The Unexpected Dragon is a 3-in-1 collection of Mary Brown’s Pigs Don’t Fly, Master of Many Treasures and Dragonne’s Eg. Fairly typical light historical fantasy fare, the first two books focus on a girl named Summer, who when her town concubine mother dies suddenly discovers she has no place in the town. Raised by a jealous mom to be fat, lazy and emotionally co-dependent she indulges herself in a bit of a rebellious streak and runs away from not-home.

Turns out her dad (who was killed as a supposed thief before she was born) was something of a traveler and over time acquired a ring made of unicorn horn. Through the ring Summer gains the abilities to talk to animals and danger sense. The former leads to Summer collecting a group of abandoned miscreants seeking home. One is a blinded, amnesiac lord who Summer has a mad crush on.

The third book is set in Victorian England as another strong but worn-down-by-life young woman finishes the quest left hanging by Summer in the second book.

All three stories are coming of age tales, but for me they had special significance because of the underlying themes of Summer overcoming self esteem and co-dependency issues, ruthlessly programmed in her by her mother, and Sophie trying to live well after being abandoned by her parents (they died, but psychologically it’s still abandonment) and being alone in a world with very restrictive rules, especially for a woman.

Said themes are present, but not overwhelming, and as a bonus while rape is clearly something that happens in the world setting, there is no “the heroine must be raped to be even more tragic/vulnerable” subtext.

The Unexpected Dragon is one of the surprising gems that I snagged from the Science Fiction book club in my teens out of a hunger for anything to read. It struck a chord for me, and is easy to overlook, which is sad. It’s definitely among my pass-down-to-my-kids library.

And it’s really hard. Right now I’m trying to do the normal family-day job-writing balance. Plus adding in a fierce need to clean up and organize my physical life (Seriously, how did I acquire so much junk?), stress at the day job because hey, we’re heading into a holidays and that’s totally the perfect time of year to be a total ass to people who perform menial tasks so you don’t have to…

Yeah, we’ve all been there.

Thing is too, days just seem to fly by, and I don’t want them to. If I get things done I feel great, but like I don’t have time to enjoy, you know, a finished book or a clean house. I hope cloning becomes legal soon, because I need like three more of me.

Step one is picking one writing task and actually finishing it. Three or four projects at a time is just killing me.

…And practice. Like writing.

I’m sure some of you will be surprised to know I was nervous I was going to serious mess up with my dogs. Confidence is only recently becoming one of my personal traits.

Dizzy spoiled us because he is soooo good. And he always has been. He’s not the smartest, but is very willing, wants nothing more than to be loved and to keep us safe.

When we started looking for a second dog (primarily because we could finally afford it and poor Dizzy, who loves other animals, never had a friend) I wanted a “difficult” dog. Okay, maybe that’s the wrong word. But I like character. I like challenges. I like breeds that are not as passive. I’m like this with everything too.

I never had a lot of dreams about having kids when I was younger, but I always hoped they’d be just like Calvin and Hobbes. (I think I got that wish.) Dogs are the same. Keep your labs and your goldens. Give me a punky Yorkie or a silly Dobie any day.

So I worry a lot that I set myself up for failure. Like Georgie. His mom was aggressive. She bit Mister and tried to attack Mini. She tried to attack Dizzy. He started his life in a complete pack situation and had food issues when we got him at 4 weeks. 4 weeks! He didn’t care about people, didn’t want to listen, didn’t want to behave.

But the other night when some friends came over very late and not according to schedule he popped open the loose front screen door, and instead of trying to engage us in a game of chase the dog around the neighborhood he held the gate, refusing to let them come in until he recognized one of them.

For a while now they’ve been staying out in the house at night too, and haven’t torn into the loaf of bread that was accidentally left out, or the baggie of trash with smooshed fruit in it. They follow me around the house because they’re supposed to stay in the same room with us. Georgie is finally learning stay.

Last week Astrid was off leash following me to the car for a ride and I forgot about the three pits in the house behind us. She ran toward them, but stopped and turned when I said “Leave it.” And she’s calmed down enough now that the cat lets her groom him instead of her having to pin him down.

It’s about time, because they’ve only been with us a year and a half now.

I felt the need to say this because I know there’s a lot of people struggling with, and considering getting rid of or giving into dogs out there. I know there were nights when I picked up poo while the dogs tore into the trash in the other room, then when I put them outside they escaped and left me hiding panic-frustration tears. Jason told me more than once that we were going to have to get rid of Astrid if she didn’t stop peeing in X place.

But now he tells them all how good they are. We all do. It takes time. It takes going through the house for 20 minutes a night to make sure you got all tempting things up and out or put away. It takes paying real close attention to real subtle cues (of which the kids are not great at) to know when it’s potty time. It takes crate time outs, and fearful questions to trainers.

Good dogs don’t, or rarely happen over night. (I will grudgingly admit there might be other perfect dogs like Dizzy out there.) So please, please, keep working with your dog, even when it gets hard. Even when you don’t want to. Don’t be afraid to ask for help, because even if you can’t afford training, there’s books. If you can’t afford books there’s websites, message boards and youtube (there are some great dog training videos on youtube.)

Sometimes it just takes time for things to sink in (Georgie’s moment was when I picked him up after he’d been neutered. He had been so terrified that we’d left him. He hugged me and clung to me licking my arm for several moments.

Sometimes it just takes the dog growing into a more adult stage of their life. Sometimes it takes that 100th time of repetition for them to get it.

Don’t give up, because good dogs take time.

…really needing to talk to someone about something bothering me, but not being able to because the people who understand the situation might report my venting to the wrong people and the people who will listen have no clue what’s going on.

That’s all.