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Let's Panic: The Book!

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How to Endure and Possibly Triumph Over the Adorable Tyrant
who Will Ruin Your Body, Destroy Your Life, Liquefy Your Brain,
and Finally Turn You
into a Worthwhile
Human Being.

Written by Alice Bradley and Eden Kennedy

Some Books
I'm In...

Sleep Is
For The Weak

Chicago Review Press

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Let's Panic

The site that inspired the book!

At LET'S PANIC ABOUT BABIES, Eden Kennedy and I share our hard-won wisdom and tell you exactly what to think and feel and do, whether you're about to have a baby or already did and don't know what to do with it. → 

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I was writing the other day when a character went and did something I didn't expect. I have heard of this happening, this characters-behaving-as-if-they-had-free-will phenomenon, and I always assumed it was bullshit. I thought it was like when writers spoke of the Muse descending upon them and the Lord spaking through their fingertips in many tongues. How could something I write be unexpected when I wrote it? I called mystic bullshit on the whole idea.

And yet, there it was: one of my characters did a thing, and someone else responded, and before I knew it events were occurring that I never planned or thought about, and then also, lo, things didst become clear that before were driving me crazy. Frustratingly, the Thing that Happened (I know I'm being vague, forgive me) was awfully dark, and I'm trying to write a funny book, character, so thanks for making my job harder. Still, it was cool.

Also it was weird. It was Memorial Day, and it was beautiful out, and I was inside and I felt weird. My characters were running amok without my permission. I don't know about this book, I don't know if it works; all I know is on that day, it showed signs of life, and it was unnerving and great. But weird. I needed to get out. Henry and Scott were out, and Charlie the Dog was standing there staring at me, wondering why the hell I was staring at a metal object for hours at a time when there were so many smells out there, so much to pee on.

These days Charlie usually makes it about half a block before he does his thing and we're heading back home. He is old as fuck. He's healthy, but he's fifteen. (Or sixteen? Unclear.) His back legs are giving him some troubles, he's totally deaf and mostly blind, and other dogs confound him. So we make it a few feet from our house, then we head back and he limps up the stairs. But on this day, I thought, what the hell, let's try to make it to Prospect Park. It's a few blocks from our house, and we haven't been there in a while. I didn't think he could do it.

I had to more or less drag him the first two blocks, mostly because he is driven to pee on anything he encounters, but also because it takes him forever and he was limping and I felt like I was possibly overdoing it. But when we got within a block of the park, he figured out what was up. He stopped lollygagging. His slightly jerky walk turned into a trot, and as we entered the park, he broke into a run. I did not expect this. He would stop to sniff other dogs and canter in circles around them, then tear ass away as I struggled to keep up. People laughed at us. I laughed at us. The farther into the park we got, the faster he ran.

That's when he caught me off-guard and took off, the leash trailing behind him. Of course he's deaf, so he couldn't have heard me shouting for him even if I managed it, which I did not, as I was laughing too hard. There were tons of people around; I knew I'd get him back one way or another, like maybe if a young girl grabbed him as he sprinted right into her path, which he did, and she did.

The girl and her dad were highly amused by the two of us: Charlie was prancing and sneezing (he sneezes when he gets excited) and I was trying to catch my breath from both exertion and the inability to stop laughing. I told them how old he was, and they were appropriately impressed. Charlie submitted to their attentions, then puked in that off-hand way only a dog can pull off: whoa, something spilled out of my face, I feel fantastic now, do you have snacks for me? The two nice strangers who saved my dog took that as their opportunity to wave goodbye, so we made our way back, Charlie straining to run again, me holding tightly to his leash, wondering what else could possibly surprise me.

Charlie, post-run. 

Reader Comments (31)

Oh, Alice... I just love your Charlie. What a cool guy. My dog is about 12 (13? He was a shelter dog, so we're not 100% sure), and also does the excited sneezing thing. He's such a wonderful pain in my ass; he won't stay out of the cat box, he is IMPOSSIBLE to walk because he chokes himself the entire time and literally drags me through town, he licks himself very loudly and exuberantly, and he relentlessly begs for food (and will steal it off your plate if you turn your head for 30 seconds). But, he's also the most loving, loyal creature I've ever known. I love your Charlie stories, because he reminds me so much of my Doc. Keep 'em coming!

June 13, 2013 | Unregistered CommenterEmily K

A roller-coaster of happy and sad while reading this. Happy he found his legs for a brief moment and sad it was only for a brief moment.

June 17, 2013 | Unregistered CommenterJill V.

Our dog (Portia) is also very old, but periodically has these bursts of energy (like when I came home after being gone for four days). Its as if she forgets, just for a moment, that she's 105 in people years......
She has kind of forgotten about going outside to poop sometimes, and she isn't eating much - getting skinnier and skinnier, but she still seems happy - and wakes up every morning to greet us and the children. With that kind of attitude, none of us are ready yet to say goodbye.......

June 17, 2013 | Unregistered Commenterelsiroomom

Hello Alice -- just thought I'd drop in and loved this post. I can smell, taste, hear and see the day. I think I can even feel Charlie straining at the leash in my hand. You just made me miss my sweet old Shelby who I rescued at three months old and put to sleep when her stomach flipped inside of her when she was 16. Fifteen years together. She was a shy, unassuming dog who still managed to slip her big, purple chow tongue in my mouth when I least expected it. And I always knew she was happy when she rubbed her ears with both paws. Man these needy little eating, sniffing, squirel-chasing, pooping machines can make you happy.

Smiling at Charlie's antics (and those characters of yours! Behave!), since my old lady Lab (15) occasionally drags me on a walk far beyond her usual capabilities. No running anymore; not even a cantor in her bag of tricks, but just that raw determination to sniff everything that needs sniffing. Dogs are seriously awesome.

June 18, 2013 | Unregistered CommenterWombat Central

Good Post.

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