This weekend was filled to the brim with stuff to do. The dogs unfortunately tend to suffer the most when we’re so busy.

Sean would leave for ComicCon as early as 8:30 or 9 every morning and I would head out at about 1 or 2pm. But we’d be gone until midnight, sometimes later.

So when I finally would get home, 10 hours later, you’d think they’d be ecstatic to have me home, right? Yeah, not so much. It was as though Luna was so angry that I had left her all day, that my punishment was to be ignored (after their walks and food, of course).

At first, her little plan was foiled…because after a long day of dealing with comic book crap, the last thing I wanted was a needy dog in my face constantly. But by the third night…I was starting to get worried. If I walked over to Luna, she’d get up and walk to the other end of the room. If I went to pet her, she turn her head away. At one Point, I moved her dog bed over beneath my feet near the couch so that she was facing me (and I could rub her belly with my foot) and she stood up and turned her body around so that her back was to me. I know my dog is seriously pissed when she won’t accept a tummy scratch.

And while normally Luna is a complete absent-minded ding dong, today she seemed much more like an old, cranky lady–a neurotic gazelle who listens to music written by men who wear mascara, reads Hemingway and prefers that you wash your hands before touching her. I could quite literally see this dog looking at my cheap Old Navy pj’s and lifting her nose in a gesture of snobbery regarding the fact that I wasn’t sporting Chanel sleepwear.

Red, on the other hand, was his typical, needy self. He’d crawl onto the couch with me, roll over to show me his belly, like SCRATCH IT, SCRATCH IT, YOU KNOW YOU WANT TO, DO IT, DO IT, his tongue lolling happily out the side of his mouth, his tail beating rhythmically as it wags in anticipation of everything the night before him has to offer. Like maybe a leisurely evening of butt-licking. If he could speak English he’d ask for a Corona. Every moment with Red is filled with the noise of his body. He is a dog that wants to be with you all the time–NEEDS to be with you all the time. One who will look at you as you get up to walk into the other room like, “Are you going over there? Because I could go with you. No really. It’s no problem. Here, let me walk right next to your legs, and when you stop I’m going to stand right underneath you and stare at you until you give in and notice once again just how adorable I am.

And there is this constant buzzing hum of having Red in the house. What is that noise? That’s Red, existing. What about that one? That’s Red jumping down off the couch, although I know, it does sound a lot like someone just dropped a giant tree stump off of the balcony.

And then there’s Luna–who this weekend is silent and moody and all, “Dude…step away, we talked about the touching.”

Luna has a lot of nicknames. Luna Belle was her original name, but I soon learned that was much too feminine and lady-like for a dog like Luna. Then, my friends at the dog park started calling her Lunatic…which turned into The Tic. We’d walk up to the park and I’d hear Michael, the owner of a sweet golden retriever, say “Uh oh…here comes The Tic!”

But the nickname that stuck the most with me was Tuna. Luna has some serious separation anxiety and for about 3 months, she just could not handle it when I left for work. She would chew everything from my dvd’s to the coffee table. One evening, I came home from work to discover that she had somehow gotten my cans of albacore tuna and punctured a hole in every one of them. Tuna juice covered my hardwood floors. From that day forward, she was Luna Tuna…or just Tuna for short.

Anyone who watches The Office might know that Jim is called Big Tuna by Andy. After seeing that episode, Luna Tuna morphed into Big Tuna.

So, I was posing Luna for this picture…only Luna’s not really used to this much attention. I kept trying to balance the can of tuna on her tummy, only Luna was really not feeling it. The can was too cold and she had to much energy. And every time she’d get up and knock the can off her stomach, I’d firmly say “No! Stay!” and place it back on her belly. This was a lot for my little autistic dog to handle and as a result, she squatted and peed. It was the first pee in the new apartment. A sacred moment. So, I settled for this image of the can of tuna at her feet.

When Luna gets tired…like, REALLY tired…this is how she sleeps. With her paws covering her face. The only thing I can figure is that the stress of the move completely tuckered her out. She slept for like 3 days straight when we got to the new place. And did so without ANY PROZAC!

I hate the way the dog’s eyes glow when you use a flash. Sometimes, there’s just no other option with a point and shoot camera.

Anyway, the poor pups could NOT HANDLE all the packing and moving. I’ve never heard two dogs howl more than when we left them to move the boxes we had packed. It was as though they feared we were NEVER COMING BACK FOR THEM.

And of course we’ll come back for Red. Luna, however has something to be worried about.

This past Saturday we took Luna and Red to our favorite hiking spot in Long Island. Before you enter the trail, there’s a fenced in dog park. Normally, because Luna’s so incredibly aggressive with other animals, we never even attempt to enter these. On Saturday, though, we were so lucky to find the place completely empty. Mostly because few people are crazy enough to go outside for long periods of time when it’s THAT COLD OUT.

So, with one of standing guard at the gate and her muzzle in tact just in case another dog and owner were to creep up without us realizing, we let them loose. And Luna hasn’t had that much fun in a long time. She was obsessed with the football and carried it with her. Sean and I took turns kicking it to the other end of the dog run. And when she brought it back to us, she would rest one paw on the top of the ball as if holding it for me, the punter.

And after a few times, we managed to teach her the command, “Laces Out!” Upon hearing these words, she’d do this:

And while she’s not nearly at a point yet where she could play for the Giants…she may be able to manage a spot on the Jets.

I just picked Luna up from the kennel this morning. Whenever I am away from her for a week or so, I always forget that she’s really not that big of a dog. About 35-40 lbs. She barely comes to my knees. So this morning when I picked her up, I reached down and wrapped my arms around her tiny body. As I bent, she thrashed and knocked her hard skull into the bridge of my nose, making me drop her leash. She took off, running in circles around the lobby of the veterinarian’s office and it took three of us to finally catch her. Standing there with my nose throbbing, her leash in one hand and her Prozac in the other, I realized her size has nothing to do with the kind of dog she is. She may be petite in size, but that personality of hers can match any 90 lb Lab or Great Dane or Boxer.

On another one of our hikes, Sean discovered this tree which had fallen into another tree. Having learned NOTHING from his father’s near death experience with trees, he climbed up and onto it. And the next thing I know, I feel a tug on the leash. Luna had jumped up after him and followed him! I tell you…that dog has been playing us for a fool…she’s not really retarded. She just gets away with a lot more if we think she is.

One big silhouette. And I have to say–she was quite disturbed at the fact that I woke her to take this photograph. She was even more disturbed that no details of her face came out in the photograph. Oh wait–that was me.

I am thankful that Luna hasn’t attacked any other dogs since February. I am also thankful that none of her victim’s owners have sued me.

Although I miss home and wish I were with my family over the holidays, I am thankful to have such amazing friends in the city who take me in like the pathetic orphan I am. I am also thankful that these friends are AMAZING cooks.

I am thankful that I have not yet burnt down my kitchen making side dishes for today.

And lastly, I’m thankful for my crazy family…without whom, I’d be totally sane. And really–who needs sanity?

Happy Thanksgiving everybody!

Next thing you know, I’ll be coming home from work to find her in a bubble bath surrounded by candles and a glass of red wine.

This book, The Shiksa Syndrome, is my friend and mentor-like person, Laurie Graff’s (You Have to Kiss A Lot of Frogs, Looking for Mr. Goodfrog) latest book. We don’t get a chance to see each other often, but she is totally a cool woman and a great writer with a very striking voice.

I just started it tonight (even though it’s been out for a few weeks now…I’m unemployed, people! Cut me some slack!) and I think it’s just so cute and clever. Even though I’m not Jewish ( I guess that makes me a shiksa, right?!), it’s entertaining regardless of your religion. And though it’s definitely written with women in mind, I think that some boys could enjoy this as well. Dogs, too apparently, because Luna seems to be ENTHRALLED with it.