Came home last night, and as I was letting myself in the door, it occurred to me to wonder what Mack, the current foster dog, was going to make of me, as I hadn't been home in the two weeks he'd been here. I got my answer in a tremendous bark and scrabble of toenails, at which point I yelled "CUT THAT OUT you ridiculous hound I LIVE HERE" and lunged for the light switch. The light revealed a 90# German Shepherd looking so apologetic that he was nearly folded in half.
Today khajja_meezer and I trekked out to the Pleasant Hill adoption day and had a good time, while wedging in a few errands (we now have quite the collection of scavenged dog crates, almost sufficient to our modest needs!)
Came home and all was well until Mack decided that I didn't belong near his bed, at which point he became the sorriest dog in the kingdom because both Kat and I came down on him like a ton of bricks. Now if I come near him he backs away, which is just sufficient to save him from my wrath (or so I am convincing him). This is more adrenaline rush than I really needed in a 24 hour period, but I am assured that we are doing the right thing training wise, and that he should learn pretty darn quickly. This is a good thing, because my patience for having a dog come at me in my own home is, unsurprisingly, limited.
Boring food entry:
tuna & mayo, breakfast
triple breve latte + lemon scone
cobb salad @ Lyons w/ thousand island dressing, go me except I stupidly permitted myself to eat the bread
weirdly, for dinner, I made a "mousse" of low-carb shake mix and cream. Non-optimal, but satisfying
little water, except at the restaurant, but much hot tea.
Relevantly, yesterday was the death of 1000 M&Ms. Day before was the class elflet co-taught, on service and cooking, which was laden with many deadly delights. I knew I was in trouble that afternoon in the kitchen, when I started snacking on the white compound coating. *sigh*