Tika and I have had a series of discussions, which usually included a brief debate as to whether Adrian Zmed (Johnny Nogerelli in Grease 2) is dead or alive. This debate is quickly ended by a "We should look that up", at which point, we both forget to do so.
Well, I did. Not dead! And still working, which is awesome for him. Speaking of Grease 2, did anyone else notice that Empire Records is an updated version of Bye Bye Birdie? (The tie there is Maxwell Caulfield.)
Other than rescuing Mom and making parallels between movie plotlines, things have been relatively uneventful around here, though, I had an interesting interaction last night.
I was watching my new FAVORITE show (Dark Angel, which is SO bad, it's AWESOME!), and a guy walks up to the door. The dogs bark, which is pretty standard, and I open the door.
It's a sales guy, for a remodeling company offering me a FREE ESTIMATE - that will be good for a year and a half. Provided we do it RIGHT AWAY. As in, let me in your house, and we'll honor the estimate.
Not. A. Chance. Luckily, Niki was totally on board with this plan, and was barking a FEROCIOUS bark at the guy. (When it's a neighborhood kid, I shush him, and he just whines.) At this point, I will tell you that Niki is behind the baby gate, and the sales guy is perfectly safe, provided he stays on the stoop. (Niki doesn't like strange men, unless they are expressly allowed in. Good dog!)
So, while this guy is trying to sell me on remodeling my house, he is visibly agitated at the Vicious Man-Killing Dog (Niki) barking at him. (Not to make light of what Elphie does, but she was quiet, and had her Cujo face on.) In the SWEETEST baby-talking voice I can muster, I say, "Niki! Hush!" (This is not the "hush" command, by the way. I may as well have asked him to decant the bottle of red wine in the kitchen for how much sense it made to him.)
Now, with dogs, tone is the key. Niki continues to bark, because I have just told him, with my tone, that he's being a Very Good Dog. After five minutes of Niki menacing him, I say, "Let me think about it, and I'll give the number on the card a call." I thought this was polite, based on the fact that I said that I wasn't interested half a dozen different ways already.
I close the door, lock it behind me, and praise the daylights out of the dog. It's days like this that make me especially grateful that we adopted the dogs.