left, I made my family walk back over to the mansion and take a picture of me and Duffy. The mansion WAS only across the street from our hotel, and the Governor DOES have a Corgi.

Yes, I know he doesn't live in the mansion, but still. Corgis rule.

And now, as Dale said when he turned on Hell's Kitchen when we came home, "Back to reality."

So - anyone else want to share what you did on summer vacation?

Beware the Corgi

My son sent me the following link today:


http://www.geekosystem.com/corgi-epoch/




Mikey

 The article describes how corgis (the dogs, not the die-cast company) are taking over the world. All I can add to this is, "Well, of course. Haven't you been paying attention?"




The biggest sign of this is that, when I bought my first Corgi, Mikey, and Googled the word "corgi." The first few hits were for the Corgi USA Classic Die-cast Company and their products. The dogs weren't usually found until the second page. Now, the dogs are at the top of the page.



Duffy



As for me, we're on our second Corgi, and they couldn't be more different. Mikey would charm you out of the world. Duffy just takes it.

One reason Peri might not have a dog

In addition to my two horses and the cat, we have a Pembroke Welsh Corgi named Mikey. I use the term "we" very loosely. My son wanted a cat so we got Katy, who immediately bonded to me. Then he wanted a dog, so we got Mikey, who bonded to, yes, me. Even the goldfish (RIP) used to swim to my side of the bowl when I walked into the room.

Mikey will listen to Dale and Marcus, my hubby and son, but when Ihe hears my voice, they disappear. He understands that Dale and Marcus are ahead of him in the pack, but I am the pack leader.

Go ahead, say it: I am the Alpha Bitch.

If Peri had a dog, she would definitely be the alpha bitch, but I doubt she'd like a dog as attached to her as Mikey is to me.

Every morning, he waits for me to get up and let him out to go pee. Dale gets up earlier, and I know the dog would like to relieve his full bladder, but he stays by my side of the bed until I stir. I imagine what he might say if he could talk-

"Thanks, sir, no, I'll wait for HER. SHE'S the only one who can open the patio door the way I like it. SHE pours the dog food into my bowl JUST RIGHT."

Actually, if he could talk, he'd probably say, "Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!"

Being worshipped has its downside. I cannot go anywhere in the house alone. Hell, I can't go anywhere in a room alone. If I am in the kitchen and I walk to the stove, Mikey follows me to the stove. If I walk to the table, he follows me to the table. It's like having a growth on my calf muscle. I can even hear his toenails clicking impatiently while I'm in the bathroom. This is only slightly better than when Marcus was a toddler and would wiggle his fingers under the door ("Mom? Are you there, Mom? What are you doing?")

The one thing he might love more than me is food. The only two things he won't eat are the stems of collard greens, which are too tough, and raw mushrooms. He loves grapes, apples, broccoli, carrots, and I've seen him dive for cilantro I've dropped on the floor. Once, he dug through my gym bag and either ate a baggie of Echinacea or vitamins. I know he was very perky for the rest of the day.

The funniest thing he ever did in the name of food was when I walked into the dining room and found him on top of the table, eating cookies. Picture it, people: a corgi has gotten on top of a dining table. What the-? Did he fly?

Turns out, someone had left a chair pushed out.

After a lifetime of finishing whatever Marcus left on his plate within the dog's reach, Mikey finally had a bout of pancreatitis (I think it was that large helping of birthday cake and ice cream) that put him on the low-fat, low-calorie bandwagon. Every day he gets 2/3 cup of dry, diet kibble.

If I had to eat that, and only that, every day, I'd kill someone.

As much as MIkey can annoy me, I still love him. (There's a crack here I could make about my hubby, but I'll resist.) He's already 10 years old, and a little gimpy in one shoulder. I'll weep like a baby when he goes, and I'll have to get another one, not to "replace" him, but to pet and lead and bond with and gather more stories about.

Now it's your turn: what's the most annoying, funny thing your loving, adorable pet has ever done?