Bless her heart, my fabulous friend AbFABB can wear so many hats with ease (I speak figuratively, not literally, of course, because a hat would mess up her ‘fro). And now she can tuck a little “Press Agent” card in the brim of said hat because she is helping drum up interest in Paws and Reflect, which comes out next month and includes essays by me and my Plus One (along with lots of other people, some of whom are even famous–no, really!). If you’re in our general area, she’s going to organize a little shindig. Time and place to be announced, but of course I’ll keep you posted.
And since she brought it up today, this seems an opportune time to share an excerpt from my essay (feedback is of course always welcome, but the book is already printed, so it’s too late for edits):
When I got Dakota, I was single. All my friends said he’d be a total guy magnet. I could see their point—unlike me, Dakota’s never met anyone he didn’t like. What he lacks in intelligence, he makes up for in geniality.
He’s kind of a blonde like that.
I tried to take Dakota running with me around the neighborhood—I pictured taking him, later, to the park and hitting the running trail, where there’s never a lack of hotties and their dogs. He was great for the first couple hundred yards. But Dakota turned out to have this habit of wanting to stop at every tree, signpost, or mailbox and read the scents. Eventually, I realized I risked dislocating my shoulder from all the sudden stops, and we compromised with a brisk walk. By the time we walked to the park, though, he was exhausted—not surprising for a dog wearing a full-length black fur coat in the summertime. After that we settled for walking around the block a couple times as our regular walk, and he did turn out to be a magnet for attention—thanks to him I met every little kid and senior citizen on my block. So much for hotties.
Really, though? I didn’t get Dakota in order to attract the hotties. I got Dakota because all the hotties never seemed all that interested in me. Maybe my occasionally paralyzing shyness or generalized cluelessness was to blame for that, but after watching and listening to my friends lament their man problems ad nauseam, I was more inclined (and probably happier than them, I think) to keep my nose in a book and my dog sitting nearby. So I had to vacuum a little more often because of his penchant for shedding—so what? I simply bought a better vacuum cleaner ($86.95 plus tax).
It might seem odd, then, that Dakota was the reason I started dating again.