Caroline in Paris

I nearly saw a dog get killed today. Jolie, Juliette and I were heading back from a nice, long walk and were threading our way through pedestrians on a narrow sidewalk when I looked up and saw a man holding a leash. Like, folded up in his hand. And about ten yards behind him was a perky little Jack Russell Terrier, who balked when he saw my dogs…

…and dodged into the street. The narrow little street on a steep hill with a huge van barreling down toward us, I mean. And there’s the owner with the leash dangling stupidly, yelling “Don’t be scared! They won’t hurt you! They’re nice dogs–don’t be scared!” while I just…yelled. Because of the van.

Anyway. I’m not sure which of them did the avoiding, but the dog’s fine, and I’m feeling a tiny bit less like an irresponsible pet owner, myself.

Because, see, lately? Juliette’s just decided that sleeping’s no fun anymore. It took us a while to notice, since Nick’s been traveling so much (the dogs sleep in our bed when he’s gone) and since she hadn’t quite gotten to the sleeping-through-the-night stage, anyway. She was close, and she did manage now and then, but I guess that at some point, she just started to…slide.

It got to where we decided that maybe we had just moved her into the kitchen too soon (with Jolie we did it very gradually; Juliette’s transition was all of one night long). So we brought the crate back into the bedroom, popped them in, tossed some bedding onto the floor next to it and settled in.

Well…three of us settled in. Juliette didn’t stop panting, whimpering, whining, and generally looking and sounding crazy all night. I mean All Night Long. I tried everything I could think of to comfort her for hours on end, but the frustration was building, you know? We wound up with an awful sort of detente where I went back to the bed, but squirted Juliette with a water bottle whenever she got too loud. Nick thinks he got about two hours of sleep altogether; the puppy and I certainly got less.

Around three in the morning about all we could come up with was putting her out on the sidewalk in a cardboard box, but in the morning I felt a certain clarity–like, the kind you feel after a sleepless night ends with a ninety-minute nap covered in a nice warm blanket of dogs who are perfectly capable of behaving once they’re allowed into the bed.

1) Moving her crate was clearly a mistake. She just had no idea what was going on; no wonder she freaked out.
2) If she’s not sleeping, it’s because she’s not tired enough. Hmm…why might that be?

When Jolie was a puppy, she was quite clear about how much exercise she needed. She’d demand walks, and pull in the other direction if we tried to come home too soon. She’d race around the apartment and bring us toys to throw ad nauseum…heck, she’d even eat less on days when we’d been less active. She managed her energy level, is what I’m saying; she still does. Juliette, on the other hand…she may be a pain in the neck, but she never complains about the agenda. I mean, she knows that she gets one “big” walk per day, but that’s whatever I say it is, and the rest of the time she just sort of does whatever everyone else is doing.

And between that, Jolie’s new maturity, and the fact that it’s such a freaking pain to take both of them anywhere, I’ve been getting…lazy. Can’t run with the pair of them, hate taking them into stores, and even just walking down the street is a mess, so I’ve been doing the minimum…and then slowly lowering it.

So I’ve made my New Year’s Resolution a little early this year, and here it is:

My puppy will be exhausted by the end of every day.

And so this week has been an 80’s-movie montage of walking, running, playing in the mud, baths (they make Jolie insane) and playdates. I take them separately where I have to, but they come everywhere I can bring them along, and let me tell you: Jolie and I are both absolutely wrecked by dinner time. But it’s good for us, too, right? I mean, it’s hard to be sure, what with how Jolie’s pretty much all middle, but Nick swears that said middle’s been expanding, and between my cranky knee and the aforementioned laziness, my own middle can’t be far behind.

Oh, and Juliette’s started sleeping through the night.