We're finally starting to get a routine down. Ginger goes out early and does her business, comes back in and reluctantly lounges for a little while, then eats and is out the door by 6:45. She pulls whomever has her across Sixth Ave. and down West Broadway until she gets to the Soho Grand Hotel.
The Soho Grand has a private dog run for guests and has given us and other neighbors a key to it. Almost every morning the same crew shows up: Ginger, Relic, Tufo and Pico. If we try to take Ginger to a different dog run in the morning she lays flat on the sidewalk and digs in. This dog loves her routine, and since I do, too, I'm good not having to think about where to take her as the sun is coming up.
Pico is a Portuguese Water Dog about her age and tomorrow will be their last romp, at least for now. Pico is moving to California and will be missed as much by Ginger as me. He's a kook of a dog, all paws and limbs and goofiness, and Ginger loves getting nutty with him since he plays as hard as she does.
About an hour and a half in we leave the run, usually with Relic, and Ginger drags us to another hotel, The James, to get a cookie. She's thirty-five pounds of muscle and her paws are all fast motion as she tries to tear up the pavement to get there. The neighborhood dogs go so crazy for The James's cookies I went online and dug around until I found them. Given Ginger is going through a phase where she suddenly decides she doesn't want to walk and lays down on the sidewalk, in a dirt pile, in the middle of Sixth Ave., I pull a piece of one of these cookies out and wave it and she's up and moving.
She's coming along great, but she's growing so fast she's having a hard time making it down the stairs without dribbling urine. It doesn't matter if we take her down every two hours; we get to the foyer and whomever has her buzzes the other to come on down with vinegar and paper towels. We thought it might be a UTI and it turned out she had the start of one, and after two weeks of antibiotics the dribbling didn't go away yet the UTI did. Pit bulls are solid and it's a lot of weight to grow into, so we're hoping this is a growth issue and not something bigger.
The other habit I'm looking forward to her growing out of is her 5 a.m. wake-up. She doesn't want to go out, she just needs reassurance we're still there. I'll flop an arm over the bed and pat her head and she'll curl up and go back to sleep, with my hand if I'll let her. This dog is a real toucher: when I take her downstairs she'll often have her nose in my knee; she sits on my feet or leans against me when we're outside; she sleeps under Joe's feet when he's working and under mine when he's out; and at night if we're on the couch streaming something she'll curl up around his foot or wrap her paws around his ankle. She's quirky in how insecure she is and how bold, but maybe we're all that way.