Local fame going to the dogs

Published in The Fauquier Times-Democrat, Weekend Edition on Fri. 5/18/12.

“A local celebrity.”  That’s how I’ve heard myself described on several occasions now.  (None of these occasions involve me chanting in front of a mirror, thank you.)  It’s the way others have described me.  Each time this happens, I have to turn and check to make sure it isn’t the mayor or the school superintendent standing behind me.  When I hear someone say I’m a local celebrity, I have to laugh.  It would be flattering if it weren’t downright funny. 

People recognize me at the grocery store or at the library or a school event, or wherever my errands and my lethargic legs take me.  They act amazed; yet I don’t know why.  All I do is write some drivel about myself or some embarrassing episodes about my kids.  For this, the editor saves me a spot every week into which I slide at the last possible second.  True, there is the one nice picture of me, which is static and in good control, not packing on pounds or sprouting gray hairs the way the real, living, me is.  I don’t think we’ll change the picture just yet since people can still recognize me as “Are you the lady in the paper?”

My likeness and my words may be in this paper, but I’m no celebrity.  If you want to see a true “local celebrity” in action, drive by my neighborhood any weekday around noon.  The real celebrity is our hyperactive Jack Russell (isn’t that redundant?) terrier, pre-named Betty Lou.  She is the one tugging ahead of me.  I, your humble servant, am the one trudging behind, possibly carrying dog deposits if she has chosen to relieve herself of weighty, pressing matters.  She is groomed and beaming at the world.  I am tired and unkempt, hunched over, and scooping up canine crap into an inverted plastic bag.  Who’s the celebrity?

This dog, I am convinced, is the winner, hands (or paws) down.  She has other people making sure she is fed, groomed, and looking good.  She only goes out in public after careful preparations, chief of these would be the leash.  A leash is to a dog what a public relations manager is to a celebrity.  It keeps them in check and makes sure nothing gets released when it shouldn’t.  Betty Lou also has a personal trainer – several, in fact.  We are not yet certain of the efficacy of the training because it varies dramatically from trainer to trainer.  Some like to blame the incompetence of the trainer, while others (usually said trainer) like to blame the limited intelligence of the dog.  Our canine has no truly useful skills.  I suppose if we lived on farmland and needed her services in tracking down vermin, she might deign to be of service.  But she serves no such purpose in our home.  Basically, her value is to amuse and to entertain.  Again, I make my case that Betty Lou has all the qualifications to be a celebrity.

It is true that our dog happens to be a blogger.  She goes out daily and reads all the posts.  Some pique her interest, and she rushes deeper to get a better sniff of the topic.  These often require a second read-through.  With others, her ears express alarm or dismay at the news and she stands alert for a moment.  No matter how large or small, she always makes sure to post her own response to whatever olfactory remarks the original or previous blogger posted.  She has a set of posts that she reads daily, and she makes sure to leave comments at each of these sites.  I am sure she is well known in the community, even if she has not personally met all of her readers.

Betty Lou also has an unhealthy interest in being well liked by people.  At home, she might lie around and struggle with depression.  She might have a drinking habit (although right now it’s limited to water) that you don’t know about.  She may behave somewhat snappy when tired, or eat all the wrong sorts of foods.  (We once caught her literally walking across the top of the dining table, like some sort of a cat.  Perhaps she had planned to be dancing on the tables in our absence, but I suspect the allure was a someone’s leftovers.  My children are careful to push their chairs in now so she can’t gain access.)  She might be hiding all sorts of bad habits at home, but the moment there is another human hovering in the area, she puts on her best show.

The one thing she can’t stand is other dogs.  Some people say her dog aggression may have to do with her upbringing.  (We got her from a dog shelter.)  Others say it is something about the breed that has to be worked out of them.   In either case, I suspect it is jealousy.  She wants to be the star.  And at home, she is.