Nom de Plume

Harry P. is not completely potty-trained–or as I say in front of him and Steve makes fun of me, P-O-T-T-Y. So he now has a crate, and is about to be officially crate-trained. He wasn’t too happy when I lured him in there for an hour on Saturday with a handful of treats, but when I got back, was happily snoozing. He’s a good sleeper.

We also went to the vet–no chip, he’s five months, and has ear mites. The vet wants a stool sample, which is probably wise because who knows what he’s gotten from eating it. Yes, our dog has a very unfortunate habit of eating excrement. He makes do with his own, but prefers that generated by other animals. I am totally grossed out.

Then, coffee with Leslie and then Elizabeth and I walked around Seward Park. Her puppy Koya and Harry P. got on like guns afire. Yesterday, Steve and I spent the entire day in the Jeep as we scoped out surfing spots on the Strait of San Juan de Fuca. Now Monday morning, and must get dressed and go to work.

I’m a little worried about crating Harry all day.