I am Shocked. Astounded.
Jeff brought our two dogs, Angus and Hermione, home to us several weeks ago after three weeks of Board and Train. At least we thought they were our dogs. They had the same markings, the same bright eyes, the huge Pitbull smiles. But something was wrong. Something was seriously amiss. And something told me that Jeff had pulled a fast one and that these were, in fact, NOT our dogs at all. They simply couldn’t be. And why? Because our dogs would have been charging around the house, jumping from sofa to sofa and knocking them over, table surfing, and wreaking havoc. They’d have been jumping on us too, their claws scratching our skin as they ignored our pleas for them to please SIT — SIT SIT SIT!!! Outside, they’d be yanking us by their leashes like sleds in the Iditarod around the backyard or at the state park, causing me to fracture (once again!) my foot as I was plunged off balance. Off-leash, they would have refused to come when called, disappearing into the gardens and heading off to the roadway. Hermione would be lunging, growling and snapping at any passing dog, or worse — chasing one of my cats in an effort to kill it. Angus would be growling or cornering a human being who would be desperately trying to pass on the sidewalk. People always passed us in horror, terrified of our crazy, lunatic animals. No, these were not our dogs. They had been switched out with dogs that walked nicely on leashes, with their heads at our knees. No more cortisone shots in our shoulders would be required. These dogs come racing across the yard at a full clip when called and sit immediately at our feet, waiting for our next command. Angus – DOWN! And down he goes. So does his sister Hermione. And they don’t budge. They lay there and wait, just looking at us until released with a “Go play.” Off they charge, resuming their wrestling and rolling, cavorting happily in the grass. The same results occur with the PLACE command. I am shocked. Astounded. And on that first day, they came home — in tears. And that evening, a simple “kennel up” and both dogs walked peacefully and willingly into their crates and I was able to shut the doors. No whining, no crying, nothing. They slept, snoring. I don’t know whatever became of that other Hermione and Angus, but these new “improved” dogs, these wonderful creatures that are a joy to be around and who look to us now with love and respect, so willing to please — we think we’ll keep them! Hermione is interacting and greeting with affection our cats and even headbutts them and kisses their faces. Angus has not growled at a single person, even in a recent situation where we put him in the midst of a family event with many people and 3 dogs all interacting with each other and getting underfoot. He enjoyed every minute of it, and even allowed everyone to pet and hug him. No, we don’t know whatever became of the other Angus and the other Hermione, but wherever they are we wish them well. We have never been happier, and our only regret is that we didn’t find Jeff sooner. Our past year of hell could have been a slice of heaven. We’re just glad it is now.