I dunno. I thought you were keeping track of stuff like that.
Actually, it’s been a matter of the season. We’ve had cold, wet weather here the past several weeks. That means I’ve been in pain. It also means I’ve been in a funk. The time change, the increased pain, the weather – all added up to one miserable Paula. Trust me, it isn’t pretty.
I couldn’t type very long but I could use the mouse. I have a voice recognition software, a darn good one, but I hadn’t the patience to deal with it. Instead, I got addicted on The Sims 2. I know, bad Paula. Blame my brother. It’s all his fault. I’m just an innocent bystander, er, bysitter, er, whatever.
I’ve also still been puppy hunting. Since donations toward a full-breed $1500 puppy did not appear (ahem), I backtracked out of that field and turned to the rescue groups. After talking to Joella (more on that in a moment), I also started looking for a male, slightly older than a baby puppy, and in a rescue situation. Tomorrow we go see one that meets that criteria. His current name is Happy and he is in King, NC. The rescue group and I have been emailing back and forth for nearly three weeks now and we finally meet Saturday. I’m nervous. What if he and I hate each other? What if he fails the various tests I need to do? What if….okay, stop that, Paula. Put down the clipboard and back up three feet. There ya go.
Back to talking with Joella. We firmly believe in animal communicators. Yes, there are bogus quacks who are tricking the owners and taking their money. And then there are legitimate ones. We know one of the legitimate ones. We met Patty Summers a long time ago (at Asheville Pet Supply, a way cool place)back when we had a bully cat (Pav) and his favorite target, Skiz. We took them to see Patty. It was our last effort to keep Pav. Either this stopped his bullying or he was going to find another home. Patty told him to get over his bastard self and to not be a bully. She nailed his personality down fairly well! And she got Skiz’, too. When we came home, Pav raced out of the crate and hid under the bed. He didn’t come out for dinner nor breakfast. For several days, each time he saw Skiz, he ran in the opposite direction. He was a bully just a few times more until he and Skiz settled into this glaring match that lasted the rest of Skiz’ life.
Later, when we got Jo, we took her to meet Patty, too. I wanted to make sure Joella understood she was a working dog, did she want to be a working dog, was she happy, etc etc etc. Animal communicators don’t actually speak words to the critter. It is more like images and feelings; they don’t have words like we do. When she “talks” to Jo, she usually has her eyes closed. So here we were, sitting quietly while she talked with Jo. Every once in a while, she would tell me what she and Jo were talking about. “She likes her fluffy toys,” Patty said. Jo had a stuffed elephant she loved. Suddenly, Patty bursts out laughing “No, Joella, no!” After a moment, and still laughing, Patty explained. “One of the fluffy toys moved. It’s your cats! Jo sees them as the household pets, as toys!” She told Jo that the cats were part of the household pack, just like she was. When we come home, Jo goes straight to her best bud, Mad Max. She lays her head on the ottoman next to him and whines. He reaches out with his paws, extends the claws, and grasps her muzzle. He then proceeds to clean her from nose to ear. Each time she tries to back away, he’d just drive those claws in a little more. She never chases the cats, never bothers them. They all have loved her and rub against her often. We took Jo a second time a few years later. Lorna had taken Jake (the dog that thought Lorna was a chew toy) and they got done early (no surprise there). Patty loves Jo so we went in and used the rest of the time. Like I said, usually the communicator is silent, eyes closed, and the dog just wanders the room. Suddenly Jo stops and whips her head around to stare at Patty who then promptly almost falls out of her chair laughing. Patty had asked her if she ever plays with Jake and Jo said “Are you nuts?” Jo is apparently quite the talker. She didn’t like the stinky shampoo we were currently using. She liked the smaller food better (meaning the cats’ food). And she puts things into a cool perspective. She made Patty laugh several times that first visit. One was when Joella seriously said, in response to “do you need anything”: “Sometimes, I just need a really good bone.”
So, I email Patty and tell her I’m looking for another dog to train but I need to first make sure Jo understands what is going on. That SHE isn’t being replaced, never will be. But I need someone for the job. A few days later, Patty and I talk on the phone with Jo in the room with me. Yes, she is fine with letting someone else do the job. But she still wants to go places. And she prefers a male because males are easier to boss around. Various other things were talked about (Jo wants more eggs) and Patty and I discussed what kind of dog I would look for. Rottweilers are a wonderful breed. They are intelligent, strong in both mind and body, and they are goofy clowns. They are a working breed that love to have jobs whether that is chasing down a bad guy or picking my keys up off the floor. Male rotties get along great with each other. Female rotties, however, tend to not like each other. A lot of the time, a female rottie won’t like any female dogs. So it is not surprising that Joella would prefer I get a male dog. I’ve spoken to various people since then and they all agreed.
And off we go Saturday to meet a 4.5 mos old male rottweiler. A far cry from the baby female I started looking for several months ago. But that’s how life goes.