Officially Technological

I'm supposed to be working on my syllabus right now, but in true procrastinator's form.... I'm blogging instead. Brian is diligently working (or watching his mom work) on the inserts for our invitations in Alto right now. He just called to ask a few questions about whether I would prefer the pictures to be black and white or sepia, what's our webpage address, how wide the pictures should be, etc.... So, it sounds like they've got it under control on their end. My end? I'm not under control. My class starts Monday and I haven't even flipped open the cover of the book. Bad Julie.

But this post isn't about my lack of self control. This post is about Sam's lack of self control. Sam, for those of you not familiar with our family, is my (which Brian is always quick to point out when Sam's being bad) 9 and a half year old Jack Russel Terrier. Sam was my sweet-sixteen birthday present from my parents. And has been, if nothing else, a very amusing dog. He's usually pretty decent company if you like ornery pets. He snuggles like nobody's business and will sleep on your lap for years if you'd let him. His biggest flaws are that he is extremely stubborn and that he has little-man syndrome. Big dogs don't scare Sam, he shows agression to all sized dogs. In fact, he prefers a big dog. Apperently he feels more like a man if he's biting the ankles of a big dog rather than a small one.

Anyway, it's been quite an adjustment (and to be frank - not a smooth transition) for Sam to realize (rather abruptly) that he is now under the care of another male - Brian. Since I moved to my brother's house, in Indiana, Sam has been living with Brian, and the two of them are getting to know each other. So, a few days ago, I went over to Brian's, after he went to work, to get some stuff done and because Brian called in a hurry to tell me that he didn't have time to take Sam out. So, I went over, took Sam out, at which time he did not go... uh.... (how to put this delicately) number two. So, I was at Brian's all day and took Sam out several times none of which did he manage to go number two. Then, when I had to go to work, I put Sam in his kennel (because he hadn't gone number two), and Brian got home around 9 and took him out for a nice, long walk. They turned a corner and there was a big, black dog standing there. Immeadiately Sam starts to pull and strain and bark and make his hair stand up. And the big dog saw Sam and then there was something like a fight that Brian had to get in the middle of and grab my dog, kick the black dog off his leg and go running back down the street. Of course, Brian felt Sam's life was in jepordy (not to mention his own), so he's trying to make his escape and what does Sam do? Sam stopped in the nearest driveway to go number two. Obviously Sam has no appreciation for the grave peril in which his tender life hung in the balance.

But that's not all! Oh no, there's more. One of Sam's rules (he only has about 2 rules - neither of which he follows religiously) is that he's not allowed to stay out of his kennel while no one's home if he hasn't gone both number one and two when we took him out. His best bet is to get it over with first thing in the morning, and he knows this but he still doesn't care much for our rules. So, the day after the black dog day, Brian took Sam potty in the morning and Sam kinda lowered his bottem like he was going to sit down. Then he looked over his shoulder to Brian who was thinking to himself, "Is he trying to pretend like he's going number two?" Sure enough, Sam got back up and bolted to the door like he was all done.

MORAL: Sam is not to be trusted. Within twelve hours he almost killed Brian by leisurely doing his business mid-flight, and tried to pshyc him out by pretending to go to the bathroom when he didn't.