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Archive for October 18th, 2020

 

It’s the age old question. Just how the heck do you write with an 80 Lb dog in your lap?

Maybe you are on a deadline. It might be self-imposed. Or it’s the one moment in days you can carve out of your busy schedule for ‘you’ time, aka writing. It’s a rare moment. It’s that early morning you woke up despite your best intentions to sleep in on the one and only day you can all week, but your mind or body has other plans and you are up, wide awake, but OMG the house is quiet with everyone else sleeping, so you can actually WRITE. It’s the perfect time for it. Maybe it’s simply that the creative juices are flowing or your muse just bitch-slapped you with an idea that you absolutely must get down right now before you forget it.

And, naturally, at that very moment your dog decides life cannot go on without climbing in your lap, on your desk, on your keyboard, in your face, trying to force play time, squirming and wriggling and won’t take ‘No’ for an answer.

Maybe it’s not an 80 Lb dog. Cat? Baby, toddler, kid, teenager, or partner. Your squawking bird, hamster, pot bellied pig, or other pet. They all have the same goal, to have your 5000% undivided attention.

So, what’s a writer to do? Give them a few minutes of total attention and hope they are happy. Deflection. Here’s a toy, someone else to play with, cookie, boozy latte with extra whipped cream (please only try this with adult humans), send your dog outside in the back yard to, “Go find your rabbit” (just don’t tell them it only exists in the world outside the front living room window).

Meow at them or squeak the squeaky toy until they go mad.

Give them a craft, project, job, or anything you can grasp that might get their attention for five minutes or more.

It’s frustrating, yes. But ultimately you have to realize they are bugging you because they love you and are yearning for your attention like a puppy full of energy and starved for playtime.

In the case of the oversized purse-dog, I find the best solution is to exhaust her with attention. Give her some time of hard play, love, petting, tricks for a cookie, rabbit seeking, and ultimately hope it’s not the super hyper loud frantically playing with the loudest squeaky toy in the house while shrieking and riling the dog up under your feet and impossible to string a single thought together because of the hyper loudness kid who takes her attention next.

And, sometimes, you just have to resolve to having to try to single finger type around an 80 Lb dog in your lap because she really does think she’s the size of her head.

 

Above all else….

Keep writing, my friends.

 

L. V. Gaudet Books:

Vivian Munnoch Books (and Roxy photobomb):

Roxy aka The Big Dumb Bunny

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