"Did I fall in love, or did I find disaster?"

Undoubtedly both.

I am idiotically tired, yet I insist on sitting here to post. I spent some time after dinner making a bracelet for the very nice person who invited me to try out GMail. So far, the account is working well. After I've used it for a week, I'll post the address for you guys so you can use that as an alternate address for me (or maybe I'll send you a mass GMail... Hah!). I know, I know: shut the hell up.

Riley, being the good girl she can be on special occasions, is sleeping peacefully in her "room" (i.e., her kennel). She's getting really good at going to bed when I tell her to. She used to make her way from my room to the hallway, then would sit near her food bowl, foolishly thinking I'd just forget I told her to go to bed. Now, she just trots her happy ass to her room. I'm such a proud mom. I even have her picture on my desk at work, not to mention another one in my mailbox in the front office. But hell, I even have a picture of Grantasm.org.net.fm on my desk, so I don't know what that says.

I do not, however, have what Hufflepuff refers to as "the engagement/wedding announcement photo" on my desk (it's on the corkboard, silly!). To wit:

This is, of course, how it appears in the Sunday paper. No, I just couldn't scan the original, and this was my idea of a quick fix. Surely, I will post the proper scan ASAP. After all, you can't really see how impeccable my hair was in this one.

Anyway, back to Riley Boogie: I guess I should formally train her. Unless you've got something she perceives as a treat in your hand, she doesn't often come when called (I guess she's on to that whole "Let me call you so I can put you in your crate" thing. Damned smartass.). But she is generally a good dog. She gets all excited when she hears someone getting ice from the freezer, because more than likely, if it's her gramps, he'll give her a cube. And some days, I think she's pissed at me when I come home from work late. When I make my way to my room, she's right behind me, smacking me in the ass with her front paws. Must've learned that from her Uncle Ross. Saucy bastard.

She did the damndest thing the other day. I spent most of the weekend totally cleaning out my closet (no Eminem, please) and put the rug that was in my room in the closet, instead. Riley's used to lying on it where it used to lie, in front of the hope chest. Well, the other day, she jumped up on the bed via her usual route, floor to hope chest to bed. When it was time for her to get back on the floor, I nudged her towards the top of the hope chest, where she just stood there. I pushed her butt to encourage her forward to the floor, but that just resulted in her butt somehow sticking up in the air. She wouldn't disembark the hope chest, just stared at the floor. I couldn't figure out why she wouldn't jump down, since she'd done it about a thousand times before this day.

She stood there for a solid ten minutes. There was a towel on the floor from when I moved my dresser into the closet, and for some reason, I decided to place it in front of the hope chest. Sure enough, that rascally little shit finally jumped off the chest, landed on the floor, and sauntered to a cool spot on the floor. I can't believe she was waiting for someone to roll the carpet out for her. Amazing.

Yes, folks, Amazing Pet Stories, right here in the Banana World Blog. The fun, it doesn't end!