martinimade

Once upon a time, Lisa and Adrienne worked for the same alternative newsweekly. Now, both spend their respective lives mining their creative souls and leading hermit-like lives. And so an idea was hatched. Every week, one would send the other a sketch—either in illustration or word form—and the other would make a companion to the sketch. The result would be posted on both their blogs every week, just for grins. Even if the result isn't award-worthy, the exercise makes both minds more nimble. Hopefully.

Walking with the dog is a lot like walking with babies: every last person you pass has advice for you. And every last person thinks you are doing it all wrong. And that if you continue raising your puppy/baby that way, you are in for a life of misery. 

Like, this one time when I was walking out of the mall with my firstborn, who was about the size of a loaf of bread at the time. (She’s almost ten now. How is that possible?)

Anyway, this older woman had to stop me to left me know that my baby was only wearing one sock, which meant that her toes would freeze right off on a balmy September day in East Tennessee. She made me cry, that lady did. I stood in front of her, bawling. Eventually, she left.

So now with the puppy, I see a different woman who is clearly spiritual kin to the first woman. I’m doing the whole dog thing so very wrong on so many levels. The puppy doesn’t heel. She runs kind of helter-skelter on the leash. I let her stop to sniff stuff sometimes. I, in other words, am raising a monster.

I don’t burst into tears anymore. Instead, I write about her on the internets. I’m calling this progress.