Let's face it. People can't write well about dogs, or use them in any sort of significant way in their writing without seeming drippy and precious.
Paul Lisicky is the exception. I hereby declare him the only one allowed to use dogs in writing.
In other news, I've been busy, but not necessarily in a good way. HR at Stuffolk royally fucked up when it came to my non-maternity-leave maternity leave (we have "maternity disability" because, of course, having a child is JUST like having a gimpy leg), and informed me a week ago that I wouldn't be receiving my salary for all of July and August. Luckily, for everyone involved, we came to some agreement that I would work all of the 7.5 days I missed in May and didn't have enough sick time to cover (for, you know, my "disability") by the end of June. So I've been in the office. Working on stuff for our annual Creative Writing Festival. With my baby and my mother, who came for a little vacation but was instantly put to work. She's an awfully good sport. So's the baby, for that matter.
So, you know. Fun and excitement never stops over here!
Also, I now have an author web site of sorts. It's still kinda under construction. But here it is, if you've nothing better to do. (I hope you do.)