My Life, Made Possible by MADISON!

The Fun Continues At Tumblr...

2011-02-25T09:27:00.000-08:00

I admit I don't really understand the purpose of Tumblr. It seems like something for people who don't have the attention span to blog but who can't quite get it all out in 140 characters, either. Yet, I started one for Madison because I noticed that lately, I don't have the attention span to blog over here and this became just about posting photos. And really, that's a waste of a blog! I'm keeping this site up so that if and when inspiration strikes again, there is a place for it. But I encourage you all to "follow" his new Tumblr for loads and loads of adorableness coming your way...on much more than just Woof Wednesdays!

My Shih Tzu is Smarter Than Your Honor Student on Tumblr

Buy the bumper sticker

Woof Wednesday...

2011-02-23T09:10:00.000-08:00

I was all excited when Mr. Bear was delivered to me (finally) this week. I decided his trenchcoat and ascot would make the perfect makeshift Castiel costume for Madison for this Halloween. Yes, I realize how early it is to think of such things, by the way! But unfortunately for me, the coat is too small, and he was not happy to have to wear it. So either he's about to go on the diet of his life or...I'm going to have to come up with something else just as clever/cute. Any suggestions?

Woof Wednesday...

2011-02-16T09:57:00.000-08:00

"Hello, my name is Madison. This is what I look like in the morning. And no, I am not okay with you taking a picture of me this early!"

Woof Wednesday...

2011-02-09T09:33:00.000-08:00

Madison sure is lucky he lives in Los Angeles, where he can run in the sand in February. He so does not take advantage of it, though!

Woof Wednesday...

2011-02-02T08:08:00.000-08:00

After two consecutive Wii with the Stars interviews (links coming soon), Madison has crashed. Clearly he can't handle fame!

Woof Wednesday...

2011-01-26T13:34:00.000-08:00

Madison is taking a sick day today, so please enjoy this classic picture of baby Madison mugging for the camera instead...

Like Mother, Like Son?...

2011-01-22T17:35:00.000-08:00

I get a lot of crap for the fact that Madison was a pet store puppy. I get crap from friends who think it's ridiculous that I spent as much as I did on him; I get crap from all the bleeding hearts in Los Angeles who think rescuing is the only way to go. But to that I ask: how come shelter rescues are the only kind of "accepted" rescues?

I rescued Madison; I just did so at a (pretty steep) price. He was born in Kansas, bred for sale, sure, and somehow he ended up in a pet store in a Beverly Hills mall. If he hadn't have been purchased, he would have ended up in a shelter like so many other dogs in need of loving homes. They're all deserving, but that is not really the point of this piece.

No, the point of this piece is that it never really dawned on me until recently but Madison and I have more in common than our love of cupcakes, the beach, and watching TV on the couch (all three of those things, admittedly, are learned interests and behaviors he got from me, so they shouldn't really count at all anyway!). They say you should pick a breed of dog that is going to best fit with your lifestyle, but I think it is the situation a dog comes from, too, that matters. I feel like I understand Madison a lot more because he and I have been cut from the same cloth in life.

Coming from a breeder, Madison didn't really have the traditionally, typically hard life style of those shelter dogs who often times have been abandoned, abused, and near death. We've all seen that ASPCA commercial; those dogs have been through some stuff! Their eyes are so soulful, you just know they've seen a lot and been through a lot. Madison's eyes never had anything but a shine to them. Even when I saw him in the pet store, and he was in a little cage with a handful of other puppies, clearly not too excited to be surrounded by so many in such close quarters, he seemed to be making the best of it. It was like he didn't realize there was something better out there or a much bigger world of which to try to be a part. Things weren't too bad: he was warm; he was dry; and he was being fed. He was okay where he was, and he assumed he'd always be okay because that's how things were going thus far.

But that's the thing of it: you only know what you see, and really, just okay isn't good enough.

I didn't grow up rich, but we were definitely comfortably middle class. I never had to work after school-- hell, my mother explicitly said she didn't want me to work after school so I could focus on my grades-- and she made sure I had everything I wanted, let alone needed. It's behavior I have duplicated with Madison now. My parents were married; my mother held a good job while my father was home with me during the day; we had a stable apartment, heat coming through the radiator, new clothes and shoes every season, and food on the table. Mine wasn't a traditionally or typically hard upbringing, either. On the surface everything looked good; it seemed like I had things easy.

But sometimes it is the situations that can't be put in any specific or expected boxes that are the hardest, and when are things ever what they seem, right? I was in a cage just as much as Madison in the pet store. My cage was not the childhood apartment in which I grew up but the metaphorical protective bubble my parents put around me, afraid of sending me out into the world, afraid of me being influenced by others outside of themselves, afraid of the boogeymen in the night and the kidnappers and drug dealers in the day.

You can look at a shelter dog and tell right away if it was abused: it will flinch when you try to come near it; its tail will tuck between its legs; it will curl up in a ball in the corner. You can give it a label and work towards trusting and loving again. For those of us that have grown up just being handed things, we come to expect a certain lifestyle, and though eventually we learn that ours isn't the only kind out there, we're often at a loss about how to go after anything different.

Pet stores will only keep a puppy for a few months, and if they're still left unsold, the puppy gets shipped off to a shelter before it gets too old. Sure, you could say this is because people stop in pet stores to coo over how cute the animals are, and the older they get, the cuteness diminishes (I tend to disagree, but then again Madison has a particularly and somewhat oddly youthful face, so I may just be biased). But I also think the longer a puppy stays in such a place, the more its view on the world gets skewed by its limited exposure to it, but the more willing it may be to just stay anyway.

Call such complacency a version of Stockholm Syndrome, if you want, but it is from such complacency that you need the true rescuing.

So when I walked into the pet store that March afternoon almost four years ago, I understood the plight of a little dog who had never experienced anything overtly terrible but could still have some damage and scars on the inside-- ones that maybe he didn't even realize were there because things on the outside were just so...seemingly ordinary. I saw myself in him for reasons I then couldn't quite comprehend, but I knew I knew him well-- I knew we had come from the same place. And for that, I thought I could help.

And maybe I have. I really don't have any doubt that if it hadn't been me, someone else would have come along and scooped him up out of that store quickly. He was really adorable, and let's face it: most people are just looking for something cute, not to make a connection. But I like to think that I offer him a unique and special life, and that is one that I am not the only one responsible for providing; he has a part to play, too. Madison has done for me just as much, if not more, than I have ever done for him.

Woof Wednesday...

2011-01-19T07:48:00.000-08:00

The morning-after the Life Unexpected finale. Madison is still in mourning. And I am probably never getting my sweatshirt back; it's his blanket now.

Woof Wednesday...

2011-01-12T09:51:00.000-08:00

Now Madison can play Angry Birds, too.

Well, that was the plan anyway, but apparently this bird doesn't know the difference between a cute puppy and a green pig.

Woof Wednesday...

2011-01-05T10:47:00.000-08:00

My little holiday star.

Woof Wednesday...

2010-12-29T09:45:00.000-08:00

Santa must be on Atkins because he left his cookies for Madison to finish for breakfast on Christmas morning. Which did he eat first? The traditional Polish bowties, of course!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-12-22T10:16:00.000-08:00

Madison Chandler, on his first Christmas three years ago. His faced as matured, but he hasn't gotten any bigger. I love that I can still fit him in a stocking!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-12-15T10:24:00.000-08:00

Madison has found a new blanket, and a cozy new rest place. It's like being outside but without all the leaves and gook and stuff!

Don't You Force That Thing On Him!...

2010-12-12T13:16:00.000-08:00

This blog was started earlier this year as a way to discuss how my life has changed since I became a mother to a fifteen (on cookie binge day) pound Shih Tzu named Madison. But because I started the blog when he was already a fully-grown, adult dog, already having gone through basic training, I found myself with fewer current stories and on the verge of a lot of repetition.

This year, maybe a bit too late, was all about Madison's socialization. When he was a puppy, he was the only dog in the building for awhile. The minute my apartment manager changed the pet policy, I ran out and got one-- in part out of fear he would change his mind and I would miss the briefly opened window. But I was the only one to really jump on it. No one else probably even read the addendum to the building rules and regulations right away. The point is, though, that especially in the beginning, it was just me and him: a human and a puppy. He learned that any time I was talking aloud in our apartment, I was doing so to him because there was no one else there. And he learned all of his commands very quickly.

He also learned to sit outside on the patio for hours by himself, just watching people walk by, quietly thumping his tail against the ground, hoping for a scratch or a pet or just a glance his way. He was curious, but he was still timid.

As time went on, he realized this was his home. We went to New York for a few weeks last year, and when we returned I was worried he would be confused, but the time away seemed to solidify where his place was, and maybe out of making up for lost time, he began to assert himself more. By then there were quite a few other dogs in the building-- and new puppies, too: ones that were stealing the attention from him.

Rather than want to feel them out, get to know them, make some friends his own size-- species-- he seemed to grow grumpier and embody the characteristics of an old man yelling at the kids to stay off his lawn.

It's been a slow process over the year to acclimate him, first to Snowball, who lives next door and gets so happy to see Madison he literally jumps up and down, and then to Charlie who lives across the way and sits and stares out the patio door as was always Madison's "signature," and finally to Teddy, who lives down the courtyard and is the spunkiest, yippiest, unfearing fluffy mouse of a puppy I've ever seen.

By now Madison can tolerate all of them, sure, but he still doesn't seem to want much to do with them. In the mornings he will cry by the door until I let him go see if any of his "friends" are in the courtyard, but if they are, he gets huffy and defensive and runs away. He likes to antagonize, not play.

I thought after all of this time things would be different. I thought he was just like me now in that maybe he needed to get to know the others before feeling like he could hang with them comfortably. But no, in actuality he is like me as a kid: no use for his own kind.

My mother used to worry because I never wanted to hang out with my classmates, or really most of the kids in my neighborhood who were my age. She always said she hoped I would have a daughter someday so I could understand how she was feeling and that when she would push me to go to a school dance or call someone on a Saturday to see a movie, it wasn't because she was trying to be mean or just get me out of the house. I don't need a daughter for that, though; I don't even need a human kid. I find myself doing the same things now, not because I think Madison is lonely, but because I want him to be a "normal" dog. It's a vicious cycle.

Eventually my mother learned to back off. She stopped pushing-- and then stopped asking. She saw I wasn't unhappy with the way I was living my life; it was just different from what she had envisioned. And since she had made me an only child, she shouldn't have been entirely surprised anyway. I would love for Madison to have a little brother or a sister, though. A major part of this socialization trend has been to warm him up to the idea of sharing his space with another dog. I give him more say in the matter than perhaps I should: sometimes you just have to deal with having another person (or in this case, dog) in your face and in your life. If I were to bring home another dog tomorrow, he'd get used to it. Eventually. I would just prefer he's happy about it.

Can I really expect him to be happy about something I never was and still wouldn't be, though? Sometimes I have to take bubble baths just to get some alone time and some of my personal space back from this little twelve (on a good day) pound guy. I, too, would freak out if some full grown human man wanted to move in!

I guess just like I wanted my mother to forgive my eccentricities and just let me be, I have to do the same as a mother.

Woof Wednesday...

2010-12-08T10:02:00.000-08:00

Madison, keeping a watchful eye over the holiday ornaments so I don't break many this year. He did a good job. Only one didn't make it onto the tree.

Woof Wednesday...

2010-12-01T10:24:00.000-08:00

Mine is a sleepy elf...

Woof Wednesday...

2010-11-24T08:58:00.000-08:00

Madison is my little proofreader these days...

Woof Wednesday...

2010-11-17T09:20:00.000-08:00

Portrait of a shaggy dog.

They tell me Madison is a purebred Shih Tzu...but in this picture he appears to have some sheepdog in him.

Woof Wednesday...

2010-11-10T09:48:00.000-08:00

Making a mohawk out of bubbles because his hair, even when long and shaggy, won't stand up on its own.

Woof Wednesday...

2010-11-03T10:46:00.000-07:00

Sometimes when Madison wakes up he looks like he has traveled back in time to when he was eight or nine months old. Permanent puppy face!

Happy Halloween!...

2010-10-31T14:37:00.001-07:00

They say we are what we eat, and Madison loves sweet stuff, like cookies, cupcakes, and ice cream. His personality definitely matches, so what else would he be for Halloween??

Hope your day is filled with plenty of treats, too!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-10-27T10:19:00.000-07:00

Madison makes the cutest figurine! But in actuality, he was trying to climb up what he thought were just really big steps, gave up when he realized he couldn't, and just sat down to relax.

BUBBLES!...

2010-10-21T18:51:00.000-07:00

Madison doesn't see a purpose to things that are not edible. Bubble bath is non-toxic, right?

Halloween Time Is Here Again...

2010-10-20T16:09:00.000-07:00

I'm really not into Halloween past the eating of the candy, and as an adult I can (and do!) do that all the time on my own; I don't need a designated day for it! So I don't really dress up. But last year Madison did!

Yup, there he is as Liz Lemon!!

He wasn't so into it. His pipecleaner glasses wouldn't stay on, and he had no interest in the Snuggie but was also just too lazy to really put effort into taking it off. Hmmm, he really is like Liz Lemon...or at least like me. Which is really the same thing anyway. But I digress...

Madison enjoys Halloween because he loves it when people knock on our door. He assumes every knock means someone coming over to play with him. And having little kids at the door is an added bonus for him, even if they're only going to spend a few seconds digging into a bag or bowl of candy. They always offer a scratch or a pet or a sniff, and he gets his kicks and seems to have the best day ever.

Since Madison is about as interested in the costume part of Halloween as I am, it doesn't seem like we'll be dressing up this year. But we have already begun celebrating in our own little way with candy (for me) and orange-dyed cookies for him. Who says you have to wait until October 31st??

Woof Wednesday...

2010-10-20T09:39:00.000-07:00

Madison stares longingly at my glass of water now. The second I turn my back he will probably make a beeline for sticking his face in it. But he's cute, so I don't yell too much!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-10-13T09:22:00.000-07:00

Madison went fishing in our apartment and then oh, so slyly tried to eat his catch...

Woof Wednesday...

2010-10-06T09:35:00.000-07:00

"Mama, the tiny man is so cute, I never even saw this hostage situation coming!"

Woof Wednesday...

2010-09-29T09:22:00.000-07:00

Working from home isn't as fun as it sounds. I end up having to find ways to tell this adorable face I'm too busy to play right now. Then he stares some more, and I feel bad and can no longer resist and then don't end up getting any work done. It's a vicious cycle.

Bonding Attempts #412 & #413...

2010-09-24T18:31:00.000-07:00

Madison and Snowball have been spending a lot of time together now that they are both neutered. In an attempt to force them to bond, I broke out the toys.

Snowball seemed way more interested in Madison's stuff since he isn't used to them and doesn't have them around all of the time, but some of them still escaped him. Well, okay, one in particular: Madison's gefilte fish, a gift for Hanukkah from his grandmother two years ago. Snowball spent about an hour barking at it and backing away slowly. The next time he came over, he seemed a bit more used to it, but still not loving it. Is he racist? You decide:

Next we tried playing tug-of-war. Which would have worked fine, except both dogs are pretty inherently lazy and didn't do it right:

After the rousing afternoon, Madison needed to cool off. With whatever was closest:

Le sigh. I guess we'll try again over the weekend!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-09-22T10:48:00.000-07:00

I caught Madison dozing off during the new fall shows. Then Madison caught me taking pictures of him doing so and was not amused that I was "outing" him.

"But Mama, I have to work tomorrow! Leave me alone!"

Woof Wednesday...

2010-09-15T09:05:00.000-07:00

Madison is making himself right at home on Amber's old blanket. I guess this is how he tells me he does want to keep it for himself.

Woof Wednesday...

2010-09-08T10:58:00.000-07:00

Even after being neutered, Snowball still can't resist me!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-09-01T09:49:00.000-07:00

Though Madison injured his paw (AGAIN) due to all the debris on the floor, he enjoyed having the painters in our house so much, he made a bed out of their stuff.

Best Dressed At The 2010 Primetime Emmys...

2010-08-29T14:57:00.001-07:00

I know the red carpet coverage has barely begun, but I don't think it's too early to call it. Who wouldn't want to stop and chat with this handsome young man??

Madison Has A New Celebrity Crush!...

2010-08-28T12:43:00.000-07:00

Woof Wednesday...

2010-08-25T10:11:00.000-07:00

How did you think Madison got so soft and fluffy??

And yes, I admit I tried to get him to go in the dryer for this shot. He was not having it. Smart boy!

Where Did You Go (My Lovely)?...

2010-08-21T06:46:00.000-07:00

Madison didn't sleep with me last night. Sure, he jumped into bed right after The Soup (what? I was tired! I had a long, hard day!) to lay on his pillow and keep one eye on me as I drifted to sleep, but then he seems to have jumped back off the bed and into the apartment.

This is becoming more and more common with him. I don't know if it's because he's too hot at night and prefers to lay on the cool leather of our sofa or vinyl kitchen floor, or if he just has become a night-owl in in his early adulthood. Three and a half in human years is supposed to be around 25 for dogs...but then again I'm around 25 so...

I don't know what he does all night, but I do know that when he crawls back into bed at six a.m. like a boyfriend who has been out partying with his buddies but wants his girlfriend to wake up with him there and assume he's been there the whole time, I still accept him. I still lift my arm so he can curl under it and rest my head on his furry little back. I am still grateful for the half-hour or whatever of cuddle time that he allows me before I'm fully awake and ready to start my own day.

There are people who say that you can't fully bond with a child who is not your own genetically because of some inherent differences, but Madison and I are not even of the same species, and I find we have quite a lot in common. So many more things than we give credit are learned behaviors. So maybe, like me, he just needs his independence from time to time these days. And who am I to deny him that?

Woof Wednesday...

2010-08-18T09:52:00.000-07:00

My dog has the craziest hair!

Introducing Madison as George Michael Bluth...

2010-08-13T15:06:00.000-07:00

Today I was making lunch, and as always, Madison was sitting patiently at the edge of the kitchen, just by the microwave, waiting for me to toss him some scraps.

So I did. I peeled a part of a piece of cheddar cheese and tossed him a decent size piece. Instead of leaping up to snatch it in his mouth like the big dogs do, Madison turned his back so it wouldn't hit him in the face and let it strike his back instead. Then he gobbled it up off the floor.

Even my dog misses Arrested Development.

Lazy, Hazy Days of Summer...

2010-08-13T10:17:00.000-07:00

It's Friday the 13th. I've never been a seriously superstitious person, but today started off so rough that I was beginning to feel like I should just crawl back into bed and wait for the weekend. For starters, when I awoke (early, I might add, for no good reason but a weird sense of something going wrong), Madison was not in bed. Usually he only leaves early if he has done something bad in the middle of the night. I found him curled on his pillow on the couch, though I couldn't find any evidence of the wrongdoing. Maybe there was none; maybe I will just find it long after the fact.

Things went from just slightly odd to worse with a major technology fail on one of the entertainment sites' for which I write's upgrade. My articles were jumbled, with photos resized incorrectly, slideshows linking to the wrong media, videos duplicating, and articles that should have been saved in draft actually showing up-- unfinished-- as published. I couldn't log into my account to make any manual changes either. That's actually when I first remembered it was Friday the 13th.

So trying to avoid stressing out unnecessarily about things I couldn't control and which may still continue to go wrong over the course of the day, since the entire week in general was kind of a mess (I got a ticket after simply trying to pull over to get out of a police officer's way. I was trying to do the right thing, but he cited me for speeding up to pass a vehicle. To pull over. I'm beginning to hate LA.), I decided to just power down the laptop and bring a book-- yes, an actual book!-- down to the pool to sit, read, relax, and tan. And since Madison is such an instrumental part in making any crappy situation infinitely better, I am bringing him with me!

Madison likes to explore around the pool. Though the noises the filters make still scare him, he will tentatively lean over the edge of the shallow end to sniff and attempt to drink. If our building's courtyard is his backyard; the pool is simply a giant water bowl out of which for him to drink. He is pretty sure everything in his path has been put there for his own enjoyment!

Madison also likes to just lounge on my lap and block my book with his big furry head. When it gets too hot, he jumps off and migrates to underneath the chair, where he can position himself directly under me so that my body blocks the slots in the chair through which the sun might normally stream. He keeps a close eye out for neighbors on their way to the garage or laundry room, and occasionally he'll go for a walk and a sniff around, looking for fabric softener sheets stuck to the floor of the laundry room or for spare cans from the vending machine or by the big potted plants. It's a way for him to enjoy some outdoor time that feels like a more exotic place than our apartment's patio but without having to go too far in the hot, hot summer heat.

Though I admit I owe us a trip to the beach stat! It is mid-August, and I haven't been there since July 4th weekend. Who knew not being traditionally employed would cramp my beach style more than having a 9-5??

I was hoping that the book I would bring down there would be my book. The physical proof of my self-published pop culture memoir was shipped to me earlier this week, and I was told I would have it today. But since things can't go right today, I'm sure I will wake up to it tomorrow morning. And that's fine. I'm learning to just breathe and let things fall into place as they may. And also, it will give another reason to look forward to the weekend!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-08-11T09:55:00.000-07:00

Happy to be outside and enjoying the warm summer mornings once again now that Mama is back "working" from home again.

Is Madison A Changeling?...

2010-08-09T09:15:00.000-07:00

About two weeks ago Madison went to the groomer. This shouldn't be news worthy; he goes every six weeks. It really shouldn't warrant the first written blog in more than a month! But this groomer trip was unlike those that came before it. For one thing, when he was returned to me, I was not told that he was squirmy and agitated the whole time. Huh. That was suspicious within itself. Madison is finnicky and doesn't like things going near his butt, feet, or face. Especially sharp and/or buzzing objects, like scissors and/or clippers. But I ignored it, thinking-- and let's face it, just plain hoping-- he was finally growing up.

The second thing that was kind of weird about this groomer's trip-- but not entirely unwelcome either-- was that he came back looking adorable. Usually he looks a bit weird: without all of the hair he looks too skinny and his big eyes pop more and give him "crazy face." And I admit, I usually end up having to trim the hair on his ears even after I get him home because I want him to look like a Shih Tzu puppy, not a basset hound! But this time, they even did his ears exactly as I like them.

(If you've ever used Petco grooming yourself, you might understand why I am so surprised at this positive experience.)

It's been about two weeks since Madison got that fateful haircut, and it is still holding up exceptionally well. I haven't even had to trim the hair around his eyes yet. He grows cuter by the day. And then I started to notice something else: I have been feeling especially run-down lately. I have found myself passing out on my couch at random intervals, napping at lunch instead of heading down to the pool to tan (and nap there). I have been sleeping hard and well but I find I still crash in the middle of the afternoon. At first I thought I was just worn out from TCA madness and from poor eating habits. But wait, it gets worse...

Yesterday during a meeting, I had an itch on the back of my neck and when I went to scratch, I felt a bumpy, slightly rough patch that felt (and then looked when I finally had a chance to run to a bathroom mirror) like a weird bug bite. I began to put all of the things together: the changes in Madison, the lethargy, the mark on my neck. Could my child be changed? Could he be a changeling?

He's still my sweet little boy who sucks the food off of my plate; I can't believe he's the one sucking the life out of me! It must be the eating habits, or the fact that I'm still, for the most part, unemployed-- or even the fact that it's still hot in the valley, even if it's not as hot as it usually is at this time of year. Besides, even if it was Madison, it's not like I'm going to do anything about it. All he has to do is cuddle with me in the mornings and he makes all of the bad things he does seem all right. What can I say? I'm a sucker for this little guy!

...or maybe I just really need to get off the couch and stop watching tv...

Woof Wednesday...

2010-08-04T09:52:00.000-07:00

"Mama, you don't have to go to the TCAs again, do you?"

Woof Wednesday...

2010-07-28T10:22:00.000-07:00

I just think Madison has such a cute, soulful expression in this photo!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-07-21T08:24:00.000-07:00

I love and support my gay canine son!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-07-14T07:40:00.000-07:00

Madison made a new friend! He hasn't even seen Toy Story 3 yet, and he's weary about this guy. Good instincts!

But Madison knows how to treat a toy well so that he will never go rogue!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-07-07T10:22:00.000-07:00

Madison thinks the courtyard in our apartment complex is his own personal backyard. Every morning now he likes to run laps around, stopping to sniff all of the other patio fences and lampposts. Here he is trying to hide behind one of the latter so I won't see him and call him back into our house.

Woof Wednesday...

2010-06-30T09:17:00.000-07:00

This is Madison's Everest:

Woof Wednesday...

2010-06-23T10:20:00.000-07:00

It's never too early in the morning for birthday cake!!

Date Night, Movie Night...

2010-06-20T09:22:00.000-07:00

Every summer for the past seven that I have spent in Los Angeles, I have had a very specific ritual of marking the new season. On no particular date but just when I finally feel it has been consistently warm enough to sit out on my patio at night in my pajamas, I have taken my laptop outside and watched Camp Nowhere under the stars. Camp Nowhere has always been my "go to" summer movie, but the tradition was never anything special until three years ago during my first summer with Madison.

Madison was just a baby at the time, not even six months old yet, and super shaggy because without all of his shots, I couldn't take him to the groomer. He panted heavily out on the patio during the day, under the hot valley sun, but at night he loved to lay on the cool concrete and await a stray breeze to blow his crazy, crazy hair out of his eyes. This was back when my apartment building had our old five-feet tall wooden fences that allowed for privacy, and I dragged my old air mattress out there along with my laptop. Madison and I curled up on the mattress, screening the movie as the sky darkened and the stars emerged. It was, what I deemed then, "urban camping," and after the movie was over, I pulled a thin blanket up around us and attempted to "rough it" all night outside.

Unfortunately around two a.m. I awoke with literal chills and high-tailed it inside to the safety (and relative warmth) of my own bed. Madison didn't seem to care one way or the other; as long as he had his pee pad nearby and a pillow on which to curl up, he was good to go.

Last night marked the third year Madison and I have watched the movie together, only this time we started earlier than usual and the mattress being long gone, curled up in a chair. At this point, I suspect he can quote it just as well as I can. After all, just because we kick off summer with this movie doesn't mean it's the only time we watch it!

Madison was a good sport nonetheless, as he always is. During moments when he looked a little bored, I scratched under his chin or let him crawl over my chest or distracted him with a rawhide bone-- all things which he was much more into than the kids' film. But I didn't care about any of that: he was quiet and sat with me throughout the whole thing, and that was all that mattered!

In fact, future boyfriends-- not just mine but in general-- should take note of Madison's behavior! You may not always like the movie we want to watch or the way we mark a special occasion, but if you indulge us, you will be well rewarded!

He's Got The Whole World In His Paws...

2010-06-17T15:43:00.000-07:00

Madison seems to think that our entire apartment building is just an extension of our home. If he is out on the patio, and our neighbor opens her door, he bounds through the bars effortlessly and trots right into her house. Usually to snack on Snowball's food or jump on the couch like he belongs there. I've been trying to catch it on video but so far to no avail. Besides, it's hard to yell at him for doing something bad all while I'm chuckling from behind my iPhone at his exuberant spirit.

Our neighbor across the way has been out of town, and there have been cleaners and painters coming and going from his apartment, doing work while they have the place unencumbered. Madison has been watching them, and every time he sees they leave the door open, he bounds over there to sniff around a new place. Only once was it because they were cooking burgers and he wanted to see if he could get in on the eating action. I guess he's just bored of his mama!

In fact, he'll pretty much go into anyone's apartment, unannounced and uninvited. He's not a vampire, after all! He's also not scared of strangers, which is actually kind of a problem because he's also just so adorable no one gets upset at him for being so brazen. They coo and call him cute and welcome him over anytime. And when I scoop him up to take him home and put him in a time-out, he always has a cheeky little grin on his face like 'See mama? I don't need you; I have a place to sleep no matter what part of the building I'm in!'

Madison is only three years old, but he has already gotten a taste for the larger world outside of his home. He wants to see as much of it as his little paws will let him explore before I come chasing after him. Really, I can't blame him. And I can't even feel that badly about him making his escape (which is pretty much once a day now, for one reason or another). After all, when I was just a little bit older than him, I was planning my escape, too! I just like to think that I create a nicer, more loving home for him than the one in which I was raised...

Woof Wednesday...

2010-06-16T09:33:00.000-07:00

It's a nice day for a car ride. Too bad the scenery is blocked by typical L.A. traffic.

March (Or At Least Stand) For Equality...

2010-06-14T08:33:00.000-07:00

On June 12th, in the middle of LA Pride, famed photographer Adam Bouska held an open photo shoot at the Andaz Hotel in West Hollywood. Men, women, gay straight, kids, and yes even one little pup lined up around the corner to get tattooed and taped to lend their faces to the NOH8 Campaign. It was something I have wanted to do for awhile-- especially to show support of my gay canine son-- so with the both of us having been newly groomed in the past week, it was the perfect timing!

(Photo to the right is not indicative of us on the day of the shoot. The official NOH8 photo was not yet available at "press time."

Heading out to West Hollywood with a friend, we found the line easily, as it was full of hundreds of people dressed in white tees snaked around displays of colorful balloons and swaying somewhat in front of speakers bumping Black Eyed Peas and Lady Gaga. Madison got right to work making friends-- first with the NOH8 volunteers who were handing out the temporary tattoos and photo release forms and then with those immediately around us in line, including a sixteen-month old in a stroller who Madison hid under for shade.

We inched our way closer and closer to the interior and upstairs of the hotel, where a white backdrop was set up and Bouska was working tirelessly to snap five to ten individual shots of each person who stepped in front of his camera. Madison was confused a bit, sure, as to why we took a car ride just to stand on a street corner for awhile, but he happily flopped on his side and accepted belly rubs and scratches. He even got a few amateur photos snapped of him by others in line, and he of course begged a bit for food.

I admit I was a little worried about how he would react, being couped up on a leash and then in my arms all afternoon. I hate to wait on lines, and he has taken to reflect my attitude and behavior in many other facets of life, so I figured he would in this one, too. And yes he had moments of restlessness but he never got severely frustrated; he is a better person than me.

Part of me thought that by the time we stepped in front of the backdrop, he would be fidgety, huffy, and just plain "over it," as Kelly Kiloren Bensimmon would say. I was hoping that he would get interested in the duck tape over my mouth, though, and his staring at it would make a half-way decent picture.

Of course, I worried for nothing. Madison got in front of the big lens and bright light and turned on the charm as always. He didn't squirm, he didn't pull away, and I think he even managed to smile! I don't know how the final product turned out (yet), though I kind of hope Bouska picks the one where I'm holding Madison up over my head because to me he looked happy and kind of like he was flying-- like he was free. I think that's a nice statement to make for such a campaign.

Woof Wednesday...

2010-06-09T07:52:00.000-07:00

Madison is sad that our time puppysitting Snowball has come to an end. That or he's just hot. It's so dry and sweltering in the valley the corners of my eyes have started burning. And it's only June. We may have to move...but if we do that, Madison will lose his best friend :(

Dance, Puppy, Dance!...

2010-06-02T14:40:00.001-07:00

Madison is apparently just a prop for our apartment building's amusement.

Today we were lounging on the couch watching some TV on DVDs while I was transcribing an interview. Madison had his head on the pillow and was flopped on his side like he was two inches from sleep. All of a sudden outside our patio stood a little girl whose grandmother lives in our building. She was waving and calling his name. Not my name. Very few in the building know my name, but they all know his!

He lifted his head slowly, almost begrudgingly, like "Do I have to, Mama??" I nodded and told him to go say hello. So he sighed and jumped off the couch, slowly making his way outside to sit and poke his head through the patio bars to let this little girl pet him. He is apparently the mascot of the building now. And when he came back in, he was smiling and trotting, energized by the love and affection.

Because though sometimes Madison seems put upon by the responsibility, in truth he relishes the attention. He loves sitting out there and waiting for people to come home from work or errands or wherever so they'll stop and say hello, offering a sniff or a scratch. The fact that there's Snowball and now a new puppy across the courtyard makes him jealous because it means he has to share his friends now. When people stop by to coo or fuss over the others, Madison barks and then growls and grows increasingly huffy, an entertainer past his prime, just trying to find a way back into the spotlight.

Madison is like the starlets we see in Hollywood: they get built up by positive reinforcement over their "ingenue" roles. And once they are a little bit older and have been around for a little while, the praise drops off. But they, like Madison, have come to expect it; they thrive on it, and when they don't get it, they mope around and tend toward somewhat self-destructive behavior.

Madison can only hear me tell him he's a good and smart boy so many times before it doesn't mean much anymore, and I hit the quota a long time ago. So now he looks to the others in our little community to feed his habit. Though he curled back up on the pillow to sleep when that little girl went into her grandmother's apartment, you could just tell his day was as made as hers was by the brief moment they shared.

Vote for ME!...

2010-06-02T08:55:00.001-07:00

A message from Madison:

"No, I'm not running in California's elections next week, though with all of these dumb ass commercials telling you that liberalism is wrong, I feel like I should be. There is nothing wrong with having choices! Some of my favorite parts of my day are choosing what toy to play with or choosing what cookie I want when Mama is going out or even choosing to lay on the pillow or the couch or the patio rug...

But anyway, my Mama submitted one of my baby pictures for a contest. I need your vote to win! I'm not really sure what I'll win (hopefully money but at least bragging rights). I know I'm the cutest dog ever; my mama tells me so every day-- usually a couple of times a day. So of course she voted, but you can only do so once, and everyone else that says I'm cute now needs to step up and prove it!

Mama says all you have to do is click on the paws to rate the photo. It's way easier than voting in that stupid California election. You're on your computers all day at work anyway, and if you're one of those with a more fun job, then you can use your phone to participate, too. No need to stand in a long line at some random school or whatever. And no, you won't get an "I voted" sticker. But you will get lots of hugs and kisses from me the next time you see me!

Mama says she used to be more political than she is now. She used to volunteer for campaigns and stuff. But now she devotes all of her time to me. So please help make her hard work pay off! Go now and vote!!"

Woof Wednesday...

2010-06-02T08:23:00.001-07:00

Remember on Friends when Chandler realized he loved bubble baths? I think Madison may have had that moment-- finally, after running away from the tub for years.

"I've had a long, hard day."

Love Is A Battlefield...

2010-05-28T12:20:00.000-07:00

The only injuries I've ever heard of from rough sex usually include some sort of contraption-- like a swing or non-fuzzy handcuffs. But apparently even just a slight struggle-- a pull when someone else is trying to push-- can do it.

TMI? Maybe, but I'm not talking about me here but Madison. See, we've been puppysitting Snowball while his mama is visiting family over this holiday weekend. He isn't sleeping over since I don't think Madison would stand for that, but we hang out during the day; I walk him when he needs it; and I attempt to get him to eat or learn things like stay and shake.

Yesterday he really went at it with Madison, but Madison was holding his own, so I didn't intervene. Obviously, I should have. As they ran around, and rolled around, at one point, Snowball kept trying to wrap his tiny little paws around Madison's waist and pull him back toward him. Madison, squirmy as ever, kept pulling away and trying to wiggle out of his grip. At one point, they both slammed into my sliding glass door. But they both were up within a second and chasing each other again, so I didn't think anything of it.

But this morning when we awoke, Madison wouldn't jump off the bed. He didn't seem like he could force his hind legs out from under him. Maybe they were just stiff from sleeping too long (last night he was so exhausted from his very big day that he curled up under a blanket on the couch and did not move until I picked him up to carry him to bed). I feared the worst, though, as I'm prone to do. My friend's dog had a stroke about a year ago that left him without the use of his legs and without control of his bowels for a few days and without the use of his front paw permanently. When I saw Madison unable-- or unwilling-- to straighten his back legs and how they were trembling slightly, I freaked.

Naturally, I ran him to the vet, where once he stopped giving me sad eyes in the car, he walked around the parking lot looking for food scraps or pee stains or other people to play with. He had refused to jump in or out of the car, though, so something was still clearly wrong, even if it wasn't as serious as I had assumed.

The vet examined him and took some X-rays more for my peace of mind than anything else. He said it looked like he had pulled a muscle in his lower back, which was causing inflammation and explaining the stiffness. Madison would have to be put on antibiotics through the weekend to help with the soreness, and he shouldn't exert himself physically. Ha! Like that's ever a concern with him! The vet also said he probably shouldn't hang out with Snowball anymore :(

Personally, I think Madison milked his injury a little bit more because he enjoys going to the vet. And last week when we went for his yearly shots, he didn't get to see the doctor-- only the vet tech. Maybe he felt he missed out and wanted to go back. Maybe he just wanted ice cream again and thought the only way he'd get any was to be injured and have me feel bad for him. Maybe he was just sore the way I am after I work out a part of my body that usually stays stationary, and he didn't know how to handle it. All I know is he's a good boy and a healthy boy, and that's all that matters to me!

Madison made friends at the vet, as he always does. A new vet tech was especially taken with him. They bonded during the X-ray photo session. Apparently Madison likes any picture of him being taken, even internal ones. He wagged his tail for the first time all day in the dark room with the vet tech, so at least I knew he didn't have partial paralyzation or a herniated disc (like I diagnosed after I Googled-- two things a pet owner should never do!). The vet tech kept marveling over what a good little dog I had (I can't disagree!) and later asked for my number. I have a feel the two are not mutually exclusive. I was dressed in cupcake pajama bottoms and my oversized "Music is my life" tee from the "Glee: Live in Concert" tour and smelling like two distinct dogs. He most certainly just wanted me to get to my dog!

I take better care of Madison than I do myself. I twisted my knee stepping off a curb (this is why no one walks in LA!) days ago and haven't done anything about it, but a few hours of Madison seeming not like himself, and I run him to the doctor! But he is my little boy and the only real family I have. I had to make sure he was okay.

Woof Wednesday...

2010-05-26T09:19:00.000-07:00

I put a yoga mat out half as a little "purple carpet" on which Madison could feel free to strut but also half as inspiration to get me back on the Wii Fit. But Madison is truly my dog and knows just what it's really good for!

Dear Diary...

2010-05-25T17:52:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

You know, for all of the time my mama spends on our couch or on our new patio chairs, staring at and typing on her computer, she certainly doesn't update this site enough! So I have commandeered it back for a little bit to talk to all of my fans...

The past few months have been kind of nutso with a new doggy moving into the building and me seeing some other dogs at the other end of the building for the first time. Mama says they've been here awhile, but I don't remember them. And I certainly don't know them! But back to the baby: her name is Charlie-- a girl with a boy's name, really?? She's part Shih Tzu like me and part something else that's not as cute as me. She lives across from Snowball's apartment, and she has found her bark a lot earlier than I did. She's okay, though the first time I saw her I didn't know she was a real, live puppy; she was tiny!

Mama keeps asking if I want a little sister just like Charlie. The answer is a big fat N-O. I will not share my snacks. I will not share my toys. I will not share my bed...as it is Mama takes up way too much room in there!

Oh and speaking of Snowball, he comes over and actually plays for a few minutes now before trying to hump me...so I guess that's progress. Though sometimes he comes over on his own. He has figured out how to climb up his little fence and jump through the bars on the bigger fence and on my fence and come join me on my patio. He gets in trouble but doesn't seem to mind.

I have been in two of my mama's on camera interviews, and I think I will be in many more to come. Assuming she can get more celebrities to agree to come hang out at our little sweatbox in the valley and play a game on the TV. I hope she can; I like the attention, and I keep hoping they'll put down the remotes and pick up my soccer ball instead. Then I can play, too!

Mama talks about us moving every now and then, but I can't really tell if she's serious. She mostly talked about it two weeks ago, while glued to some show about an island. She kept looking at me and asking if I would be able to hunt and gather and fish for her if we lived in such a place. I don't know any of those words.

I recently started a Twitter site in an attempt to brand myself this year. I don't really know those words either, but my mama has been talking a lot about them lately. If it means stamping me with a cool inked image like she has on her wrist or back of neck or ankle, then I'm down! If it means packaging to make money, then that's even better because we need to keep cookies on the table!

So since mama still isn't working consistently (and she likes cuddling with me too much to really be looking too hard), I guess I can make myself available for print work or day player gigs in commercials or sitcoms. I hear Life Unexpected got a second season, so maybe Ryan will buy Cate a puppy as a wedding present. I would be willing to suffer in the cold and rain of Vancouver for my art! Plus it would mean I could see Kris and Austin again, and I really liked those guys!

Love,

Madison

Woof Wednesday...

2010-05-19T10:33:00.000-07:00

Madison sits funny...

Woof Wednesday...

2010-05-12T10:58:00.000-07:00

Madison keeps a watchful eye over the courtyard. I hope come Christmas time the neighbors give him a nice tip for being such a good security guard!

...but secretly, I think he's just looking for his little

puppy friend. Or someone who may come along

and feed him!

Happy Mother's Day From My Favorite Little Guy!...

2010-05-09T09:22:00.000-07:00

This is my first Mother's Day without my mom. I almost forgot about the holiday, except I called a friend to see if I could pick something up from her today, and she said she would be hanging out with her mom all day. She said it in a tone that implied I should have assumed as much; everyone who has someone to celebrate with would assume as much. But it's amazing the things you forget when you are the mom. After all, it's no longer my job to remember to buy a card or place a phone call; now it's Madison's!

When I was cleaning out my mother's headboard over the summer, I stumbled upon a stack of all of those said cards. There were ones from before I could write when I just scribbled in Crayola, often across the pre-printed Hallmark niceties; there were ones from when I was just learning words; there were ones from times when I must have been mad at my mother for something and opted to call her by her first name; there were even ones I had made completely from scratch on some old computer program I had growing up, putting together clip-art and some uninspired poems. There were even ones that the school had clearly given us templates for, asking us to list the reasons we loved our mothers. Mine usually said things like "She spoils me" or "She takes me shopping and buys me lots of things." Inside some of the cards I found coupons for an ice cream sundae or a necklace of her choosing from a local clothing store that we both frequented once I was old enough to actually fit in their styles. All were promises that ultimately went unanswered; she always said the card was enough and she didn't want me to waste my money.

All I wanted from Madison today was for him to cuddle with me this morning. That's usually all I want from him on most days, but I thought I especially deserved it today! I know he can't make me breakfast in bed or anything-- though last night he did track in so many leaves and flower petals from our patio that it could have constituted a makeshift bouquet, however unintentional!-- and I always make Sunday morning pancakes that I share with him, so I wanted something special...

Usually I'll begin to stir, and as I'm a stomach sleeper, I'll shift to my side and splay out my right arm. He'll come flop down in the crook, and I'll curl my arm around him. Then we'll doze back to sleep for about ten more minutes. It's literally my favorite time of day.

And just like how my mom was always satisfied with whatever non-thing I gave her when I was a little kid, Madison did not disappoint either!

...Then again, after he was being all sweet he ended up eating his morning poop when I didn't pick it up fast enough because I, too, was in the bathroom. I guess no child is perfect after all; it is simply out projection of what we think and wish them to be that makes them perfect in our eyes. But aside from the whole occasional poop-eating thing, Madison is pretty damn close!

You Can't Stop Their Love...

2010-05-09T08:08:00.000-07:00

Poor little Snowball from next door is just so infatuated with Madison. Don't get me wrong, Madison loves him right back, just not entirely in the same way.

Every morning, Madison sits by the patio door whimpering until I let him out. He has done this for years, but only recently has it become an incessant check to see if his buddy is outside, too. And if he is, Madison storms back in the house and dances in circles in front of me until I pick him up and walk out the front door with him, heading over to sit in front of Snowball's patio for a few good morning kisses.

Snowball gets so excited when he sees Madison that he barks and jumps up and down whether Madison is two inches in front of him or a few feet away, separated by two sets of bars and the watchful eyes of their mamas.

When allowed, Snowball still loves to come over and say hi directly. He has even gotten to the point where he can contain himself for a good five or ten minutes before he attempts to hump Madison again. And Madison, for what it's worth, has become more assertive in their relationship. He whips his head around and growls right in Snowball's face until he backs off. Madison is the only one Snowball will listen to when told 'No humping.' He whimpers like he has been rejected and tries again in a few seconds, but when Madison is firm with him, he gets the hint. When I am firm with him, he doesn't make eye-contact and instead just bee-lines back over to his boyfriend.

For the record, I have no problem with gay love. I just have a problem with my dog-- who seems to only want a platonic relationship-- being violated.

And apparently those aforementioned bars no longer even stop Snowball. He is determined. And he's also a smart, crafty little guy. Yesterday afternoon I watched him climb up his "safety" gate and attempt to jump over it, probably so he could escape his patio and come over to Madison, who was sitting with his head poking through the bars, looking like a pathetic little prisoner. I laughed as I snapped a few photos. About an hour later, I was lounging on my couch eating dinner, and Madison was sitting on the inside of the screen door. Snowball burst through our patio bars and almost slammed into the other side of the screen, staring longingly. He had finally managed to escape successfully, and I was just bummed I missed that moment!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-05-05T10:29:00.000-07:00

Madison enjoying the new patio chairs. Yes, I said chairs, plural. I got one for him and one for me. I say it's because this set in particular only came in pairs, but really I could have picked a different style. Madison is just spoiled!

Madison the Intern...

2010-05-04T14:03:00.000-07:00

The Ghostfacers web series on TheCW's official website is coming to a quick end next week-- at least the first season is, any way. The guys got their start on Supernatural, where "team leaders" Ed and Harry (played by AJ Buckley and Travis Wester) first encountered the infamous Winchester Brothers on a local prank-turned-legit-haunting and got a taste of fame. They shot a pilot, but the Winchesters outsmarted them by demagnetizing their footage before the world could learn the truth. Said Dean: "The world just isn't ready." But that was a few years ago.

Now the Ghostfacers are back in action, this time for the small screen-- the web. And their new intern, a somewhat ditzy but pretty girl named Ambyr (yes, ironically, and yes with a Y) has found herself in trouble. How bad is it? Well, her fate won't be as grim as their original intern's but it is doubtful she'd be up for running toward any other vengeful spirits any time soon! So I am here to propose a new candidate for the job: Madison!

Madison has been my intern and executive assistant for three years now, and he always does a killer job-- from giving me kisses when I feel like my work isn't good enough, to bringing me a toy when I need to take a break, to pawing at the keyboard and attempting to contribute to pieces himself.

For the Ghostfacers, Madison would do just as exemplary a job. He can look like any old family dog or team mascot to an outsider, but those in the know understand an animal's intuition. They can sense when things are wrong; they can sense spirits and presences that can only been felt and not seen. Madison would be a great asset to the Facers because everyone would underestimate his cute, furry little face.

Besides, the "comedy of errors" scene where the guys go to get a guard dog and instead come home with a tiny little furball pretty much writes itself!

Madison for 'Modern Family'...

2010-04-29T09:37:00.000-07:00

Last night on Modern Family, Phil's dad (guest star Fred Willard) returned for a surprise visit, showing up in the Dunphys' yard with an RV...and a puppy. Once I got over the "aww" factor, I was seeing red. After all, I've been advocating for that show to get a dog in it's cast for months now-- MONTHS! Of course, I am biased: I didn't just want any old dog on the show: I wanted it to be my dog!!

Now, for those of you who saw it, you know that the dog in question goes back home with Willard's character at the end of the episode. This leaves Claire (Julie Bowen) feeling sad and empty, as she grew quite attached to the little fur-ball while fighting him for her underwear (don't ask; just watch the episode!). And it leaves me with the perfect opportunity to swoop right in there with my own little fur-ball!

This officially kicks off my campaign to get Madison on Modern Family! I will be Tweeting the cast and creators of the show, who I know are hard at work already preparing arcs for season two, in order to seed the thought in their heads now that they should write in a story about a cute little Shih Tzu who likes nothing more than to curl up on a pillow and eat cookies. I will also post blogs about the progress here. I will even consider making a Facebook group or some kind of online petition for the cause. Keep your fingers crossed for us and feel free to forward this link to your friends and any "powers that be" that you may know at Modern Family or ABC in general. I'm determined to make great things happen for my little guy!!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-04-28T09:52:00.000-07:00

Madison loves to make himself super small and curl up on his old pillow at night while we're watching TV. Which is a good thing because it means I can stretch out on the couch; he doesn't take up much room! But he also likes to stare at me, as if he's willing me to turn off the TV and take him to bed early. He's a bit pathetic. But still very cute.

Excuses, Excuses...

2010-04-28T09:20:00.001-07:00

So I haven't written in awhile, but that doesn't mean I haven't been hard at work! In fact, maybe the reason I haven't written in awhile is because I've been harder at work creating all these awesome videos for you!

Apologies on that last one; apparently the iPhone can't sense the proper formatting when held at a slight angle!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-04-21T09:34:00.000-07:00

Apparently my dog is a tree-hugger...

Is Madison A Diva Or Just 'Over' It?...

2010-04-14T11:09:00.001-07:00

In helping out a friend with a web series, I have spent the last few days leaving the house around the time Madison and I would normally be waking up, and in doing so, I've left a very sleepy-eyed boy behind. On some mornings he has been so tired, he hasn't even crawled out of bed when the alarm resounded, and I ended up grabbing my laptop and closing the front door behind me before he even realized he should probably take his morning pee. Needless to say I've felt very guilty, even though, Madison-- bless his heart-- has been really good about the whole thing. When I come home, he jumps all over me, happy to see me, and he hasn't even been dragging his pee pad to new corners of the living room. But today I decided I didn't want to leave him home alone again. I contemplated seeing if he could have a play date over at Snowball's but without me being there to supervise and attempt to put a stop to the constant attempted humping (on Snowball's part), I thought Madison would be more upset than if I had just left him home alone again after all. So I opted to bring him with me to the practical loft location in North Hollywood at which the web series is being shot.

Being on a set of any kind entails a lot of "hurry up and wait" for lights to get set, actors to get dressed and touched up, and the director to get everything he wants in one take. It's the kind of environment in which even the most mild-mannered people can start to get antsy.

When we first arrived, Madison was just happy to be there; there were tons of new people for him to run over to and look cute enough that they'd want to bend down and pet him, and the breakfast was just being set up in Craft Services, so he could smell all the yummy food. He rushed around eagerly, wagging his tail. But about three hours in, once the cameras were finally rolling, and he and I were sitting side by side on a couch-- exactly how we do at our own apartment, I must point out-- he started to get bored. At first he just restlessly paced from one end of the couch to the other, climbing over me in the process and plopping down at each end with an exaggerated sigh. But then he started to whimper slowly and quietly. I told him, half-jokingly, that he had to be good or I would take him home. When his ears perked up at the word "home," and he turned to me with pleading eyes, I knew we had a problem.

When I first got Madison, I was still working in production pretty regularly. He got used to being home alone for long hours while I was on set all day, and he even, on occasion, came with me. But the last set I worked on was about two years ago, and since then we have settled into a much more comfortable schedule and routine. His behavior on set today just kind of matched how I was feeling the last few days. I just couldn't quite put my finger on just why I was feeling so "off" until I saw it reflected in his eyes.

The wild and wacky world of production is a crazy rollercoaster ride of unconventional hours, weird tasks, and a lot of time for one's mind to wander. Madison's seemed to wander in the direction of "I wish I knew what my friends in the courtyard were doing," as he loves to sit in by the sliding glass door that leads to our patio and just watch the maintenance guys carry equipment from apartment to apartment or look for his little doggy friends heading out for their daily walks. Mine started to wander in the vein of "I wonder if Madison's doing okay" on the days when he was at home. Today I started to worry that he was even more unhappy here, where he wanted to be apart of the action but had to be tethered to me at all times so he wouldn't get underfoot. My mind also started to wander towards other things-- such as what articles I should be working on and what questions I wanted to prep for upcoming interviews.

As much as I moved out to Los Angeles to work in production-- and as much as I still only half-joke that I want to put my dog on the big screen-- today has somewhat solidified that truly, neither of our hearts are in it. And I'm not going to force either one of us to do anything.

Woof Wednesday...

2010-04-14T10:17:00.000-07:00

I promise I'll write something real here again soon but for now:

A blast from the past today: Madison when he was only about ten weeks old and only about two days into living with me. Look at how little he was! And how new and clean his toy was!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-04-07T09:08:00.000-07:00

The new groomer thought Madison was a girl. Personally I don't see how since she did have to shave him "down there." Whatever. Personally, I think he would make the perfect contestant on season three of Ru Paul's Drag Race!

Such a pretty face!

Madison Made A New Friend...

2010-04-02T08:52:00.000-07:00

I was conducting an interview in my apartment earlier this week-- I know, I know; it sounds weird, but the nature of it leant itself very well to the "theme" of it-- you'll see soon! Everyone is aware that a little dog named Madison runs my households, so of course he had to greet my guest at the door and sniff him out (quite literally, too) to make sure he was worthy and welcome to enter. Luckily for me, though, the actor who came over was one of the most down-to-Earth guys working in Hollywood...or else he may have gotten a little jealous that Madison tried to steal his camera time, too!

After all, Madison planted himself on the couch between the two of us for a section of the interview. But I think more than trying to usurp the spotlight, Madison was just trying to get close to the guy. I've shared my theories about Madison's crushes on traditional tall, dark, and handsome men (famous or otherwise), and this one definitely fit the bill!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-03-31T09:10:00.000-07:00

Everyone says dogs inherently know how to swim. I've never wanted to test the theory. Madison, on the other hand, looks eager to jump right into the deep end!

I Will Bribe You To Love Me Again...

2010-03-30T09:03:00.000-07:00

Today is my three year anniversary with Madison. Three years ago today I fell in love. And how did I repay my guy this past weekend? I left him home alone for about twelve hours a day for three days in a row while I worked an event. Cue the frowny face emoticon.

I worked pretty hard over the weekend-- especially considering I wasn't being paid a full-time wage for doing all I did. I multi-tasked like crazy, and even after I got home from the day's events, I still had to spend about two hours each night to transcribe interviews and write up articles, as well as upload and crop photos. Madison pretty much sensed my somewhat anxious mood when I came home and very calmly, patiently, and angelically just curled up on the couch next to me and let me do what I needed to do.

But he didn't cuddle with me at night. He gave me a time-out probably just as he thought that's what I was doing to him during the day.

The first night, I forgot to leave the light on for him when I went out, and I came home to find my poor sleepy boy in the dark. The next night I found his pee pad ripped to shreds. Rightly so, I guess, he regressed and acted out. I couldn't even yell at him for it because I felt so bad. It's a big jump to go from home with him at least 20/7 to that. Thankfully on Sunday I had a somewhat shorter day, and he was still happy to see me. He puts up with so much, but I think he knew I would make it up to him!

And that I will! Today we are heading out to Malibu for a walk. Match.com has these new commercials that talk about the "long walk on the beach being a cliche-- unless you do it with someone you really, really like." But I'd add-- dare I say it?-- love. I'm twenty-five years old, and I've never told a boyfriend I love him. Needless to say, I have many an intimacy issue. Some stem from the relationships in my family, and others from the relationship on television, that I saw growing up. Hell, I wrote a whole book about it!

But I'm working through them all in my own, admittedly slow, way. And honestly, loving Madison requires patience-- patience I find I end up learning by his example. He may be a rare breed of super laid back, mellow dog, but it's exactly what I need. Hmm, maybe opposites really do attract...

But I digress. I need some quality boy time, and I know he needs to get out of the house to know he was not being punished for anything last weekend. Keeping him cooped up at home was not because of anything he did, and if I had my way, I would have brought him to the hotel with me. Unfortunately the hotel didn't allow pets. But believe me, I asked!

When we come home, he will also get a very special treat-- one that he hasn't had since before last summer-- a McDonald's ice cream cone. But Ssshhh don't tell him; I want it to be an anniversary surprise!

Bad Influences...

2010-03-24T11:35:00.000-07:00

When we got our new "open design" patio fences, Madison realized pretty quickly that he was small enough to wiggle through and run wild in the courtyard. He has the habit of running at full speed any time someone tries to chase him, too, because he thinks it's a game of "catch me" rather than a fear for his safety that sends me running. So when he was a baby I would stand outside by the front door, keeping an eye out to make sure no one else opened their front doors or he'd barrel in their apartments, and let him run laps until he got so tired he just came on home for water and a nap on the couch. Still, though, I was able to break him of that habit very quickly with a firm "no" every time I saw him start to do it. I would even sit outside the patio and try to entice him to come out, much the way kidnappers might try to lure a child, I guess, and instill that firm "no" again. Not nearly as slowly as I assumed it would take, I began to trust him enough to allow him to stay out there by himself.

When we returned from New York, Madison started jumping through the bars again. I think he was just stressed and no longer quite sure where his home was. It only lasted a couple of days this time, and then he was back to normal. I've always said that if dogs consistently run away from home, it must be indicative of a somewhat poor home situation. *Ahem, Jesse James. Cinnabun misses his mama!! Now, I'm beginning to rethink that a bit, though, because Madison has the most love in the world here in our little abode, and he has started escaping yet again.

Whenever Snowball comes over, he does so by leaping effortlessly through my fence bars and chasing Madison around his own patio. He is a skinny little thing and makes it look so easy that it has dawned on Madison once again that he can do the same. So now when I'm not paying attention-- when I'm busy writing on the couch, for example-- and Madison sees Snowball gated in on his own patio, he has taken to jumping out into the courtyard and running over to him. The problem is that though he knows how to get out, he doesn't quite know how to return the same way. And the minute I open the front door to let him back in, he assumes (and perhaps rightly so) that he's in trouble for escaping in the first place and doesn't want to come back right away.

Everyone in the building knows where Madison lives and to whom he belongs and would return him to me should he get loose. But I want him to be well-behaved he never actually gets loose! I like being able to trust him to leave him out there independently, and admittedly I really like when people walk by and comment on how good he is for sitting and keeping watch over the building. So we're going to have to go back to square one with his outside training. And while I'm at it, I'm going to try to impart the same wisdom on Snowball so that when they talk to each other, they both have the same set of rules and can't really act as the devil on the other's shoulder!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-03-24T08:07:00.000-07:00

Madison sits on the taller chair out on the patio when Snowball comes over because Snowball hasn't quite figured out how to jump that high yet. Every now and then, though, Snowball gets too close for Madison's comfort.

It's a very thin line...

Passed Out Puppy...

2010-03-22T10:40:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I attended a charity event in Culver City aimed at raising money and awareness for one of the very many animal rescues out here. Through a day of fun, games, food, a movie, and silent auction, Thumping Tails educated the public (young and old) about animals rights, abuse, abandonment, and adoption. Unfortunately, though, due to permit liability, animals were not actually welcome at the event. So Madison had to stay home :(

In retrospect, though, it's probably better that he didn't come. Though he's really good on a leash, he had a really big week, and I think the festivities of Saturday proved to be just a bit too much for him. He likes his visitors in smaller doses!

Manners & Mannerisms...

2010-03-20T19:31:00.001-07:00

There is an episode of Sex & the City where the girls are at lunch (shocking, I know) and an unruly child is at a table behind them. Samantha goes on and on about how annoying the child is and how he shouldn't even be allowed to be in such a place. They all kind of expect Miranda to say something about that, because at this point she has already had Brady, but she very wisely astutes that she doesn't "even like any child other than [her] own." I think I finally understand what she means.

There are these two adorable little brothers who live part time in my apartment building with their grandmother. They are, like, five and seven years old now...I think...I'm not very good with guessing kids' ages. My godson is turning thirteen this year, but if I just saw a picture of him I'd assume he was at least fifteen. It's hard to tell; they grow up so fast nowadays! Anyway, these little boys have been coming by to play with Madison ever since I first got him. They'll sit on the floor of the courtyard and stick their little arms through the patio bars to pet him and sometimes even stick their faces as close as they can muster so Mad can give them kisses. They're sweet, smart kids, with super high energy, but unfortunately they're not very well disciplined.

The last few nights these kids have been running up and down the courtyard shooting Nerf guns at each other. I didn't realize the "bullets" were really just foam arrows, so I was keeping Mad corralled in our apartment so he wouldn't get shot with a stray. After all, I was no stranger to cap or pellet guns as a kid, and I know they can sting, even if not shot at close range. I didn't think the kids would point at my dog, but I didn't think they had the best aim, either.

Today Madison and I were enjoying a warm, summer-like late afternoon on the patio when they came thudding up again with their guns. They dropped them to turn their attention to Madison...and Snowball, who was sitting sadly alone on his own patio. Long story short, I felt bad that Snowball wasn't getting attention, so I brought him over to play with Madison. This led to the boys coming in to play, as well. The intention was to keep everyone outside, but that became increasingly harder to do with five bodies (1 adult, 2 squirrelly kids, 2 fast canines) in just a six by ten space.

Moving inside, though, proved to be more problematic, as one of the little boys kept shooting his Nerf arrows out through my patio door. He'd chase after them, and he'd leave my front door wide open in doing so, which gave Madison the escape he wanted to find from Snowball, who kept trying to hump him. So Madison would be running around the courtyard like a nut, and I'd have to worry about Snowball following him. I finally got being a mama to one dog under control but throw in a puppy and two little kids, and I need a big, fat nap!

The kicker came when I put Madison in his 'time out' space (the corner of our bedroom) after the third time he ran out the front door and wouldn't come straight home when I called him. It wasn't entirely his fault, since the door had been left wide open, but I was trying to teach him that he has to listen to me, so I punished him nonetheless. But I didn't realize that one of the little boys (fittingly the one who left the door open) in all his young, curious wisdom had at some point played with the doorknob on my bedroom door and turned the lock. So when I dropped Madison in time out and shut the door in front of him, I effectively locked him in our bedroom.

It wasn't as bad as it felt. My apartment manager (and Snowball's mom) was home and had a small screwdriver that we used to take the doorknob off. I noticed soon enough that Madison wasn't stuck in the room any longer than he would be during a normal time out. Except this time, when I finally opened the door, I was the one to apologize to him. And I gave him half a hamburger to make up for what he didn't even notice had happened.

In the time the kids were over, they climbed on all of my furniture, poked at all of my picture frames and desk decorations, and threw all of Madison's toys and couch pillows across the room multiple times. All normal kids' stuff, really, but it was somewhat surprising how comfortable they felt in a stranger's home. Maybe it was just me, but when I would visit a friend's house, especially for the first time, I'd sit on the couch or on a kitchen chair and take everything in visually to get a feel for the "vibe" of the home before I began asserting myself. But maybe my vibe is just the very open fact that I love kids and want some of my own, so they figured they couldn't do much to actually piss me off. But locking my dog in a room, even unintentionally, and then not apologizing for it? That's not cool, kids!!

I have no real reason to believe any adoption agency will ever approve me, but I can tell you this right now: if and when one does, the first thing I will teach my children is to be respectful in their own home but also-- and maybe even more importantly-- in others.' And if the friends my kids (even Madison!) bring around don't live up to my standards, they will not be invited back. Snowball may have gotten so excited he accidentally peed on me a little one time he was over, but even he is mindful and doesn't just grab one of the very many toys that litter the living room floor, knowing they're Madison's, and take off running!

MY Puppy Playdate...

2010-03-18T14:15:00.000-07:00

After a particularly exhausting day yesterday that had my pup passing out at six p.m. and sleeping soundly through the night, I decided to see how long I could keep that streak going. Because quite frankly I can get a lot of work done while sitting on my couch watching primetime if I don't have an adorable little face looking up at me for scratches, bits of my dinner, and games of soccer. So today Madison and I headed out alone and together to the beach, a place I am almost ashamed to admit we have not been in a long, long time. As someone who prides herself on being a beach bum-- a woman who would happily live in a tent on the sands of Malibu because she can't afford a real beach house there-- this was unacceptable. But the weather has just been so unpredictable: cold and windy one day, raining the next, etc. This week we are finally back in the eighties (weather-wise...though I went shopping over the weekend and the Topanga Canyon mall was showing some curious fashions, as well!), which means seventies and sunny on the coast, so even with his crazy long hair, I figured it wouldn't be too hot for Mad to take his usual beach walk.

Of course the two-- or two and a half-- mile walk or whatever it is along Zuma took no time at all, and we spent the majority of the afternoon hiding under the chair (Mad) and dozing in and out of sleep (me). We played with the little rubber ball Madison stole from a boy in the park one day, with him flinging sand every which way directed at my face, and we even shared a peanut butter sandwich.

Sadly the fun came to a quick end when we arrived home to see that the street leading to our parking garage was being repaved, and with slightly burned feet from the new tar, had to get in the tub. Madison is no fan of baths in general and even less so when it cuts his fun day of hanging outside short!

Now all I have to figure out is what I can plan for tomorrow! Hopefully I can schedule a nap time into Madison and Danielle's Day of Fun.

Puppy Playdate!

2010-03-17T13:34:00.000-07:00

When Madison was about a year old, he met another little Shih Tzu a few months his junior who could have been his baby brother. They had the same tri-coloring and the same sweet and submissive personalities...or so I thought. Madison rolled on his side, but the other little puppy did not follow suit but instead quickly mounted him and began to hump his thigh. Madison let him. It was fate, I thought; I always wanted a gay son, and now it seemed I had one-- even if just in canine form.

Before you think I'm weird for my preference, let me explain: see I already went through the seventh grade girl syndrome once when I was one and have absolutely no desire to experience it again with daughters. But I'd still like someone who may appreciate shopping trips to Bloomingdale's, accompanying me to Mariah Carey concerts, and even little dogs. And though a gay son will still have girls as friends, they won't have girlfriends, so the chance of me having to deal with that catty, petty bullshit drama is less.

Today Madison had a playdate with our little neighbor dog Snowball. Actually, had is the wrong form of the verb since as I type this, Snowball is sitting on our couch, staring at Madison up in his loft, wondering why they can't just be friends. But alas the union still is not one match-made by heaven-- even though they have been hanging out together since late morning, first on the patio, then with cookies and bacon, and now watching Melrose Place. Snowball appears to be going through puberty and has quite a few times tried to mount Madison. And Madison is just not having it. He runs away; he growls in Snowball's face; he hides under chairs and on top of them. But apparently to Snowball, no just doesn't mean no. He is resilient and keeps trying, his little face all smiles and optimism. He has a better attitude about rejection than any and all of the guys I know!

Even though Madison won't allow the humping this time around, though, I'm still convinced he is gay. He has allowed Snowball to sniff and lick his "private area" more time than once. Maybe he has just decided that he's more of a top...or, like his Mama, he just doesn't give it up on the first date!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-03-17T10:10:00.000-07:00

Madison's first Sprinkles! A cupcake made special, just for him, and he knew it as soon as I pulled out the bag!

It's A Dog's Life...

2010-03-12T09:03:00.000-08:00

I think I have finally embraced my unemployment. I admit I was in denial for a little while, calling all of the writing I have been doing a "part time job." Which it kind of is because it takes up a bunch of hours a day between screening episodes of shows, conducting interviews with actors and writers, and then actually writing the articles. Not to mention writing the two new scripts I have drafted... But calling it a "job" implies I am earning at least a living wage, doesn't it? I am barely having my expenses covered!

I have come to the somewhat sad realization that my life has turned into the life of my little pup. I know they say that people begin to look like their pets through time, but I never expected the resemblance to transfer over into complete lifestyle, as well! When I was in fourth grade, I wrote a Freaky Friday type story about a young girl who woke up one morning to find she had switched places with her dog. For the first day, she was super excited to just get to lounge around the apartment and watch TV (I didn't tell the dog's side of the story, though I think that might have been more interesting, since she would have had to try to suffer through school and struggle with opposable thumbs!). Very quickly, though, she got bored and was determined to switch back. I, on the other hand, have sat around the house for months and am just now starting to think maybe I need to kick start something a bit more lucrative!

Madison and I have developed quite a specific routine these days. We wake up around eight a.m., and I take him next door to say good morning to Snowball-- which he is beginning to get used to but still does not love. He is a bit like the old man in Dennis the Menace: he secretly likes Dennis but he refuses to show it, and on the outside he's a bit curmudgeonly. We watch the morning news (Good Day LA) and any television I may have missed from the night before that can be found online while lounging on the couch. I also scour the morning press releases for news I may want to write about or for interviews I need to schedule for later...from the couch.

Then some mornings we head back into the bedroom around ten to take part in conference calls or one on one phone interviews (oddly I have the best cell phone reception in my apartment on the edge of my bed, so I set up a mini-mobile office there). Madison always curls up in my lap, blocking my computer to let it know who's boss, and waits patiently while I ask my questions to disembodied voices. Every one in awhile he looks like he wants to pop up and say something, but I can't tell if he wants to ask the questions or be the one getting asked. He's a little attention hog!!

On days when the weather is dry and we have no calls, I take him to the park by our house. It is not yet warm enough to sit and tan on the beach-- though now that the weather is heading that way, my unemployment denial might rear its head again so I can consider myself simply on a "staycation"-- a term which I honestly never thought I'd want to use! We come home, have lunch, and I sit back down on the couch to write up my articles while watching the barrage of televised courtroom dramas.

Our day usually ends around three p.m., and as if I was coming home from an office job or classroom, I spend the late afternoon/early evening sitting on the couch with my dog, playing with his toys, checking Facebook, and watching TV. Oh, okay, and I send out resumes from time to time within there, too, but there really isn't much out there these days! My productivity is not all that questionable-- I'm ridiculously good at keeping myself busy-- but the lucrativeness of it certainly is. I think it all stems from the fact that if I was a multi-millionaire and could do anything because the money wasn't an issue, this would be it: I'd write and hang out with my dog. I'd still want to sell my writing, but it wouldn't be such a big deal if I never could because I'd be doing something that made me happy. But I'm not a multi-millionaire. And so I am stuck in a vicious cycle. And we're usually exhausted by about ten p.m., with Madison passed out on the pillow, and me stretched next to him in my pjs and bathrobe. There is no good reason for any sort of physical exhaustion, but the emotional and mental work that is involved in being unemployed is extremely taxing.

Madison seems to have settled into this routine quite comfortably. He never seems that bored, and the few times he wants to play when I'm in the middle of writing, he'll sit over a toy and stare at me for a few minutes before just figuring out that he has to amuse himself for a little while. I, on the other hand, am running out of ways to amuse myself! There are only so many movies I can watch over and over, and there are only so many books that I haven't yet read (okay, there are a lot that I haven't yet read but not a lot I can justify buying with my zero salary). I think I would greatly benefit from taking one day to just follow Madison around and do exactly as he does and see if there is some sort of catharsis or meditation involved in just being so mellow, so go-with-the-flow, so relaxed...because Lord knows, if I don't get a "real" job soon, my bank account is going to be enough of a reason to have a nervous breakdown!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-03-10T10:09:00.000-08:00

My little prisoner...

We Walk...We Walk To Save A Life...

2010-03-08T08:38:00.000-08:00

They say charity starts at home, and my personal experience has proven to be the rule and not the exception. I grew up watching my mother work sixty hour weeks at a major cosmetics corporation in New York City so she could provide not only for our family but also the less fortunate. With every vacation my mother booked for us or every brand new doll or sneaker or piece of technology she bought me, she’d sign another check over to one of her chosen causes. My mother supported everything from animal rights to sick children to global epidemics. She taught me the importance of boxing up once-loved but no longer needed possessions to donate to the Foundling Hospital, where abused mothers and abandoned children were given the items and tools necessary to start over; she got me involved in Walks for Cures for breast cancer and kidney disease; she encouraged me to go door to door in her office, fundraising for Unicef.

As I got older and moved out to Los Angeles to begin my own adult life, I often struggled financially—due to the seasonal and somewhat fickle nature of the entertainment industry and my desire to freelance rather than be “tied down” with a nine to five office gig. I sometimes became the charity my mother chose to help out, rather than be able to give anything back to anyone else, myself. However, I'd still do the walks, and even if I couldn't raise much money, I would be there to show my support; to wear the tee-shirt; to send out emails and now blogs and Tweets. And now that I am a mama, too, I work to pay the lesson forward to my little boy.

Yesterday Madison and I took part in the first annual KidneyWise LA walk for a cure for CKD and PKD. PKD is a genetic disease that causes rapid kidney failure, often resulting in the need for lifelong dialysis and/or transplant surgery. My grandmother was on dialysis a few times a week, which left her lethargic and frail and pretty much stole any semblance of a normal life from her. Ultimately she passed away from complications with it when I was in high school. My mother, on the other hand, received a transplant right around the time her mother passed away. But being on anti-rejection drugs so her body would 'take' to the new organ meant that her body wasn't fighting any other illness big or small. Perhaps that is why the cancer hit so hard.

It is a disease I very well may have but have decided not to get tested because I'd rather just live my life the way I want to without anything hanging over my head.

Anyway, KidneyWise set up shop in Santa Monica, along the Pacific Ocean, setting a path that led walkers south into Venice, passing palm trees, ice cream shops, and vendors. We walked with our orange bibs in honor of ones we lost, ones currently living with the disease, living donors, and those currently awaiting transplants. Some others, like me, brought their pets; some brought their children; all brought their sneakers and smiles.

Madison spent a good chunk of the day going from walker to walker, sitting in front of them, wagging his tail, and smiling up at them to try to get scratches and attention. I'm pretty sure he thought everyone was there to see him. He had his picture taken by walkers and KidneyWise staff, and I wouldn't be surprised if he made it on the website as their star walker of the day!

Madison and I did the full four mile route (there was a choice of two or four), stopping only twice for water and a cookie. At the end of the day he got lots of claps and cheers (and Cheez-Its) for a job well done. Then we went home and took a nap and ate pizza.

But though the walk is now over, the work is far from it. You can still donate to the cause, and I encourage you all to do so in the name of Madison's grandma.

Woof Wednesday...

2010-03-03T08:16:00.000-08:00

I bought a new spring bag this week, so Madison got a new bag, as well...

Coming Soon To A Book Store Near You?

2010-02-26T14:07:00.000-08:00

Meet Madison.

At three years old and only about a foot tall,

it’s easy to look at him and think he’s too small.

He has a tiny pink tongue and even tinier teeth;

he likes to lay in your lap, and he’s oh so sweet.

But that’s just what he wants you to think--

that way his secret stays safe, hidden behind a wink...

I have gotten it in my head that Madison needs to be the star of his own children's book series.

I initially got the idea about two years ago when my friend brought home a little Yorkie puppy of her own from her business trip over in Korea. Right then and there I decided they needed to be besties and appear in a Swingers for dogs style bromance comedy. It was going to be a short film or the first book in a series, but unfortunately, putting them in a room together (even though it was outdoors) proved that they were not going to be fast friends, let alone able to work side by side together without some on-set feuding.

Last week, though, I got to thinking about something slightly different, something Madison could carry all on his own. After dropping another friend off at her apartment only to find about ten cop cars parked in front of a house a block away, K-9 units and all buzzing around, I came up with something I thought was ingenious: Madison as an undercover cop!

Now let's face it, everyone expects to see a big German Shepherd tearing ass across a parking lot chasing them or sniffing out drugs and bombs in the luggage area of the airport. But a sweet, fluffy, tiny little Shih Tzu?!? No one would see him coming!

I haven't quite worked out the details for the first story, yet, but I already have the images in my mind for the first two pages in which the readers get to "meet" Madison. I know children's stories are simplistic and often much more about the illustrations than the words, but I learned that often writers don't get a say in the illustrations after they sell their story. Publishing houses take that over and employ someone with whom they already have a contract. Which could mean amazing, professional, colorful graphics...or something that's just completely wrong for the image. After all, this is all about making Madison the star of the series so he can go on a book tour ala Mr. Wiggles!

Think of the possibilities: as an undercover member of the force, Madison can work cases about finding lost items, "cat" burglars, and living on the street amongst the strays...where he can maybe fall for one and/or convince the force to bring them all on board. Because all dogs are valuable!!

So I'm thinking about taking photos of Madison to go along with all of my chapters and then using a computer graphics program to create pencil sketch style artwork. I'll package the entire book-- not just the words-- myself, much the way I used to in elementary school when we'd have children's book contests and have to be responsible for finishing the entire book by one (or in the cases of most of my friends, one's parents)'s selves. Then I'll try to sell the whole thing to a publisher, even if it ends up just being a subsidy one.

On one of our many trips to and from New York last year, Madison made a friend in one of the terminals. She was a little girl around two or three-- the age range for these books-- and she seemed to fall in love. Before we boarded, her mother took her to the bathroom in the airport, and when they returned she was carrying a little stuffed dog in a plastic purse. She had dragged her mother over to one of the many newsstand gift shops when spotting a little brown, black, and white dog she just had to have. She wanted her own Madison! Needless to say, I see a bigger picture marketing plan involved in these books here, expanding into a plush toy (modeled exactly after Maddy) that can be sold with a very special gift set!!

A good plan so far, no??

Handy Maddy...

2010-02-25T09:38:00.000-08:00

Madison may only be three years old, but I have been trying to give him chores since he was about three months old! I started with trying to get him to put all of his (ever growing collection of) toys away in a pile in the corner of the living room every evening. This was so that if I had to get up in the middle of the night to check on him or change his pee pad, I would step on something and throw my back out or fall on my butt. He was receptive to the idea of learning something new, and it seemed to be more of a game for him anyway to pick out one specific toy from the group and drop it into a specific area. But very quickly when I'd announce we were done and excitedly exclaim how good he was for getting it right, he'd excitedly tear into the pile and move the toys-- one by one-- back around the room. He thought that, too, was a game. Let's just say something about cleaning up seems to have gotten lost in the human-to-dog translation.

Then I discovered that there were certain things he liked to do to try to be helpful on his own. While I was putting away laundry one day, I noticed he would stand on his hind legs and push the drawers closed every time I would turn around to grab another tee shirt or bra or whatever. But since he gave up with that pretty quickly-- preferring instead to just lay on the warm pile of clothing-- I deduced that he probably wasn't trying to be helpful so much as he just wanted to take my attention away from whatever I was throwing into the drawers and instead turn it back on him.

These days, though, he has developed a nice morning routine. He runs to the sliding glass door in the morning, pleading with me through his eyes to be let outside so he can take patrol of the courtyard. If any little neighbor dogs are outside, he barks at them and tears @$$ back inside to sit against my thigh on the couch and stare out the window longingly instead. If no one else is out, he'll sit in the corner of the patio that faces the stairs to the front door and stare longingly...both ways awaiting the mailman.

Okay, it might be a cliche that dogs like mailmen. I don't know how or why that whole phenomena of cartoons of dogs chasing mailmen started, but the image comes to mind every morning when Madison hears him downstairs, funneling letters and magazines and tons of junk circulars into our boxes. Madison barks and growls and runs around like a little crazy person, tail-wagging and practically salivating. He knows that when the mailman is done, we will head down to see what we got. It has become a ritual since I've been "working from home," and on some days, admittedly it is the only time he gets to go out of the confines of our own patio...or on the days when it rains, getting the mail is the only reason I'll let him go out at all!

I'm glad Madison has finally found a chore he actually enjoys, though-- even if it is one I still have to go with him to do (man, if I could teach him out to put a key in the mailbox, we'd both be geniuses, though!!). After all, he has to pull his own weight around here in some way! I pay all the bills; I chauffeur him around to the vet and the beach and the park; I make him breakfast and dinner every night! He, meanwhile, managed to move in, bringing with him a ton of stuff, and take over...and if he wasn't so cute, it'd be something of a parasitic relationship.

Woof Wednesday...

2010-02-24T10:29:00.000-08:00

A candid of Madison during a recent photoshoot to promote some tee-shirts I had made up for charity. He makes the best model! Now I just need to get him some covers or a national campaign...any paid work will do, really. Inquire about his rates and special skills within!

The Possibility of Reincarnation...

2010-02-24T09:07:00.000-08:00

When Madison and I were back in New York with my mother in her final days, I noticed something strange. Madison began taking on some of the characteristics of my childhood dog, a reddish-brown Golden Retriever named Amber (named not for her color but for Tiffani Amber Thiessen, I'm somewhat embarrassed now to admit. But that's just how much pop culture has influenced my life!) He would sit and stare at me for long periods of time while I was working on my computer or watching television. He would sometimes stare at the wall or a spot in the living room by the air conditioner, as well. It got to the point where I was wondering if he saw something there that I couldn't-- a bug, a speck of dust, a spirit. He would even choose to lay at the foot of my childhood bed instead of on my pillow as he does at our home.

The kicker was that whenever I would mention Amber's name, he would turn to me and cock his head, as if he was responding to his own name. And that is one trait that he carried home with him and continued all these months later. It is somewhat baffling because when he was a baby, I would put him on my lap and show him old pictures of Amber, so he has heard her name without incident.

Now, I'm not sure if I believe in reincarnation. I know there are strong arguments for it and also against it, depending on your religious beliefs and upbringing. And quite frankly, I don't like organized religion of any kind, so I'm not inclined to trust what they say about this subject as blindly as others seem to. I know that I don't want to believe in reincarnation; I like to think that we're all unique and one of a kind and when we pass, our spirit gets to live in peace as its reward for surviving this crazy, mixed-up world. It saddens me to think that we're recycled the same way we're told to recycle our plastics and aluminum.

But I admit that Madison's recent behavior has had me scratching my head and wondering if perhaps her spirit was still in that Brooklyn apartment and she decided to use my dog as a vessel to be transferred out. Maybe even in order to see California and the beach, as I always promised her but sadly never got to deliver (she passed away just a few months before my apartment building decided to allow dogs, but in all honesty, I doubt my mother would have been able to give her up even if I could have had her here).

I must also admit that his behavior isn't consistent. Maybe she just likes to visit from time to time? He still gives me tons of kisses even when I don't ask for them, which is something she never used to do. I'd have to hold her face next to mine for her to reluctantly swipe at my cheek. And when I brought home one of Amber's toys and her old dog bed to be passed down to him, he sniffed each one but was reluctant to play with, or sit on, them, respectively. It was as if he recognized that these toys belonged to another dog, and he didn't want to encroach. And if Amber's spirit truly was somehow lounging inside my little pup, I have a feeling she would have plopped her sassy self right back down on that bed like she had never left it!

Woof Wednesday...

2010-02-17T09:12:00.000-08:00

In most parts of the country, it's still winter. But here in Los Angeles, that means beach and pool weather is just starting to return!

Novelty Acts Part 2...

2010-02-15T08:29:00.001-08:00

Hello?? Madison here again... Okay, seriously, if anyone is out there, please send reinforcements!

I have a new nemesis. Okay, he's not really new. He's been here since Mama and I got home from Grandma's about two dog years ago. But lately he has been coming into our home and chasing me around, and I used to be able to just jump on a chair to avoid him, but he has figured out that he, too, can get up on the chair. Sometimes he tries to kiss me. Sometimes he tries to hump me. Mostly he just wants to play. And the really upsetting part? He's young and cute and steals attention from me!

The 'he' here is my neighbor, Snowball. Snowball is a little white ball of energy with a pink tongue (just like me), a pointy white tail (just like me), and a high bark (at least my voice has dropped! And I've been "fixed" (whatever that means; Mama says I'm perfect, but I don't know what was wrong with me before)!). He lives right next door, one apartment over. I can hear him through the front door when he barks. I can see him through the bars when we sit on the patio. He always jumps and tries to walk on his back legs. He's a show-off. And Mama thinks he's so cute she wants to get one just like him.

Um, hello?? I was just like him once! When I was new and a puppy and full of exploratory energy and separation anxiety! But I'm older now, mature. And I still give her kisses, but I calmly sit in her lap and let her hold me like a baby. I don't wiggle away (well...not unless there are other people around and I have to maintain my 'cool guy' image).

Snowball gets lots of attention. Not just from my Mama. Though she, too, always checks to see if he's outside in the mornings and makes me go say hello if he is. She thinks I'm afraid of him and tells me to trust her and let him give me a good morning kiss. She says he just wants to be my friend. But I know better! I know he wants to move in on my territory. Before he came along, I was top dog. I had everyone in the building eating out of the palm of my hand, and most of the time they'd bring treats so I could eat out of theirs.

Snowball's Mama is the manager of the apartment building. Sometimes people ring her doorbell with a maintenance issue, but I know they really just want to see Snowball. Why don't we have a doorbell? Why don't people come see me (more)??

Maybe it's better that Mama thinks I'm afraid of him-- of all other dogs, really. Sometimes she says she wants to get another one so I have a brother or a sister, and I really don't want her to (but I don't know if she's serious because she also says she has to get a 'real' job but hasn't moved off the couch yet...well, except for yesterday when she dragged this thing out to the patio and sat with me while I ate my rawhide treat). I don't see what all the fuss about dogs is; I mean, I know I'm pretty awesome, but generally I much prefer people who can give me scratches and belly rubs and french fries.

Oooh french fries!!

But in all seriousness, Mama told me once that Grandma used to try to force friends on her, or try to force her to socialize at times she just didn't feel like it. Doesn't she get that she's repeating the cycle now, with me???

A Stickler For Routine...

2010-02-14T14:56:00.001-08:00

Seven years ago I moved into the place in which I still inhabit (okay, so I lied a bit when I said in a previous post that Madison was my longest relationship; clearly the one with my apartment currently trumps the one with my dog). When I moved in, with my brand new, delivered-straight-from-Levitz bedroom set and kickass (powder blue!) mattress, I promptly got to work claiming "my" side of the bed for the first time in my entire life. Now, I didn't have to make my claim like I was one of two dozen girls moving into a shared house to vie for love and/or cash prizes on a reality shows; when I moved in, it was just me and myself and I sharing a "handicapped accessible" (read: wider doorways and a bathroom the size of some people's bedrooms) one bedroom in the valley. I wasn't dating anyone, casually or otherwise, with whom I wanted to avoid a nightly argument over pillow firmness and amount of covers. I wasn't even looking to date anyone-- again casually or otherwise-- and therefore making an inevitable decision a bit premature. No, instead, I chose to do it because I felt it was the "grown up" thing to do (and though many knew from watching Gilmore Girls that actual grown-ups don't use that term, like many things in my life, I joined that party a bit late and was still living in somewhat slower talking ignorant bliss).

I went from a twin bed at my parents' apartment-- one that I slept on from ages three to eighteen, I might add!-- to a twin bed at my on-campus college apartment. I never had the option of picking a side, let alone stretching out, for fear that I would roll over and directly into the wall. For this reason, when I moved into my own place, I made it a point to have the movers drop the bed directly in the center of the room. I guess in theory it would have made more sense for me to opt to sleep directly in the center of the bed, splayed out like a starfish to claim all of the California Queen size mattress as MINE. Or at least to sleep diagonally as I often found myself doing when in hotel rooms. But for reasons I never sat down to analyze, I chose the left side of the bed-- the one closer to the door, and the side on which my own mother slept in her bed.

This went on without incident for about four years. The left side of the mattress molded nicely to my shape (I'm a stomach sleeper), and every few months or so I'd rotate the pillows so that they'd all "flatten" at an equal rate. Every time I'd wash my sheets, I'd make sure to wash all four pillow cases, even though three of those pillows were only collecting dust-- not face grime, residual make-up, skin oil, or drool. Then inexplicably one summer evening, I rolled over to the other side and there I stayed for the last three years.

If I'm being really honest, I think I must have gotten so hot that I just needed to be as close to the window as humanly possible, as if hoping that I could catch a slight breeze from a stray car whizzing by the building at three a.m (I refuse to sleep with the central heat or air conditioning cranked up because it makes me wake up with a dry and scratchy throat-- probably because I never get around to dusting my bedroom furniture and all that extra air blowing around uproots the nice little layer to which I have grown so accustomed). And maybe subconsciously that is why I decided to stay there for the next few hot summer nights. And when the fall and then winter rolled around, I didn't want to disturb my new routine. And besides, summer would be upon us once again anyway.

The point of all of this is that when Madison came to live with me, I was a right-side-of-the-bed sleeper. For the first few months he wasn't allowed to sleep in my bed with me (mostly because I was afraid I'd roll over on him in the middle of the night and crush him. He was so tiny I could hold him in one hand, after all!), but once I allowed him to, we developed a routine where every night he'd jump up on the right side of the bed and crawl over me to get to his pillow on the left side. And if he had to pee in the middle of the night and managed to jump off to find his pee pad but was too tired to climb back in, he put his paws on my side and nudge at my arm until I, still half in a stupor, picked him up.

In the past week or so, though, I have somehow found my way back over to the left side of the bed again for no good reason. The remote is kept in the drawer on the right side, as is my tape recorder and a notebook for when I get an idea for a good story right before I'm about to fall asleep. Still I find myself gravitating toward the left. Maybe my body needs to lean left the way my political affiliations do. Maybe I'm trying to honor that I live on the "left coast." Maybe the groove on the right side of the mattress (because Lord knows it's too heavy for me to even attempt to flip!) has just gotten too deep, and I'm hoping the other side "righted" (no pun intended) itself while it had a break from my weight.

But Madison is not having it. The left side has been his for the past two and a half years that he has been allowed to sleep in the bed, and he is not going to give it up so easily. So as I drift off to sleep, he plunks himself down right next to me, inching himself closer and closer, as I find myself heading toward the edge in the middle of the night. He is slowly but surely pushing me off the bed instead of just taking up residence on the other side-- or hell, at the foot like most normal dogs!

I never thought I'd be the flexible one in a relationship!

So there we are, an average sized woman and her little dog, snuggled on the edge of one side of a California Queen size bed like we're two lonely sardines still left in the can. If I had known this was going to be my life, I wouldn't have wasted so much money on such a big mattress and frame but stuck with the (however sad) little twin I was so used to and filled the extra space in the bedroom with something we'd both get a lot of use out of: a mini fridge!!

My Funny Valentine...

2010-02-10T09:47:00.000-08:00

It's almost Valentine's Day, but I can't buy the one I love flowers or chocolates...because he'd scarf either or both right down and then get violently sick. Two years ago I gave him the stuffed Jeffrey Tambor talking dog that the guy I was seeing at the time got me from Hallmark. It didn't go exactly as I was hoping.

This year I think I'll just settle for some heart-shaped cookies...

Woof Wednesday...

2010-02-10T08:43:00.000-08:00

"Mama, is it raining AGAIN???"

Woof Wednesday...

2010-02-03T12:21:00.000-08:00

This boat has been parked on my block for about two weeks. It survived the torrential rains, and Madison is ready to take it out for a spin!

The Best Wingman Ever...

2010-02-03T10:25:00.000-08:00

Madison prefers the regular park to the dog park about ten-fold. Even though he has to be on a leash while there, he gets to go up to other dogs on his terms; he gets chase ducks; he gets to look for the ice cream truck; and he gets to explore the kids' play area, where there is a sand pit, giant rocks, slides, and swings.

We have been going for walks every morning this week at the park, and one thing I took notice of right away was just how many stay-at-home moms there are. I always found it to be a luxury, but in this town, where so many have the kind of lifestyle that allows for one parent to stay home all of the time, those who can, do take advantage of it. I'm only a little bit jealous; I am glad to be Madison's mama for free, but I admit if someone was paying my way through life financially, I would be able to enjoy my time with him even more because I wouldn't have to worry about watching the clock while we're at the beach or the park because mama has to get home to do a conference call or post an piece of "breaking news."

We have also encountered a few obligatory nannies (it may be the valley, but it's still LA!), "stay-at-home grandparents" and even a stay-at-home-dad with an adorable little boy and a dog.

Now, Madison is on a mission whenever we are taking a walk. He is focused on sniffing the ground in front of him, looking for a nice patch of grass on which to poop but also for any stray crumbs someone who was eating a sandwich while walking might have dropped. The minute we sit down to rest, though, he stops listening to me completely and looks for someone new who will pay attention to him. Usually it's whoever smells the most of food, I would assume, but yesterday it was a little blond-haired boy named Marvel.

Marvel was busy spinning around the playground with his little arms out and his little pants sagging low enough to see his Huggies underneath. Madison, sitting on my lap at the moment, spotted him and kept his eyes locked until little Marvel got dizzy enough-- at least momentarily-- to stop moving for a second. Madison sat up straighter and inched forward, intrigued, and Marvel yelled out "Doggy!" and came running. It was a match made in heaven!

Madison jumped off my lap and onto the rock on which I was sitting; Marvel climbed up the rock to sit next to him. Madison sniffed Marvel's hair; Marvel held his check against Madison's to give an a very Hollywood "air kiss." Marvel found and picked up stick after stick, and Madison, one step behind him, eagerly chased each one as Marvel discarded it in favor of a new one. Marvel had a little rubber ball that he buried in the sand, and Madison dug energetically, recovering the trinket treasure. Marvel watched Madison digging and decided to copy the motions, sending sand flying everywhere. And that's when Stay-At-Home Dad finally stepped in.

Now, normally I'd comment on naming a child 'Marvel,' but Stay-At-Home Dad wore a faded baseball cap and vintage X-Men tee-shirt, so I pegged him for an aspiring screenwriter or film reviewer and let it go.

While our boys bonded, Stay-At-Home Dad and I chatted briefly about the book I was reading, which was such bad chick lit I had to play it off as being research for a potential review of my own. We talked about training our dogs (his was so young that he couldn't be brought to the park just yet), the perks of the park over the beach (as I was just now coming to find them), and how his three year-old Marvel and my three year-old Madison really weren't all that different despite being of different species.

There are a lot of jokes about (and even a commercial featuring) guys renting dogs to meet women in parks, but it works both ways. And the thing is, a dog is the best kind of "potential mate magnet" because they can cut through the bullshit and sense a person's true self. And if you are truly a dog person, you're going to need someone who also likes the animals just as much. And Madison liked Stay-At-Home Dad as much as he liked Marvel. At one point he pulled the leash out of my hands, running across the grass to curl up in Stay-At-Home Dad's cross-legged lap and allow both boys to pet him. He was in puppy heaven, and looking across at them was like looking at a picture of the complete family I wanted once upon a time but more recently have come to resign myself (for one reason or another) that I may never obtain.

If it had just been me sitting in that park alone, though, I would have kept my nose in my book. I wouldn't have struck up a conversation with Stay-At-Home Dad; I wouldn't have found reason to. People say you make a whole new group of friends when you have children: the parents of your children's friends and classmates. And that is something I have always looked forward to because I genuinely like meeting new people. I just never really stopped to think before that if Madison is my first child, I would be making new friends through him.

Frat Boy...

2010-01-29T08:28:00.000-08:00

My dog certainly is a twenty-one year old now! This morning he, still half-asleep, stumbled onto the lawn in front of our apartment building and promptly threw up. Then he rubbed his face clean on the grass and ate a bunch of ice cream. He seemed quite proud of himself.

I don't really have a long story or "lesson learned" to go with this at this time, I just felt the need to share the "news." Maybe after I wake up a bit...but what a start to the weekend!

No (More) Pictures, Please!

2010-01-28T11:18:00.000-08:00

Though I am determined to make Madison famous this year, I'm not so sure he is as into it as I am. Here I catch him acting out against the paparazzi, and for that, I can't say I blame him!