Coffee stains

"All knowledge, the totality of all questionsand answers, is contained in the dog."
-Franz Kafka

My dachsund became a woman this week.

No, not in any magical, mystical "poof" moment where she turned into a living, breathing, beautiful human female--a la "The Frog Prince" with the roles reversed--but rather, she got her period.

I didn't know dogs did...that. Nor have I ever been exposed so explicitly to the menstrual cycle. She's a coffee-colored weiner by the highly original name of Coffee. She has more personality than most persons I know. And now I've come to discover that Coffee, or "Automatic Drip" as I now call her, has inadvertedly ruined a blanket, a couple of towels and a sweater. Like all of us, she likes to sit and sleep on soft surfaces, including blankets, towels and sweaters.

My cocker, on the other hand, has been spayed. Unfortunately, I fear that they may have simultaneously lobotomized the poor thing for she simply sits and wags that nub of a tail with a huge doggy-smile on her face, not a care in the world.

There is not a chance of a frisky male dog jumping the tall, cinder-block wall that surrounds my back yard to knock up Coffee. But the blood stains that have my apartment looking like a Pollock painting are a tad bothersome. My fear is this--what if, along with taking away her ability to reproduce, surgery also takes away that personality I adore so much. This is, no shit, my daughter, that I'm talking about (yes, I'm one of those dog owners nobody can stand).

I'll have to wait till this ends and figure it out then. In a few months, when this inevitably happens again, I'll know how long it lasted the first time around and maybe by then I'll have a game plan.