Because she isn't dead.

Today, as many of you realize, is July 11th. It is the day that copper mines were legalized in Chile, the birthday of Kyrill, Prince of Preslav, and the deathday of Bob Sheppard, New York Yankees and New York Giants announcer. But most importantly (not really, but this is what I'm going to write about), this is the day that my beloved doggy turns one. I've been trying to write something about her for a very long time (this post will have no flow at all), because she's something of an adventure, and it's actually kind of exciting to me that I finally get to post this.

So. In honor of her living, this is Coda's life story:

Once upon a time, there were some dogs of nondescript origin that had a baby, and then a bunch of people adopted her, and now she's ours.

Now for the nonsense.

Coda is a very special dog, and I mean that in every sense of the word. When we got her, she almost knew how to sit and lie down, and was a little potty trained. (In the long run, we all know that there really is no middle ground between "not potty trained" and "potty trained.") Since her arrival, however, her ability for tricks has expanded, and she is now capable of

• only pooping in the grass.
• only peeing in the grass.
• letting us bathe her.
• running through the poop after her bath.
• sitting (she can't lie down anymore).
• shaking paws.

When I first met Coda, she growled at me very viciously, because she had been adopted while I was away being a studious little collegiate. She could be a very promising guard dog, as she holds her ground up until she sniffs you, and then immediately becomes your best friend. So if she never sniffed the burglar, it would be fine.

Coda is, like every good American, of questionable descent, and no one knows exactly which breed she came from. She's probably part lab and part shepherd, as she looks exactly like a lab, but with a more pointed nose and ginormous bat ears that point up when she becomes interested in looking into our windows. She's black. Which contrasts nicely with the rest of the albinos that live in this house.

I call her lots of things (dog, Coda, puppy, sweetie, honey, it's like she's my child and this is kind of weird). I usually just let whatever name rolled off my tongue be the one I called her by, and hoped that she would realize it was her if I used my ridiculously high pitched quirky dog owner voice. You know that voice, the one you only use for dogs and babies. The one that every person uses to say, "Come here puppy! Come on! Ohh who's a good boy!?" whether they're talking to a baby Labrador or a wolf. But yeah. It's for that reason that most of the names I gave her sounded idiotic, and also the reason that I somehow ended up always calling her Boog. Or Boogy. Sometimes I mess up and call her Boob. Hopefully she doesn't start responding to that.
...not like we say that a lot...whatever.

Coda has a lot of gifts (you can refer back to her list of tricks). The other day she ripped the screen door, and we had to replace it, so she ripped it again. Also, whenever we eat (actually, whenever I eat, because she's figured out that I'm a sucker), she gazes at you pensively until you "drop" something, and if you decide not to "drop" something, or if she's unsatisfied with the amount you've dropped, she'll just keep gazing, and eventually rest her paw on your knee, and if that doesn't work, you have no soul. (They don't call them "puppy dog eyes" for no reason.) When you go to give her a treat, she immediately sits down and holds out her paw for us to shake because she's so used to what we expect of her. Also, before this summer, when I didn't spend as much time living at home, Coda discovered an effective way of using her cuteness and overactive bladder to interrupt all my phone calls with my mother.

Here are some fun facts about Coda: 
1. She's in heat. 
For those of you who don't understand, heat for a dog is like something else for a woman, but it lasts two weeks and only comes twice a year and gets all over your backyard.
2. She's terrified of ducks. I'm serious. 
We have a pool, and whenever the ducks come and land on it to swim around and poop in it, she starts barking for her life and ends up hiding in the side yard with her tail between her legs. Seriously. Once, a brown plastic bag landed on the pool, and she thought it was a duck, and she begged for ten minutes to get inside. It was pretty embarrassing.
3. She likes everyone better than me. 
4. She likes her dog food with ketchup.
5. She's not allowed on the furniture.
6. She takes naps on the couches when we're gone.
7. She is a supremely courageous shot-getter.

I think that's enough rambling for now. Have a nice day.