Lola is a beautiful dog, chocolate brown with white on her paws, and down her nose. She’s a dog-shaped vanilla ice cream sundae drenched in milk chocolate syrup. She’s got a pit bull face and maybe a little whippet in her, because she never filled out like a lab. From the beginning, she was all over the place, always wanting to play, always needing more attention but so, so eager to please. All sugar.
I had never owned a puppy before, and she had all the hyper, out-of-control, normal puppy character which drove me over the edge. I cried when we walked her; I cried when she bit me; I cried when she wiggled through the fence. Clarke bought a choke chain and tried to teach me to yank on it to deliver corrections. I cried then, too. Even though she didn’t seem hurt when I jerked, I felt awful. He told me I needed to master a “stern voice” to communicate that I meant business. I tried, but it didn’t come naturally. I cried some more.
Read the rest — buy the book on Amazon. (All the proceeds go to Mobile BayKeeper and the Bay Area Food Bank.)
Dania Rajendra 