Concentration

« Otava parked in the park. »

You never really appreciate how much concentration is required when sitting on the toilet until you have a furry beast who is tall enough to rest his head on your knees, has big brown eyes and whines in intervals perfectly timed to prevent you from succeeding in your moment of repose. It's also a challenge to stifle a giggle while issuing a throaty and stern, "NO!", when he bores quickly and seeks entertainment by chewing on my underwear or going for the TP, pre- or post-wipe. And I thought that I was the one who was easily entertained. I have no time to relax, no time to myself, not even in the toilet. :)

Otava is a bit of a silly puppy since he is very reluctant to go out the door to go outside but, once he is outside he wants to go to the park and when he's in the park he doesn't want to go back home. I'm not entirely sure how to correct this sort of behaviour since dragging a dog who is going to weigh more than you will in a few months is not an option and he won't be fooled by offers of treats, either. Honestly, I think he's pretty irate at being separated from 2 of his sisters who kept him company until he left home. Right now he's lying at my feet under the desk, quiet and contented, giving no indication of the rather implacable monster he was last night after the dog park was deserted and he didn't get a romp. He's a good puppy overall, but it's clear that he's going to be a lot of work in the next few months to make sure he doesn't become a problem child.

The dog park protocol is just like the kiddie playground protocol where parents chat and keep a watchful eye on their little darlings to be sure that they aren't precocious homicidal maniacs. Otava is at a difficult age since he's too big for the tiny dogs, too small for the bigger puppies and dogs, but he loves to play and tries to fit in just the same. Size doesn't always matter as there have been a few wee dogs who have managed to play rather well with him. We're starting to get to know who has which dogs and their names. I wish there were some sort of playdate sign-up board for dogs of similar size so that we could meet dogs he could play well with at a regular time every day since the look on his face when the park is empty just breaks my heart. He looks at his reflection in windows and the oven door and he whines and licks at it which is precious, too. I wish we had enough space for two.

Winter has finally come to Finland with -15C, snow and wind. I'm still wearing the waxed jacket from the warmer seasons and I will note that waxed canvas becomes stiff as cardboard around -10C which isn't really a desirable feature in a winter jacket. :)

And, since WLM didn't translate the article from last Sunday's Sanomat for the International Edition this week, Roman Schatz has a new book coming out in mid-February published by WSOY's boutique imprint Johnny Kniga called Suomesta, Rakkaudella in Finnish and From Finland, With Love in English. The article mentioned that he is a German man who has lived here for close to twenty years and wrote a column for a lacklustre English publication in Helsinki until the readers complained about his opinions which, from what I surmised from the story, contained certain truths about expatriate life that are difficult for some to come to grips with. One particular quote I found to be rather astute was that he said that he didn't consider himself a German anymore, but also that he wouldn't ever be quite Finnish either. This sort of 'stateless' identity is common for those who have left the land of their birth for another which may come to feel like home but will always have qualities of otherness to it unlike the place where you spent your formative years. There are very, very few books written by expats who are in it for a lifetime and not just a short assignment abroad, especially in Finland, so I'm hoping that the book is as good as the Sanomat makes me believe it will be.