A wisdomy kind of post for closing up the year where you will probably get, exactly zero wisdom, but you WILL get giant albino lizards.

I would like to think the way that you end one year is a good predictor for how you start the next one. Because I do believe in spooks, and the powers of tiny little sock monkeys hung superstitiously from the light switch. This is something I just can't deny.

I mean, actually, I could. I could go watch another episode of Nurse Jackie. Nurse Jackie is all about denial. But she is super awesome at the same time. And each episode is only 1/2 an hour. A good amount of time.

But instead, I can't help thinking of the vision I had, in a dream the night before the night before the new year. When Otterpop comes to me in a dream, I listen.

In real life, she's always trying to tell me something, and I'm always telling her to SHUT THE FUCK UP OTTERPOP.

A dog training tip. For dogs that bark a lot, this pretty much does nothing to train them to stop. That's the kind of dog trainer that I am. Something else I can't deny.

Also, perhaps I'm curtailing her in the wisdom department. But I don't think so. I think she just likes to yell. Perhaps something to investigate, when I'm feeling all out of wisdom.

She was quiet in the dream, though. Me and her were time travelers and we had traveled to a land that was all messed up, time and space continuum-wise. Like there were cliff dwellers, where we could view the landscape before the mega mansions had risen across the vista, but there were also restaurants. And bars.

And there were giant albino lizards, that totally looked to me like they would eat dogs.

I watched out for Otterpop's safety, and I used important dog agility words to steer her away from marauding lizards. GO ON, OTTERPOP! GO! GO! GO!

We saw seaside property we could have had for a song, and been bazillionaires, had we been able to hold on to it through time.

We also heard that such seaside property had terrible sewage problems back in the big sewage debacle of some other uspecified era, so then I was happy I didn't actually invest.

I don't know what that all means. But I suspect it's important.

In 2010, me and Otterpop flew to Kentucky to try being champions. Probably Otterpop's favorite part was the part where we stayed in a totally clean hotel room with deluxe bedding and nice carpeting. And chasing a dirty little piece of fur around the parking lot of the big dog show where they were doing lure coursing.

In 2010, I think I figured out that me and Gustavo pretty much suck as an agility team. I can't really train him, I don't handle him well. The way he understands agility skills is just plain weird. But he's my only dog that likes to find me somewhere in the house, hop up into my lap, curl up into a soft, quiet little ball there, and go straight to sleep.

In 2010, Ruby scared me when she couldn't walk. She can walk now again, maybe not as good as she did before or in places like the forest, but she's doing much better. Ruby is a precious gem who sparkles shiny and bright and who I will do everything I can to make sure her life glitters exactly how it should. Not in a Mariah Carey way. In a Ruby way.

I think we may be in for a bumpy ride after the clock flips over it's little plastic card tonight to 2011. But I think that even if there's bumps, and giant albino lizards, all we can do most of the time is just yell GO GO GO. And try to be more like Nurse Jackie.

Except not a drug addict. Or a nurse. You know what I mean.