Sweet Nothings, etc.

Thursday was Thanksgiving, and Eska and I hosted pot-luck dinner at 215. Only, Eska didn't really host at all - by popular (repeated) request, I sequestered Eskarina in my bedroom for most of the night, and she responded as I imagined she would: poorly. The real issue was not dealing with her whining throughout dinner. It was cleaning up the shit she left in my room (she never shits in the house unless she is extremely nervous), putting away the piles of clothes she pulled out of my drawers in a fit of rage (unprecedented behaviour), repeatedly soaking, washing, and leaving to dry the puddle of urine she deliberately left on my mattress (after dealing with the sheets and the covers on my bed).

In other words, we were not very happy with each other on Friday, which is when I resolved never to host again unless my expected company is absolutely fine with the presence of my dog and with the fact that, being a dog and NOT a human, she is likely to get excited and a little rowdy at the sight of a week's worth of food prepared for six (or more) less than familiar faces - in HER personal space.

Saturday, however, we made peace.

I have been trying to teach Eska how to say "I love you" for quite some time. Every day, I ask her how she feels about me, in a completely narcissistic move motivated by nothing if not a human desire for love and validation by way of an ego-boost. This is how our conversation goes:

me: Eskarina, what you think? What you are even thinking?
Eska: (silence)
me: Eskarina, my love, how you feel about me?
Eska: (silence)
me: Eskarina! COME ON! Do you love me, my girl? Say it inna ear, say ... say it inna ear ... (I put her face up to my ear).
Eska: (breathes uncomfortably)

Yesterday, however, as soon as I asked her how she felt about me and held her face up to my ear, she responded with a hearty lick from lobe to tip.

I love you, too, my girl.

Today, because it is 19 degrees out, and because this is the last Sunday we will be able to spend together before I have to bury my face in papers or take care of Christmas shopping and the like, I took Eska to Druid Hill Park (which is kind of like a flatter version of Mount Royal, or a bigger version of Parc Lafontaine, for you Montrealers). Needless to say, I got lost, as I knew I would, and though she gave me a run for my money when I mistakenly let her semi-free in a field of felled trees (she got tangled up in her retractable leash and gave me hell before letting me free her), when, in a moment of frustration and panic, I asked her to find me the way home, she did. She actually sniffed her way back to our very entry point entirely without guidance.

I knew having a husky would come in handy some day.

So, Eskarina and I are back on track, it seems. Still, I can't wait to let her loose in my parents' REAL backyard. I might actually get to rest over the Christmas break.