Monday morning I woke up, showered, put on The Costume, gathered my stuff, and went to my interview. It was with a picky agency (ones run by folks who actually know tech writing are), so I pulled out all the stops. I did well; the owner signed me up.
I came home, changed, and started puppy-proofing the room, answering the phone and eating in between. Warren and I discussed the dog again. I got him to begrudgingly accept my bringing a puppy home as long as I did all the work (who else was I planning on having doing it?). He was also terrified about having a new puppy because he feared it would drive a wedge between us because the dog would bond more to him than me the way it did with his first fiancee. Ugh.
My phone interview that afternoon went so-so. I was clearly not right for the job; they wanted someone with JDBC coding experience who could sort-of write. I did, however, impress the hiring manager enough for her to consider me for an opening coming up in a few months. The company in question is very difficult to get into as a writer, so I considered myself fortunate. ( Collapse )
Having a doggie in my life again is making me feel like a whole person. She has already proven herself to be a healer.
I took her to the Savitzkys' house Wednesday night (Colleen had invited me to do so). One of the regulars had been in a car accident and was injured so badly he was using a wheelchair. I let him hold the puppy in his lap. He said she had soothed and calmed him down so much he had to have one. His cousin breeds Bichon Frises, so he's going to ask about getting a puppy at a discount.
Meanwhile, everyone adored her. She was relatively well-behaved (she pooped a little on the floor, but I was able to get it up and flush it immediately). She's also starting to try to train me. There's a whine she gives when she wants attention. It's hard, but I have to learn to ignore it so she doesn't learn to manipulate me. She did some of that whine there when I went to get myself a slice of pizza. She wasn't thrilled with the teleme cheese also there. It's the first time I'd ever seen a dog not like cheese.
We stayed for a while, and when I saw she was overloaded and wanted to sleep, I took us home.( Collapse )
Warren has really warmed up to the puppy. He now half-wants me to get him her sister. The one "gotcha" is I'd have to take care of her if he died in brain surgery, and I'm not sure I'm up to handling two dogs by myself. Actually, there's another "gotcha" -- her sister may have been adopted by now.
He also feared the dog might have epilepsy, so I spent all Wednesday night/Thursday morning up watching her sleep to make sure there were no seizures. I eventually had to sleep myself and put her back in her pen. There were no seizures; I'm convinced she was just whining for attention. She's training him already. Bichons do that.
Meanwhile, Warren keeps wanting me to name the dog something Russian or Polish. I keep waiting for the dog to tell me what she wants to be called. The dog likes things with "D" and "L" in them, but when I tried "Delilah" she gave me a glare that said, "You will not name me that under any circumstances!" Yep, she's got eyes.
She seemed to like "Dusty," but Warren hates "Dusty" because it reminds him of a guy from the TV show "Dallas." (I found the show utterly boring and couldn't sit through an entire episode.) I associate "Dusty" with "Dusty Springfield" and a much more positive image. She also was okay with "Dust Bunny," but Warren hated that. He said, "How about Zhignew?"
The puppy looked at me as if to say, "You're not going to stick me with that, are you?"
Despite this, Warren keeps pushing that name. Yesterday he had to go to the radio station for some business. He called and asked me if I wanted to meet him at IHOP for brunch. We got there, and he said he'd stopped by his home while in that area and asked his mother how to spell "Zhignew." I kept telling him the name sounds like someone sneezed and that it sounded like it was in need of a few vowels.
Never have a mouth full of hot coffee when your boyfriend spells an awful name for you.
Warren started spelling it. "S-C-Z-C...."
He'd gone through four letters and there wasn't even a vowel yet! I was doubling over, trying to not burn my throat, choke on the coffee, or have it go through my nose. I barely succeeded.
He started up again. "S-C-Z-C-I-E-G-N-I-E-U. 'Zhignew.' Isn't that simple?"
Uh, yeah. I'm going to name my dog something I can barely pronounce or spell, let alone the staff in the vet's office! "Sczciegnieu?" That looks even worse than it sounds! He says it's Polish for "the way you feel when you come home from a party," but I don't care. It fails the "yell test" (as in "How do you feel about yelling that name?").
Our waitress, Olga, was Russian, so Warren asked her to come up with some names. She came up with four. The ones I remember were "Lada," which means "okay" or "fine," "Birta," which is a Russian translation of a German name (presumably "Bertha"), and "Jzhena," which is just a name. Warren likes anything with a "z" in it, but we eventually agreed "Lada" was the best of the four. OTOH, I have cousins with that as a last name, so I'm hesitant to use it. OTGH, it's kind of neat to know what their last name means.
I tried "Lada" and "Lady" on puppy. She likes them. She has a slight preference for "Lady," but I don't want to just name her "Lady" because that's what Warren's brother's late Great Dane was named. She liked "Lady Diana," but I feel funny giving her the name "Diana" in any form because of the whole taboo about naming the living after the living. I think it's going to be "Lady Something for the dog's name, but I don't yet know what the Something is.