Ragnar the Destroyer*

*primarily of walls, yards, and carpet

For all things there is a season. A time to sow, a time to reap...

A time to attempt to rip small furry rodents into small pieces, pick fights with the neighbor's German Shepherd, and a time to howl.

Welcome to teenage doghood, where it's not the hormones that cause a pet parent to contemplate murder daily, but the instinctual need to define and defend the furry male territory. If you've never experienced teenage doghood stupidity, let me give you some examples.

• Idiot Puppy will sit nicely when the truck he recognizes enters the parking lot, but when the other German Shepherd gets out he will instantly Cujo out: full hackles, teeth bared, growling lunging in all the ways that would get him kicked directly out of daycare if he pulled that bullshit THERE. 
• Conveniently for all involved, GS is older and wiser and terribly sweet. He generally looks at me when Ragnar gets growly with a pained "children, amIright" attitude, and never ever responds negatively. Interestingly, he still comes over cheerfully to say hello every time he's allowed, which is often since his parents also recognize the "BUT I'M A BIG DOG YOU CAN'T BE ON MY GRASS WITHOUT PERMISSION" cockiness. 
• IP also sits at the back door and slobber-growls when he sees the GS's TRUCK parked across the lot. This is a new development since the snow melted, prior to which his view was blocked. It's annoying at 7am. He's been warned, by both me and fAngus. 
• fAngus's warnings generally come with a cat-paw-slap to Ragnar's face or a nip on the ear. Mine do not. 
• Apparently he occasionally channels Chewy, because the leaves are dangerous and must be announced when it's windy. Birds on the back step, however, are beneath his interest. 
• Birds are NOT beneath fAngus's interest. Particularly on the back patio. It's possible this was a consideration when a certain evil me set out birdseed on the grill this spring. 
• Mwahahahahaha
• IP has taken to getting between me and others in a protective manner I find amusing and helpful until he trips me or inappropriately shows teeth/growls at someone when I don't have an adverse response. 
• We're working on that, since big black dogs with giant teeth generally cause problems if they're not behaving in public places. And I dislike getting tripped while we're walking...or any other time. 
• It's worth mentioning again: not only does he behave well in daycare/boarding/dog park (except for going in the goddamnedishymuddypond without permission) and is a total social butterfly to everyone there, he ADORES the next door neighbors' new mop puppies. 
• I don't know what they are, but they weigh all of a couple pounds and are the size of my unused-running shoes, and Ragnar LOVES them. 
• Related: the bloodhound heritage is real, and loud. The other day we were sniffing the backyard (by "we" I mean I surfed Facebook for forever while Ragnar went over every centimeter of our shared yard-space with his nose in the dirt) and the neighbor girls brought the new moppies out. They were in the front yard.  Ragnar desperately wanted to go to the front, and when I said no he sat down, raised his nose to the sky, closed his eyes, and howled the most mournful sad and FUCKING PATHETIC ATTEMPT AT MANIPULATION OF MY EMOTIONS possible. My dog told on me to the entire damn neighborhood and the gods, because I'm a mean bitch who wouldn't let him sniff puppies. 
• Yes, it worked. Goddammit. 
• Sorry moppies, for the teenage puppy slobber. 
• All the neighbors think my dog is hilarious and cute. fAngus and I are the only ones who are less than amused at the squirrel-chasing, bunny sniffing, yard digging, wall eating, adorably snuggly teenager who has zero impulse control and a whole lot of unearned swagger. 
• To date, he's been unable to capture the elusive yard bunnies OR grey squirrels, both of whom are often spotted taunting him but fast enough to escape to the trees (up or under, depending on skill). I'm thankful for that: I give him de-worm pills and stuff, but I don't want to add any sort of small furry prey animals to my "Things Ragnar Ate" list. fAngus would have to kick his ass, since I won't let him hunt either. 

In all fairness to Ragnar's Destroyer of Walls moniker, the 3 holes he originally ate during his pica stage haven't increased in size or number for at least six months. I'm cautiously optimistic that it's time to fix the walls and maybe even get someone to paint. 

He is still occasionally the Destroyer of Carpet, which does not impress me at all and let me just say I've tried every product on the damn market and NOTHING is up to the challenge of a 75lb dog's pee. I hates it, precious, but I'm afraid of replacing the carpet AND I'm afraid if I don't he'll never stop. 

I think he'd happily destroy more of the yard if I let him. Because...dogs. 

Review: Wild Country

Wild Country by Anne Bishop
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Anne Bishop is a master when it comes to creating a universe a reader can disappear into for days. I'm a long time fan, so I know how to ride this rodeo: even though I got my copy of Wild Country the day it released (Tuesday 3/5/19) I set it aside until the weekend. I can report that the resulting anticipation did not make my week move any faster.

Cynics could say it's a dangerous game, building the sheer want to read a book you've been waiting for since the last installment (a year before) by looking at it every day on the table and not touching. I had zero worries about over-anticipation for this one, judging by the previous Others books, and rightly so. I started Wild Country on Saturday at noon and finished it before bed, because I couldn't put it down. Yet again, Anne Bishop got me completely lost in Thaisia and the often uncomfortable, sometimes funny, sometimes downright terrifying interactions between humans and Others.

Wild Country occurs during the same time frame as Etched in Bone, the last Courtyard book. As there is a detailed backstory prior to this book, I highly recommend reading the whole series. There are communications between the communities that will make sense to readers of the series, but Wild Country is its own story with its own array of personalities and could be read as a stand-alone, although to be fair the reader would miss out on many references.

The varied plot threads come together seamlessly over the course of the book as characters grow, sometimes toward their new fragile community, sometimes away, and the rest of the world (and other books' timelines) changes around them. I adore the sub-plot around the frontier saloon and its proprietor, because Tess is my favorite character in the Courtyard and I'm happy Bennett has their own lonely predator interested in learning how to interact safely with town residents of all species.

The threat of violence and savagery is skillfully written: Bishop is an adept line-skater who strays close to horror on occasion but never crosses out of dark fantasy. She's also not afraid to take out a character when a dose of real life (in her universe) kicks in, so Wild Country engages the reader on every emotional level at some point or another.

The worst part about this book is waiting until next March for another story in this universe, because every time I jump into this series it's hard to come back out. If you like dangerous, dark fantasy set in a world five steps to the left of reality (absolutely recognizable yet totally different than the modern world) you need to get into these books. Wild Country is everything I wanted in a story of the Others: I recommend setting aside a chunk of time and snacks, because you're going to be in there a while.

View all my reviews

Reasons I Shouldn't Personally Hit The Snooze Button

Disclaimer: I am not judging your ability or inability to hit said snooze button.

1) It's not actually a button anymore. Seriously..it's a random space in the middle of a touch screen on a device I'm more likely to throw across the room when the stupid noise starts than fumble my ham-hands to the correct fingertip spot on the screen. There are many other button sized things I can do with my fingers first thing in the morning* without triggering cognitive spark in my brain: the snooze button takes actual effort. And yet I do it anyway, because fuck getting up on time. 

2) Yeah yeah, I KNOW it makes me groggy. If I didn't roll over and say "fuck everything" when I woke up, and heaved myself up to a semi-upright impression of any primate I might actually wake up eventually. I'm tired all the time lately, and some of that is likely my hour of hitting snooze, because I fall all the way back to sleep in those 9 minute intervals.

3) Dreaming is a grab bag of fun. Speaking of those 9 minute intervals: I dream heavily during my between-button-fumbles. Sometimes the dream is just put on pause when I have to shut my phone up, and I can drop right back into it. 

Do you have any idea how horrifying that can be? This morning I dreamt I was charged with house/babysitting for friends of mine after their baby is born. No, I don't know why the fuck anyone would go on vacation immediately after, or leave said newborn with ME of all people: it was a dream, it made no sense. And for some reason assassins were trying to get in and kill me (there are way too many windows/doors in that house, FYI). I'm betting it's the same ones who failed to kill me in real life by sending me a fancy new winter hat and forgetting the skin-contact toxins, so NEENER I can wear my hat all winter long and my face won't melt off.

Um. Anyway.

I spent an hour this morning jumping in and out of a weird bad-guys-chasing-me-fight-back-ow-hide-fight-back-ow-HAHAYOUDIEMOTHERFUCKER-hide cycle punctuated by pauses to say "goddammit, not yet" and smacking the top of my phone again.

I should probably mention the secret passages I discovered in my dream in case the current residents don't know about them, shouldn't I?

Disclaimer the second: This is not a post about productivity or being a "look what I did before you even got up today" person. OMG I'm jealous of all of you who are those people, and I only want to kill you for the first two minutes I'm trying to claw my way into consciousness every day, I promise.

*I heard that snicker, and I appreciate the thought, but I meant the shampoo container's cap, the toothpaste, the button to grind coffee beans...etc. etc. etc.