The other thing Meghan and I have in common: our borderline crazy love for our dogs.
Here’s my baby, Ursa Minor.
Don’t you love her?
You love her.
SAY YOU LOVE HER.
Sorry, sorry. Maybe not so borderline, right?
I didn’t realize I was a nutso dog person until I picked Ursa out from a rescue web site three years ago. I’d grown up with a black German shepherd, so when I saw a photo of a wee little black German shepherd mix puppy, well. Once I realized what I’d name her, it was over. We picked her up in the middle of a winter storm, and she’s pretty much been in charge of us ever since.
The interesting thing is that Ursa has helped me get serious about my writing career. I didn’t think so those first three days we had her, when all the advice about keeping her in her crate and letting her howlhowlhowl it out seemed like really dumb advice. I was in school at the time, and I’m going to blame my lack of lit theory comprehension on all that hopping out of bed to take her out. But eventually she let us sleep for two hours at a time, then four, then one sweet night all the way through to the alarm. During the day, she trotted around the house looking for things to destroy. She played hard, ate with gusto, walked, pooped, then napped. On a schedule.
The second that little handful of dog fell asleep, I plopped down with my laptop and wrote. On her schedule.
We also started staying home more. When we went out, we begged off early because our puppy was at home in her crate and needed to be let out. We became, in a word, lame.
But even now that Ursa doesn’t use the crate—she sleeps in a pile of puff on the floor next to our bed, and she’s trustworthy enough to be loose in the house while we’re gone—we still prefer home over most other places.
Which is a really good way to get your word count up.
I write on a different schedule now. When my lunch hour clock starts, I drop into whatever I’m working on and try to get as much done as I can before the puppy wakes up—er, before I’m due back at my desk.
Different clock ticking, same urgency. Just like when Ursa ruled my world with her unpredictable thimble-sized bladder, I need to use the time I have. Just like when I felt guilty about being away from Ursa too long, I feel the tug of my book when I’m away from it too many days in a row.
What Ursa’s taught me: Raising a puppy is a commitment not unlike writing a book. Both take a lot of time. Both have dark moments. Both make me borderline crazy happy.
Come on, admit it. You love her, right?
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Lori Rader Day lives and writes in Chicago. She likes a good mystery. Read her blog at http://loriraderday.blogspot.com/
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