You're going to have to excuse us if American Nerd seems a little rushed and sloppy this week. The problem, you see, is that American Nerd HQ has been invaded by a 24-pound whirlwind whose sacred mission is to eat cat turds. It also delights in depriving humans of sleep. Evil? You bet. Just look at this dollop of villainy:

OK, OK, it's actually pretty cool-- if exhausting-- to have a puppy. Unfortunately, between all the walking and pooping and cajoling about pooping and sit-teaching and carefully-crafted psychological ploys to establish humans at the top of the pack, I'm just too strung out to write a proper essay about getting the dog. Instead, we're left with a bunch of bullet-points:

- Wow, my respect for the people I know raising baby humans has gone way, way up. Like, I knew that it was a lot of work for them... but it's one thing to know that objectively, and a very different thing to experience a watered-down version of it subjectively. On the other hand, I doubt their infants are as mobile as the puppy, at least for now.

- I'm actually really impressed with how adaptable dogs are. Freja's lived in the house for five days as of this writing, and already understands and follows around 90% of the rules. I'm pretty sure that if I, at the age of 6 (my wild-ass guess for the age equivalence of a 4-month-old puppy) had been forced to live with a pack of wolves, it would've taken me at least a week to get up to speed.

- You would have to be one hard-hearted bastard not to enjoy Puppy Play Hour at the obedience school.

- A high point so far: two cats and a newly-introduced dog reenect the last scene of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly on the living room floor. You could practically hear the Morricone theme music coming out of the air.

- And, as far as those cats go... I'm impressed with the way Ella, a middle-aged cat with no front claws, has managed to thoroughly dominate a dog twice her size through sheer will power. By now, the dog often follows her around at a respectful distance and often sits and looks at her worshipfully. I wouldn't be surprised at all to go home and see the dog going through her sit/down/up routine for the cat, in the hopes of impressing her.

- When I mentioned that I'd gotten a dog, everyone started asking me what I thought of Cesar "Dog Whisperer" Millan. So here's what I think of Cesar Millan: I haven't watched his show, but I've read his book. And I think he's guilty of oversimplifying some things, of handing out impossible-to-follow advice (you can't just say "don't allow whining" without laying out how one should actually stop the dog from whining), and of frequently dipping his toes into the water of New Age silliness (I got sick of hearing about how every dog was put in our lives to teach us a specific lesson; I assume he'd tell me that Freja is in my life to tell me that cat shit tastes really good). But, that said, I do like a lot what he has to say... I think people in general would do well to remember that dogs aren't people, don't think like people, and don't need the same stuff as people.

- For whatever reason, lots of things in the dog world give me a sort of Road to Wellville (I'm thinking book, not movie) feeling. Cesar Millan's book, for instance, sounded almost Kelloggesque whenever he'd veer off into emphatic black-and-white statements about how wellness works. And the food and treats we've been getting her are made by a brand called Nutro. Come on... Nutro totally sounds like some 1903 cereal company in Battle Creek.

- Given how much walking this dog requires, I think I'm going to know my neighborhood really, really well after a month. Just in the past five days, I've discovered a couple of businesses that I never knew were there.

- Ever seen the Simpsons episode where Bart is trying to get Santa's Little Helper to play frisbee, and the dog just sits there and lets the frisbee whack into its face? That really happens. And it's hard not to laugh, even if you feel evil afterwards.

- It just occurred to me that I have yet to do the "who's a good dog? Who's a good girl? YOU'RE a good girl!" routine with Freja, which probably means I'm a shitty dog-parent.

- Several times now, I've been outside with Freja while she goes to the bathroom, praised her effusively for going outside, and then gotten stuck in that mode of speaking. The cats just look at me with contempt when I talk to them that way. My wife's not down with it at all.

- I'm a horrible pet-talker. I've always talked to the cats-- I carry on conversations with them while I clean the house, make up songs about them, bounce essay ideas off of them, and so on. So far, I can't break myself of this habit while I'm walking the dog; I assume the people in my neighborhood think I'm a harmless lunatic as I walk past their houses carrying on a conversation with the dog.

- Ever seen a dog with an impressive vertical jump try to catch moths in the back yard at night? Comedy gold, my friend.



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