Erica Lucke Dean

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ole!

I’ve blogged about why the world needs Godzilla.  I’ve written about wombats, leprechauns, and tourniquets.  And let’s not forget about tin foil, cheese, and a random sixty seconds in time.  All in the name of a good challenge.  So what do I really find challenging? 

Trying to write a blog with a giant dog vying for my attention.

I’ve been told more times than I can recall that Mastiffs aren’t known for their intellect. But Indiana Jones has discovered if he approaches my laptop with a wet face, I will quickly close it.  Come to my house at any given moment, and you might find me balancing my laptop over my head with one hand, while stretching for the nearest towel with the other.  And the towel is always just out of reach.

I suppose in a Pavlovian way, I’m to blame for his conditioning.  He has come to the conclusion that the laptop is his enemy, pulling my attention from him when he needs it most.  Of course, he needs attention almost constantly.  Like a toddler. 

A toddler with a really wet face.

As it happens, my “toddler” walks around with the Brazilian rainforest hovering around his face at all times.  Anyone who has seen the Sandlot, Beethoven, or even Turner and Hooch might have a vague understanding of what I go through on a daily basis.  Those cute moments immortalized in film seem almost insignificant when I think of the lengths I have to go through to sleep on a dry pillow, or even more impossible, to wear dry clothes.  I tell myself he doesn’t understand.  He’s just a dog.  But watch his reaction the minute I pull a computer onto my lap, and you might think differently. 

Suddenly this is not a child eager for attention. It’s a battle of wits between (wo)man and beast!

So there I am, like a matador, waving my ragged towel as he charges in.  But instead of shouting, “Toro!” I’m calling out, “Perro!”

Yeah, that’s Spanish for dog.

Thankfully, he’s snoring now.  He wore himself out in an expensive game of keep-away with my laptop.  At least I’m winning…for now.  But I’m not taking that whole “Mastiffs aren’t smart” thing for granted.  After all…I feed him the expensive dog food with Omega 3.  That stuff is brain food!

Until the next time…I’ll be writing while he sleeps!