Lauren is away for a couple days on a team-building work trip to Oakland and San Francisco, so it’s been just me and the beagle since Wednesday morning. Lauren woke up Wednesday morning just 65 minutes before her group was scheduled to meet at her gate for the flight. Again, if this had been me, I’d be freaking out… okay, it wasn’t even my trip and I was still freaking out a bit. But Lauren casually got ready and wound up being the sixth person of 20 in her group to arrive.

I came home at lunch break to make sure Baxter was okay in his new Thundershirt, our latest attempt to nip his asinine separation anxiety disorder in the bud. Somehow, whether through my poor application of the shirt or his utter determination, the velcro shirt had been bitten and torn off and was wrapped around his hind legs. And an internet cable was chewed in half. And there were several pee stains on the floor. And carpet was torn up again. I damn near lost it. NOTHING works with this dog. So when I left to go back to work, I made god damn sure that Thundershirt was wrapped around him really good and tight and there would be no easy ways for him to take it off. When I came back from work, I was pleasantly surprised to see him sleeping in his new cage, still wearing the shirt, with very minimal damage to the apartment. I pray that wasn’t a fluke.

It doesn’t sound like things are much better for Small Hound at his daycare either. Today when I came to pick him up, one of the employees told me they are worried about Baxter’s development. He seems to be regressing while the other puppies are learning. Baxter often gives up when being chased and lays on his back and lets other dogs attack him, essentially surrendering. The employees think one of these times some dog is going to take a cheap shot at him while he’s laying there not defending himself and that’ll be it for him. He also antagonizes all the other dogs into playing with him. He doesn’t get it that some of these 14-year-old dogs don’t have the ability to chase him around and won’t leave them be. They are strongly recommending some additional classes for him, or daycare may not be an option, and then we’re really screwed.

At night I had Brian Mego, Mike Franklin, and two of their friends over for a poker night. All the other people I invited declined at the last minute, but the five of us carried the game on well into the night. I was in the final two, and was super tired, so just went all-in blind on the last hand and hoped for the best, but turned over a 2 and 7 and lost the game. Oh well.

And tonight it’s time to take a night to relax by myself. Baxter is a little tired from daycare and is snoozing away. I picked up some tequila and margarita mix and some Indian food and am parking it in front of the TV watching the Twins game in the nice cool AC.