Monday, December 31, 2012
In my most recent email newsletter, I referred briefly to Jake as the most unnecessary souvenir of 2012, and claimed he was a gift from the city of New York. But this is only partially true. Jake is a strange little 62-pound dog, part basset hound, part mastiff, who was tied to the front of my editor's Harlem apartment building after Hurricane Sandy. I first learned of him in my editor's frantic, middle-of-the-night Facebook posts, and, as a favor, posted his ridiculous mug online, hoping some kind organization would offer to help. I was in the middle of a book tour, so I didn't imagine I'd be the only one to step forward. But it was post Hurricane, and everyone was overwhelmed with stray animals and damage. Jake, because of his "bully" appearance, had been surrounded by cops with their guns drawn when my editor entered the scene. My book, "I'm a Good Dog," is all about changing the way we view dogs that are thought to be dangerous by virtue of just their appearance.
Next thing I knew, the NYACC and the Mayor's Alliance for Animals had conspired to send
He loves kisses. He loves sleeping in my bed. He loves to clear off the kitchen counters when I'm gone, eat holiday cakes that aren't his, unload my municipal trash can in my yard, escape the house looking for me, consider diving through closed windows, squeeze through the fence to terrify the local drug dealers. He is a joy.
But what happens next?