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The Sociology of Being a Dog

Wow, it's been a long while!

When I last updated this "blog", I was such a babe. I think I weighed in around 17 lbs back in August; now I'm pushing 33!
A lot has happened since then, too. The mean neighbor became the "seriously insane" neighbor, so Mom and I left the apartment one day and never went back. Well, I guess Mom went back - one weekend she was gone for a long time and when she came back, she had all sorts of stuff I remember from the apartment.
But ever since shortly after my last blog, Mom and I have been living with Grandma up in the suburbs. It's great! I have a constant canine companion, Piper, who can be an old fart of a terrier but sometimes likes to play chase and tug of war with me.
I've also had some puppy problems, namely, a bout of mange that probably came from the feral cats in the backyard of the Brooklyn apartment. After itching and scratching like mad, losing hair, and having to get lots and lots and lots of shots that made me feel downright woozy, I finally know why Mom said those cats were bad news. Now I stay away from cats, especially after my new vet's cat swiped at me when I tried to sniff her butt. I've learned my lesson: cats are the enemy! Piper still likes cats, and blames me for her getting mange and a resulting ear infection. It's not my fault Piper! I swear!
The suburbs have different kinds of wildlife than the City. For example, Grandma has shrews. I know because I managed to catch one! Mom didn't let me eat it, so I tossed it at her and it hit her smack in the leg. Mom said something about how Shakespearean it was that I killed a shrew and her name is Kate, but I dont' really know what that means. As hard as shes tried, Mom still hasn't taught me how to read fancy books. There are also lots and lots of squirrels and chipmunks and rabbits and deer! I've moved from cat poop to rabbit poop - apparently this is an improvement because rabbit poop can be "nutritious" as long as it doesn't have parasites in it - whatever that means, all I know is that it tastes good!
More recently, I've had my first experience with snow! I love it! I love pushing up a pile with my nose and then eating it! I love slip sliding around on it! and it makes that frozen ground a softer landing when Mom and I play frisbee or tennis ball on the yard.
The downfall of the suburbs is the ticks. Mom says the winter has been so warm that they've overloaded the Frontline. Grandma is an expert tick remover as a result, but man, they still hurt! I had to get another vaccine that I didn' t have to get in Brooklyn against Lyme. I hate more shots! After that mange thing, I can't stand them. I still love my suburb vet - she gives me tasty treats before I leave - but I get very scared of shots and try to run out of the office. Luckily, now that its snowed a few times, Mom says that the ticks will be gone until the spring.
Mom also recently got a job at Petco. She needs the money, but she promises me that this will mean that I will get more things to chew on, despite having to be gone from home more. Between that and class, I'm really glad Grandma and Piper will be around!
Hopefully it will not be another five months between posts. Til next time!

Hello

I've been with my mom for over a month now, nearly 25% of my life! She's the greatest. The day she got me, she and grandma went out to the kennel with the nice rescue guy, Sean. All of my brothers and sisters were already taken, and we had only been in the City for a week. It was scary where we were, out by JFK, but we knew that good homes really did exist. I was the last of my litter, and I hadn't liked anyone that had come the day before. So those folks ended up picking one of my sibs, but not me! Why didn't I like any of them? Because I knew my real mom was coming to get me, I just had to wait.
When Sean put me on the ground, I saw her, my mom, and bounded up to her. I jumped right into her arms, and didn't want to leave them at all. Unfortunately, I had to get an operation before Sean would let my new mom take me home with her. Right away, I was whisked away to the vet and had spay surgery. I don't really know what this means, but my mommy says puppies are not in my future.
I was really groggy and not feeling well for the rest of that first day at home, but my mom took good care of me. She showed me around the apartment, gave me toys to play with, and walked me around the backyard.
That first weekend I was with my mom, we spent it out at her family reunion. What a family! I still didn't have a name, so they called me whatever they felt like calling me. I ran around without a leash, played with lots and lots and lots of people, and even warmed the heart of notorious fellow dog hater, Annie. She let me know when I was being a bad puppy, but she never nipped at me or anything! Amazing for a dog whose usually looking for a fight, or so my mom says. Annie scared me, honestly, but I had too much fun playing with the people to really notice.
Since then, I've grown to love my mom more and more. She got rid of those darned fleas and worms and other puppy ills. She holds me in her lap, plays tug of war, and has the most delicious socks I've ever had the pleasure to chew. However, she keeps taking those yummy socks away from me, and also periodically takes away my play things. Sometimes she throws them far away, across the room or yard, and yells this word, fetch. I'm not sure what she wants me to do, but I get annoyed that she throws my toys away from me. Other times she takes them away and tells me things like, "markers aren't puppy toys" or "how the hell did you get this it was on top of the counter?" or "drop the dead mouse. Dead mice aren't dog toys. Put down the dead mouse. DROP THE FRIGGIN MOUSE!!!!!!!". I don't really understand what she means by all of that.
I love my mom especially when she gives me Cheerios for doing tricks. I've learned so many! Like sit, stay, come, go, ok, lie, and roll over. That means I can sit, stay, come to her when she calls my name, go and ok mean I can stop being in stay mode, lie down on command, and even roll over to show my belly. I'm still having problems with down, as in get down, because there are so many delicious things on top of counters and tables and TVs, and also with paw and shake. I don't get it. I just don't get it.
Recently, our neighbor has been very mean to us. He's put nasty things near our door and in the yard. So we've been spending a lot more time with grandma and grandpa. Grandma lives in the suburbs, and grandpa has a house by the beach. I love visiting them; I get to run around without a leash, roll in the grass, and generally be a happy dog that I don't get to be in Brooklyn. Hopefully mom and I will be moving soon. We probably wont' be in a place with a yard, but there are so many wild cats that live and poop in our current yard, my mommy says she won't miss it. I can't help cat poop tastes good! Mom says it gives me worms, but it tastes so yummy...

As for my name, I'm named after Irving Kenneth Zola, a famous sociologist who pioneered disability studies. My mommy is a graduate student in sociology and loves his work. My mommy says that maybe a little part of my name is from Emile Zola, the French philosopher and friend of Emile Durkheim. My mom thought of naming me Dogheim but decided against it. She also thought of Foucault, but her parents said it sounded naughty. So Zola I am!