The real problem, for me, with those breeds isn't that they are more likely to bite or whatever. It's that they have massive fucking jaws and the musculature behind it.

Granted, I don't much like any strange dogs but I have really adored some pits and Rotts once I've met them. Including a (briefly had) neighbor who had the sweetest dog in the world who only ever hurt me because he really, really wanted to climb in my lap and sometimes swing around to get more attention. And those were just tiny things. My parents Goldens have done worse over the years doing the same things, nearly.

That can be true for smaller dogs, too, tho. Scots have the biting power of a German Shepard in their jaws.

My dad is amazing with dogs, though, and I have him to thank for my ability to deal with dogs. None of our dogs ever did anything besides nip a little too hard, and that was when playing tug or keep away, and a stern "NO" was enough to have them ashamed and apologetic. As pups, they would get the "NO" and a finger on the nose if they nipped, much as a mama dog would discipline them.

The only time I have ever seen my dad hit a dog to hurt it was when a kinda feral Dobie wandered into our yard and started a fight with our Husky mix. We lived in the country at that point, and out next door neighbor, a true hillbilly who thought my dad was soft, totally gained respect for my dad when he waded into THAT fight, whacked the Dobie upside the head and grabbed it and restrained it til the neighbor got a horse lead rope and then tied the dog up and called the owner and bitched him out.

We did see that Dobie a couple of time, but he never came into our yard, and he wasn't afraid of my dad, but he never, ever offered dominance to him again. And my neighbor brought that story up ALL the time. Impressed the hell out of him, because that dog had a rep in the hood for being a mean sonofabitch.

I love my Daddy. And he was the best horse trainer. Again, neighbor thought he was soft, because he only used a whip as sound when the horse was training on a lunge line, and my dad's App that he trained from a foal would do ANYTHING on a trail ride for my dad.

I miss horses. I haven't been on one in over 20 years, but I was leading trail rides when I was 8 or 9, and I miss it.

Your dad sounds like a fascinating man, Erin.

smonster, I'm sorry about the dog--maybe this one will get lucky.

Mackinac Island

Somewhere in Time!

Oh, smonster, I meant to say how sorry I was to hear of the heartbreaking results of handing that dog over to animal control. You did your best for him. It's not your fault that you cannot take in every dog that you come across.

Not dead. Just doing a PhD and teaching. Hello, people. Would you like to Wake Up With Fry and Laurie? It's been too long since we did that. [link]

Have a lovely spring break, Hil!

Sorry to hear you had to take the dog to the shelter, smonster. It's great that you rescued it, though.

Wishing you a speedy recovery, Teppy.

I have an amazing GP. He's not very personable (I made a joke yesterday and he just looked at me), but he knows his stuff. I have treatment that's actually working for both my psoriasis and my (look away, men) nasty heavy periods. And he's not complaining about giving me either sleeping pills or painkillers. I'm impressed.

I made the mistake of mentioning John Gottman's ability to predict marriage failure based on the presence of contempt in the relationship. The fellow ran with that and now, I'm trying to show him how he can replace his contemptuous language (learned from his parents) with more honest, productive language.

The what now? This reads to me like he heard this and started using more contemptuous language. Is that right? Was he trying to make his marriage fail? Because if so, "I want a divorce" has a pretty good success rate in the marriage-ending stakes, and is ultimately less damaging.

I am at the airport. I have a bagel. I will sleep more on the plane.

In-laws are once again ensconced in the spare bedroom. Trip to collect them took twice as long as expected due to roadworks, by which time they were wandering free-range in the airport. They're here for six months. Ryan is taking to them again faster than I expected. Perhaps he still has some memory of them, or maybe it helps that we've been showing him the photos of them together in the lead-up.

Still a strong preference for Mummy and Daddy, of course. But it looks like he'll be ok with them looking after him when we're at work.

Oh! and Ryan tried jelly (Jell-O, for Americans) for the first time today! And hated it. There was substantial red jelly mess to clean up. He was, however, quite thrilled to feed it to Daddy instead. I am not sorry to see this. Sugar is not a big part of his diet. He has fresh fruit and yoghurt, and some plain biscuits nowadays; he only drinks water and milk, no fruit juice. It looks like it's working so far. (I seem to recall that his ability to taste bitterness develops around age two, so his current healthy eating habits may well come under fire, but for the moment I think he's developing some good habits.

Better than his Daddy, certainly, who virtually lives on Coke Zero and had no objections whatsoever to being fed jelly by his little boy.

I'm sorry about the stray pitbull, smonster, and I hope he beats the odds.

HKF is at her first sleepover. She took a book in case she woke up early. There haven't been any distress calls, and DH and I are slounging. I remember this feeling, vaguely. It's lovely.

Now to get ready to do Saturday Art class at the co-op.