Thursday, April 26, 2012

My Dog's Therapist


Yes my dear audience, I have been reading My Therapist’s Dog, by Diana Wells. The author sees a therapist after several major losses in her life. She takes care of her therapist’s pet and finds that the dog serves as another part of her therapy. Well, I have thought of myself as a therapist for the two goof balls that "own" Kobe and I.  They have both been to plenty of therapy I know, although that's the norm in Ann Arbor.
I for one have had my share of loss and trauma. Just imagine, your owners die, suddenly the police, the neighbors are there and all of us whippets are wondering, “What will happen next?” As tough as it was at our old home, living with minimal human attention and being the youngest dogs in the pack, it was still home and familiar. I had my "peeps" you know? My homies, my friends. So when they split us up it was very very lonely. I eventually went to a foster home, where I did adore Bobbie, my foster mom. I am hoping to see her at Whippet Nationals.

When they came to adopt me and I was reunited with Kobe, we were both ecstatic! We jumped over coffee tables and couches with joy! He is a knucklehead but I don't know what I'd do without the old boy. Kobe is my only connection to the past.

Whether the past was good or bad, we still miss it. As I say as a therapist, "All change is loss. And loss must be mourned." Now if I could only get some clients! Any takers out there? Of course I am not going to fuss about silly details, such as a license, training or a degree. 


Next blog, a full report about my day at Whippet Nationals and the wonderful souls who run WRAP, the rescue group. That's all for now!

Tootles,

Barcelona
 

Saturday, April 7, 2012

Change Change Change

Kobe and I were visiting when our grandparents moved from the old homestead to a senior apartment. It was a sad day for all; although I didn’t shed any tears I tried to provide emotional support (meaning that I made myself available for petting).

I can relate as I, too had a big life change. Our owners died (first the lady, then the man). After Mr. S. passed away, someone discovered us and a convoy of cars took us away from our house. We were all hungry and thirsty since a few days had passed. Suddenly, we were separated, I got spaded and Kobe was neutralized. Later on there were baths, nail trimming, all of that. The people were sweet to us, but so much chaos and change!

I ended up with a very nice foster lady named Bobbie and stayed at her house for a time. (She adored me, but that is par for the course you know).

Since being adopted, Kobe and I have discovered many new and wonderful things:  squeaky toys, learning to lick off spoons, barking at other dogs through the picture window, having our very own beds, riding in the car. Naturally there are some downsides, like going to the vet, nail cutting, having to follow commands and all that.  

So, Grand-mère and Grand-père, take it from me. As painful as it is to leave your neighbors, the house where you have been nearly as long as you can remember and your city; a new place will eventually be like a comfortable old shoe. Here’s my advice:  embrace the future, something good comes with every change.


Toodles, Barcelona