The Big Reveal

Momma and I have news.  We are publishing a book based on my Blog.  It will be called Lina Unleashed – a sort of “woof all” about my first two years with her.  As you might guess, Momma is behind this project – it is her latest scheme to try make a dollar off me.

And that might be hard to do.  You see, Momma has decided against sending my manuscript off to big publishing houses in hopes of having it plucked out of obscurity to become a bestseller and make oodles of money.  (“We are going to circumnavigate New York, Lina.  No stacks of rejection letters for us.  They don’t know talent when they see it anyway.”)  No, we are going to make (or lose) money the new-fashioned way – we are going to self-publish.  (Translation:  the book doesn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell of being picked up, so we have no choice but to self-publish.)  Just woofin’.

The challenge with making money off self-published books, of course, is that it costs the budding author an arm and a leg (or “a leg and a leg” as I might put it), to bring the book to fruition.  In other woofs, you pay the publisher an exorbitant fee and must sell tons of books just to break even.  Nevertheless, Momma has deluded herself into believing that this could be our big break and that it is worth pursuing.  (“We just have to work extra hard on the marketing, Lina!”)  In fact, she already has visions of taking me on Fox News (“The curvy couch, Lina!”) to promote Lina Unleashed, and maybe a chance to espouse some of her crazy right-wing views to the hosts and viewers!  I, for one, would prefer the Today Show and Matt Lauer, but Momma says no – too biased.  (That from a Fox fan.)

Anyway, I’m afraid the book train has left the station and there’s no turning back.  I have submitted the manuscript and we have moved on to the design phase.  Momma’s big suggestion/contribution to the design so far:  to put tiny pink paw prints at the beginning of every chapter.  That’ll make it jump off the shelf, right?

The Photo Shoot

Apparently a big part of book design is creating an attention-grabbing cover.  To that end, Momma took me on a photo shoot last Monday to capture that perfect cover photo. I resisted, dreading the thought of posing for a million pictures and all of the accompanying rigamarole. However, Momma insisted, pawntificating that “the photo on the cover is the key to selling books, Lina.”

Momma was very excited about the shoot, “picturing” us running through tall grass and wildflowers with the wind blowing through our hair/fur and sunlight in our faces, looking at each other lovingly.  I know what you’re thinking, and yes, Momma had decided she would be part of the shoot.  In fact, most of the morning that day was taken up with her selecting just the right outfit.

It turns out that I was right to be dubious about the shoot, by the way.  Rather that taking us to that grassy meadow, the photographer had us meet her at a vacant lot in a rather rundown (who knew?) part of Naples.  Upon our arrival, the first thing I noticed was all of the broken glass and trash, including a discarded tennis shoe, scattered on the lot.  The next thing I noticed was a big red and white “No Trespassing” sign – standing there as plain as day and impossible to miss.

I was apparently the only one who saw it, however, because the photographer and Momma plowed right ahead as if we owned the place.  At this point, I was sensing that this was not going to go well as you can tell by the look on my face. 

What is that old saying – a picture is worth a thousand woofs?  Anyway, after a few preliminary shots of Momma and me, the photographer led us even deeper into the lot, looking for the perfect background. Momma had taken me off leash in anticipation of just the right impromptu photo.  Having no choice, I followed along.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a man marching toward us. He was carrying a clip board and wearing a shirt with the words “Animal Control Services” emblazoned on his back.

The animal control officer was quite angry.  He fairly shouted at the photographer and Momma that we were on private property and trespassing and asked, didn’t we see the sign?!  (Uh, yes.)  He further informed them that the dog (me!) was also trespassing and was not on a leash and therefore in violation of the law.  (I was the innocent party here – the victim – and now it appeared that I was the one in the most trouble.)  Would I be paw-cuffed?  Hauled away in a paddy wagon?  Could I get off with probation?  Where was Uncle Chuck, Esquire, when I needed him?

Finally, after apologies and explanations (huh?),  the officer ordered us off the property:  “Just leave right now and no charges will be filed.”  Do you see now why I didn’t want to do the photo shoot?

As we left the scene of the crime, Momma tried to make light of being busted:  “Well, Lina, that was your first brush with the law!” as though it was just a fun rite of passage that every dog should get to experience – and that there would be many more to follow. Momma was a little nervous herself, though and hastily loaded me into the car.

After brushing the burrs out of my fur, we motored on to a park to finish the shoot.  Which kind of “begs” the question, doesn’t it – why didn’t we go here in the first place?? In the end, we did get some great photos and Momma, the marketing expert, insisted that I include one here (“It’s called a tease, Lina.”)

What can be next – Lina Unleashed, the movie?  God help me.

Lina, Indie Writer and Perp

WOOFDA!

Momma and I have been through a rather ruff patch.  Momma is recovering from a concussion and I am still recovering from the election.  I am not sure which is worse.  In any case, I’ve been busy taking care of Momma and trying to get my affairs in order to avoid possible deportation to Australia. Even though I’m not from there, President Trump probably thinks I am.  Just woofing.

Momma’s troubles started when she sustained a concussion in January while having lunch in Naples.  (I am going to go easy here on Momma because of her weakened state, but I can’t help but point out that if she stayed home more, these things wouldn’t happen.) Anyway, it was pretty bad and Momma was scared.  I did my part by giving her tons of face licks and waking her up every two hours the first night.  (I’ve heard that’s important for some reason and I happen to be good at it.)

Although Momma is better now, she did have some effects from the big bang to her head. For example, she has problems with her memory – nothing new here, but the concussion brought things to a whole new level.  It also brought a built-in excuse for every time Momma can’t remember something:  “Oh sorry, I don’t remember – I’ve had a concussion, you know,” a refrain I am likely to hear for the rest of my life.  Momma even thinks her personality has changed.  Out of respect for her condition, I’m not even going to woof a comment.

Not that I’m taking it lightly, but there has also been a silver lining to her injury. Because Momma was not able – in fact advised – not to use her brain much (again – no comment), she was forced to keep her television viewing to a minimum.  Since her programs are pretty much limited to Fox News and its jubilant reporting on Trump’s victory, this was a welcome relief to me.

In fact, Momma was told not to do much of anything – to just rest and relax.  She had little patience for that, though, and after a couple of weeks of no shopping malls or socializing, turned to shopping online.  Since Momma already has more than enough stuff, she began ordering crazy things that she did not need.

For example, one day she ordered a Bose speaker to place in her golf cart.  She had decided that she wanted to play music while she golfed – just like the really cool girl with the great personality in her golf league.  (I think Momma was also secretly hoping that her new personality would be just like Cool Girl’s.)

When Momma received her speaker and its corresponding little blue case – she purposely didn’t pick pink so Cool Girl wouldn’t know Momma was copying her – she opened the box, eager to get the music going!  Like all things technical or electronic, though, Momma hit a few roadblocks along the way.

She had the speaker now, but where would the music come from?  There was her iPhone, but she was pretty sure that she had only about two songs stored in it (one being her ring tone).  Someone had told her to download Pandora and pick her favorite kind of music, but that involved more than one step, and thus beyond her capabilities – especially now, after the concussion.

Next, Momma thought of her iPawd.  She knew that it contained all of her favorites, but she didn’t know if the cord connecting it to her car would fit the Bose speaker.  When she got to the car, Momma saw that it wouldn’t work – it did not have the little pointy end that she would need for the receptacle in the Bose.

Well, she thought, Amazon will have the cord I need – they have everything.  After an extensive search on Amazon and Google, however, Momma could not find such a cord. Now she was stumped.  Then just before she dialed up her (long suffering) IT guy, Gregg, a light bulb went off in her head (and not just because of the concussion).  She suddenly realized that the speaker might work without a cord.  After all, she didn’t remember Cool Girl having a stupid cord dangling around the golf cart!

Long story short (and this one has gone on way too long), Momma was able to set up her phone and make the Bose work!  And miracle of miracles – all of her favorite music magically appeared on her phone when she clicked on the little “eighth note” app symbol.  (“It’s all in the clouds these days, Lina” she pronounced, without any idea what she was talking about.)

When Momma realized there was absolutely nothing else on earth she could think of to buy for herself, she turned to shopping for me.  After ruling out several good devices like Pet Chatz, a gadget that really would allow her to communicate with me in her absence – unlike the stupid Tweet machine, she settled on the Pooch Selfie (“for the perfect selfie with your pet”).

I hate to be one to point paws, but I’m pretty sure the only reason she got it was because it was cheap (no, the concussion did not change that part of her personality).  The Pooch Selfie is a colorful squeak ball that sits in a plastic clamp and attaches to Momma’s phone. It was advertised to “keep dogs attention” (I know – the punctuation!), and would be “fun and easy to use.”

When Momma took a closer look at the new gadget, however, she realized that she was meant to be in the photo with me.  (Did she really think that I could take my own selfie??) Anyway, she dreaded the thought of a close up, but she needn’t have worried.  This blurry mess is as close as we got to “the perfect selfie.”

Just when I thought things might be getting back to normal – Momma was slowly become herself again (I think – but it’s hard to tell with the new personality and all), and the hubbub about the election was dying down, the Academy Awards took place.  Not that we watched them – that is forbidden at our place.  When Momma saw the mix up about the best picture award winner the next morning, however, she pounced!  “Good God, Lina,” she cried, “they can’t even get that right, and they’re telling us how to vote???”  Followed by, “Maybe the Russians did it.”

I think she’s back.

Lina, Still in Recovery Mode (and in La La Land)

WOOFDA!