Patti Soldavini

Archive for March 27th, 2011|Daily archive page

Two-Headed Leash

In weimaraners on 03/27/2011 at 6:06 pm

"NICE move with the leash today."

When Olive and I are at the dog park, I always remove her Frankenprong so it doesn’t accidently flip to the prong side and spear another dog’s eyeball like an olive on a toothpick. Then, I drape it (still attached to her three-foot leather leash) around my neck, looping the collar through the handle of the leash. This way, the Frankenprong doesn’t get impossibly twisted up and require the skills of a transmission specialist to untangle. Truly, when a prong collar gets tangled, it resembles a bicycle chain that someone’s thrown into a blender operating at supersonic speed. It would be easier to untangle 40 psychotic slinkys. When we get ready to leave and it’s time to get the Frankenprong back on Olive, it’s no easy task. Still in a state of delirious stimulation watching the rest of her friends frolic on the playground, Olive tries to sit still, but it’s like asking a mouse to sit still in front of a giant block of stinky cheese. Impossible. So, with my ski-gloved hands, I fumble for much too long trying to secure the Frankenprong around Olive’s neck while the leash is still wrapped around my neck. It’s like attempting to perform brain surgery while wearing boxing gloves. FINALLY, I get it clasped (or pronged). Only to realize that as Olive starts to take off like a bottle rocket, the leash is now wrapped around my neck like a noose. I kid you not. I was now secure on one end of the leash headfirst, just like Olive was at the other end. Since the leash is only 36-inches long, I realized the predicament I was in rather instantly. I grabbed the leash on Olive’s end and the German Shepherd’s owner helped hold Olive as I unpronged her to get my head out of the noose. I am pretty certain that Olive and her stupid human trick amused everyone at the dog park today.

Little Red Corvette

In weimaraners on 03/27/2011 at 12:08 pm

"CORVETTE? I see myself more as a Lamborghini."

I realized this morning, for the first time, that Olive is my little red corvette. Not because she zips around like one necessarily (although that’s true), and not because of her gorgeous “styling” (although that’s true too) but because she’s the dog I always wanted and for some reason never thought I’d own. I endured all the well-meaning recommendations from friends and strangers to get a rescue dog, and all the well-meaning warnings from a vast pool of legitimate sources about how challenging Weimaraners are to own before chucking them all aside and saying “SCREW IT, I WANT A WEIMARANER.” I’m so glad I always listen to the little voice inside me. It has served me well in life. In fact, I am admittedly a known “info-maniac,” researching a topic deeply partly because I am naturally inquisitive, partly because I love to learn and partly because it informs my decisions in ways that allow me to make choices in life instinctually, intuitively and confidently. Maybe I am part dog. (I should only be so lucky.) As I watched Olive, the elusive rocket race around the dog park this morning followed by a pack of four-legged pooches, each one as unique as the crayons in the familiar orange and green Crayola carton, I marveled at the joy she seems to feel in doing this. It is palpable. At the same time, I melted with the besotted realization that “MY GOD, SHE’S ACTUALLY MINE.” Yes, Weimaraners may not be the easiest breed to live with, but then I’m not the easiest person to live with either. It’s all about context and perspective. On the other hand, I feel like Olive is a sort of intellectual peer and she challenges me. You look into Olive’s beautiful amber eyes ringed with a narrow field of blue and you can see the wheels spinning inside her head. I’m surprised smoke isn’t coming out of her ears because she looks like she’s mentally calculating trigonometry. She is taking everything in, evaluating it and assigning merit or lack thereof. Olive is also exceptionally loyal and loving. I think it’s an awesome combination. And besides, I could never live with a stupid dog. It would be both boring and embarrassing.

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