Immeasurably More

Dear Reader, Dog and Pony have been resident with me and LandLady for 4 weeks now.  The local dog trainer asked me yesterday if we were bonding.  My ability to read dog body language is still weak, so it may be...or not. We are having some long heart to heart chats.  This one happened in the car on the way home from her stay at the boarding kennel last weekend. "Dog?" Dog, in the back seat of the car, whines. "Dog it's very important that you listen to me." Dog turns to stare out the window. "Dog, I don't have to keep you, you know.  I can send you back.  If you want to live with me we need to come to an understanding." Dog turns to stare out the other window. "There can't be any more gate jumping.  No more sticking your tongue in the peanut butter jar.  Less restless pacing." More whining. "And you owe LandLady an apology for taking her toast." Dog lays down, rests her head on the seat protector and looks at...

Dear Reader, Dog has a way of expressing sad resignation when she is confined to her crate against her will.  She sighs and lets her head fall against the crate door so it clangs on its hinges.  The more frequently she gets in trouble, the more frequently she gets sent to her "room" and the more frequently I hear ...Sigh...Clang. The most exciting incident of this week was on Tuesday.  LandLady likes to start her days with coffee and toast, and on Tuesday morning, she took the European approach to this classic breakfast by warming the previous evening's Italian bread and adding plenty of butter. Dog, baby gatted in the TV room, watched these proceedings with interest. Dog watches all food related proceedings with interest.  She knows where her food is kept.  She knows where the human food is kept.  She knows where her treats are kept in two different rooms.  And she knows that LandLady uses Pony's crate as a table ...

Dear Reader, They say that dogs don't have great memories for the mundane.  For example, you can't punish a dog for a mess made on the floor earlier in the day.  By the time you get home and step in it, he's already moved on.  But for Greyhounds, trauma sticks around.* People are like that, too.  We filter out the unimportant stimulus and information in our lives (what did you have for breakfast last Sunday?), but we remember the details of things associated with strong emotional reactions.  (Where were you when you heard about 9/11?) I'm not sure how the memory thing works for rabbits.   I know that when I was a kid, I had a pet rabbit.   (Cottontail, cuz she was black with a white tail.  Clever, huh?)  My parents swear that one day they heard her scream when a loose dog attacked her hutch.  I wonder now if she had flashbacks of that day when, on a day years later, she met her end at ...

Dear Reader, Of course, I should have taken a photo, but Pony doesn't belong to me; he belongs to LandLady and when he jumped the baby gate, I panicked and didn't think to reach for my camera. But I'm getting ahead of myself. As previously mentioned , before I moved in with LandLady, she had agreed to let me adopt a dog. But not just any dog - specifically, a retired racing greyhound.  Because they are quiet and gentle and sleep about 18 hours a day.  Kind of like cats, but you can teach them to do useful stuff, like "come".* Over the course of my first two weeks here, as we discussed arrangements for the dog - Where to poop?  Where to eat?  Where to sleep?  How to train? - LandLady got more and more interested in the breed and increasingly excited about having something to pet.  I suggested that she could get her own dog, but she demurred, claiming she preferred to use my dog as a test of her own emotional and physical preparedness for dog ownersh...