Thursday in the Park with Charlie

When I first got Charlie, I tried the Caesar Milan approach. Charlie never bought it. Instead, we have now settled into a comfortably neurotic relationship where I kiss my little cuddle-bunny's feet and Charlie luxuriates in the attention like a small tan and chocolate deity. It's just not that easy to take a deity for a walk. Like most princelings, Charlie prefers to be carried. He periodically stops, stubborn as a small mule and refuses to move on. The expression in his eyes is always one of outraged disgust, at being forced to walk along a dusty, dirty path in the park. Even his attempts to chase the squirrels are half-hearted, as if he knows a mere mortal is treating him like a dog, instead of the royalty he actually is. If only I could find a dog park where they have a red carpet. Sometimes I sense Charlie watching me as I drive, his eyes half-closed, no, not watching me. Contemplating me, in a quiet but slightly puzzled way. As if he wishes that he could share just one word of the wisdom he has in one wag of his little tail.

My dog has learned a new trick!

Actually, it's a variation on an old trick. When I'm at my desk working, Charlie will sometimes roll over and look all cute - his way of saying, time to pet me! Except about a year ago he would do this, and then as soon as I got up, he would race off to get a toy and get me to play with him.

Now he has started doing the same thing with wanting to being let out! He will go to the sliding glass door of my apartment, and stand there pawing the glass like he usually does when he needs to use his toilet (in his case a large section of newspapers spread out on my balcony outside). Now he goes to the door, acts like he wants to go out, and as soon as I'm half-way across the room to let him out, he rushed off to grab a toy and runs up to me with his best I'm the cutest dog in the world expression! I must admit his ploy usually works.

Turnips are the new potatoes

Yesterday I cooked with a Turnip for the first time. It should have made me feel like Old Mother Hubbard, but I was making the Minestrone soup recipe out of the new Weight Watchers cookbook. 3 points a serving, except mine would be less because I left out the potatoes. And the fabulous thing about turnips? They're like potatoes in texture, except they taste a little more oniony and they have about half the calories. Totally yum! Trust me, turnips are the new potatoes. Take that, Rachel Ray!