Cordelia Reviews Books

Meet Cordelia. Cordelia is an aspiring farm dog, aggressively friendly, and only still when she's asleep. The faithful Cordelia has been subjected to an unreasonable number of podcasts, audiobooks, and wine-fuelled dance parties in college apartments.

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Cordelia is here to inform you Taylor drops her F-Bomb(s!) on Betty and talks close teenage friendships somewhere between kisses and fuck off. She’s done it, she’s caught us all.

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Who’s your favorite female character in literature?

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When my human and I consider failing at adulting, we pull out pumpkins and watch Veep to remind ourselves that people with our humor are out there.

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The Human has taken a second job. This one smells like sugar. She came back to me late last night, and we frolicked in the Horseshoe. Later, my human was not well. I brought all the toys, and then sat on her chest to maintain she was still breathing. I kept her vital organs warm, while she slept for 20 hours. She is keeping the lights low and magic screens off. Migraines. She has had soup, and I am very disappointed in her culinary choices. I stretched across her side, and maintained direct eye contact until she fell asleep. When she woke up, as soon as her eyes were open, I knew, and began licking her face to claim her as my family. We’re listening to Born A Crime by Trevor Noah and trying to go back to sleep on the couch. The yawns are contagious. To maintain the health of my human, I must be on top of her at all times. Warmth is essential.

[cordeliareads]

And Your Daughters Shall Prophesy by Adrian Shirk

My human has been responsive with cuddles. She told me my name was almost Flannery. The portrait in this book makes me feel we would understand each other.

Specifically, my human paraphrased that this book proposes women making their space in the world are viewed as making a spectacle of themselves or being spectacular. My human likes memoirs and biographies because she thinks entirely too much about this spectrum, and how it shapes her future.

I don’t know the difference. In my world, I have the love and life I’ve created with my human. I give kisses and wags to strangers while my human keeps me safe. Perhaps I’ll come to understand it, as I meet my admirers here.

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This, this is okay. I guess my human can study now.

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SOS. The Lemon is Possessed.

And That’s We Drink: DESTROY THE LEMON. SUPPORT YOUR KIN, GIO.

My human was on the couch, saying hello and even though she was picking the egg shells from the treatment out of my hair, we were happy. I was in control.

Then. The lemon. It was on the Podcast.

The human cleaned the sink. Normal.

The human got a towel. It is raining outside. Normal.

The human took me outside. I raced to freedom. Human opened the door. I refused to move from the steps because it was raining. Human coaxes me to the smelly patch of grass I never walk by without inspecting. I follow her madness, rain forgotten. Normal behavior.

Then, we came back to Den Apartment. Human dried me off. Normal.

It changed. Human summoned water from wall. Human left it running.

Human took the Brush or Death and Squirming. I was too cold, too tired, too cozy from the warm blanket of false love to squirm, so I played dead. It would be over soon. I knew this aggression would descalate, and I would get treats and a long play time. The human always helped me forget my terror until I saw the Brush of Death and Squirming Again.

The human changed the rules. I believe it was the MUMMIFIED LEMON in control.

She gave me treats, and then carried me to the sink.

My human, now The human… She BATHED me. No, it wasn’t with her tongue.

Geo, destroy the lemon. Or face true terror.

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We don’t like these weeks. It has rained for five days. The human has continued to assault me with the Brush of Death and Squirming. We are not roaming the Horseshoe. I have not seen anyone from the Small Dog Support Group.

My curls are valiantly resisting the struggle to conform to the desires of the Brush of Death and Squirming in partnership with the rain. I aid them by breaking the trash can when the Human leaves for work at night. I spend the night doing my own roll in, eight hour treatment of broken egg shells, potato peel, and lick every piece of plastic bag clean of brown sauce. Silly, wasteful human. Don’t those look-papers in your Lie-Berry tell you to not throw out food? Smelly is the best.

We are listening to And That’s Why We Drink. I believe the human drinks for many more reasons, and cannot choose between #teamwine or #teammilkshake. On Fridays, we sometimes go with Oliver the Yorkie and his human with apple treats to a porch after Small Dog Support Group. More people come with treats for all of the gathered non-pack humans, and my human is very happy to have a boozy milkshake. I get what I want the more my human consumes boozy milkshakes. I follow the squealing for the pets from the other humans, and dance to prove my worthiness of their worship.

It is the Midterm Moon Cycle. Human is very distracted by too many look-papers. I bring her toys and chew the pages to remind her to live a good life and go outside. Again. And again. Let’s live outside, my human. Come on... Leash! Hallway! RUN TO THE DOOR, I WILL SHOW YOU THE WAY! MY HUMAN, WE LIVE OUTSIDE NOW! No, not now. I’m not leaving the steps in the rain. Inside? Play?

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Human listens while lesson planning. I bring toys as offering for a better life. She throws them, as trained, and all is well.

I am confused by the opening number and always cock my head, but I’ll pay attention to the man inside the phone when I hear people laugh. Sometimes I lick the screen.

The attention should belong to me. Human laughs and loosens up listening to this. I guess it’s good for us.

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Too wet and cold to play outside today. Must distract human from courses.