Today Celeste has been pushing. Maybe it's because we went out the other day and pooped in the grass and now she has a fresh crop of fleas. I don't know. What I do know is that she's just a mess. Before we went to the market today, she had so much balled up energy that she was into everything, chewing, tearing it up, barking, screaming...the works. I was on the run watching that she wasn't trying to tear the woodwork off the wall - that's her most recent interest - or shred my shoes. So I thought I'd just take her to the market with me...that should burn off some of that energy. So we went to the market.
She couldn't wait to get out of the apartment building, but then refused to walk without being dragged. Then we came to the first crosswalk and she tried to rush out into traffic, then tried to wind herself around my legs. We unraveled that and crossed the rest of the streets without trouble, until we arrived at Fireman's Park, where there were several older men, sitting idle on the benches, whistling and calling Celeste; she was more than glad to oblige, but was restrained, dang it, by a troublesome leash. Once again, she went to rush out into traffic and ended up being jerked back (honestly, what were these men thinking, or were they thinking at all?). We avoided them and continued on to the market.
Celeste thinks that every thing on the street has been put there for her. She darted back and forth in front of me, grabbing at every leaf, used Kleenex, old candy wrapper, and puddle of spit until I ended up stepping on her. Once in the market, there were the kids. All of them squeal when they see her and she falls over, squirms and wiggles her whole body until they come over to her. The kids are on the ground with her and I'm trying to complete my shopping...all this is going on in a two foot wide aisleway crowded with people also trying to do their shopping. GRrrr...I want to kick the kids off and move on, but I end up dragging Celeste out of the aisle and into the main entrance of the market block.
I've had enough by this time, and we're heading home. Back to trying to grab trash on the street, leap into traffic, and twist herself around my legs, only this time I have a load of vegetables and dog food on one shoulder and I'm cranky. I don't care if I step on her toes when she's darting around in front of me...and I do, more than once. I don't worry about her conking her head on a light post when she's busy walking backwards or rubber-necking while making eyes at the kids behind us...and she does, more than once. We make it home and I put her lunch in a bowl and I make my lunch. We both sit down to eat - she in her room and I at the table - and she takes one sniff of her food and puts up such a racket that I'm sure the neighbors are thinking I'm killing my sweet little innocent itsy bitsy, cutie-wootie of a BRAT puppy.
I squirted her in the face with a spray bottle of water and she shut up, ate her lunch, and went to sleep. She's sleeping still. Thank God I have to go to work this afternoon. I need a break.