Recently, Gretchen took Dezi and me to visit with Rachel Millikan of Beyond Barking. This almost caused a rift in my parent’s marriage because Rachel is an animal communicator. For some of you, this probably feels like the hokiest thing she could have done, but I’m here to tell you, it was wonderful to FINALLY be heard. I could spend this entire blog sharing with all what we learned from each other (Gretchen, Dezi, and me), but I would rather focus on the events that folded AFTER the communication session.
Let me just say this though: Rachel was fantastic so if you are so inclined, give her a call. It’s really helped our family tremendously.
But back to what I really want to tell you…
…we have adopted another dog. Yep, the dog Blue that I wrote about during the last blog, the dog who lived on the streets and Costa Rica and was brought home by my beloved sister-in-law, Patti, is now living with us.
Like for always.
Clearly, I have mixed feelings about all of this. In our communication session I think I made it pretty darn clear that I have, as Rachel called it, a large energetic bubble. I am very particular about who gets to be in my space. When Dezi came to live with us, he had to learn about my proximity issues, but because I already knew him, it wasn’t too hard to establish my comfort zone with him.
True, as he’s grown older and more unstable, he occasionally stumbles into my zone, but I have learned to be patient with him because he is, after all, my “older” brother.
I also have issues with sharing. Not just food or treats or toys, but pretty much everything — my time, my moms, their affections, my place on the bed, hell my place in the whole damn house. Dezi knows all this and he still loves me. He is very careful not to tread into my space or ask to “share” anything that I deem is mine, which I’ve made clear, is pretty much everything. Dezi is respectful and is not too bent out of shape when I claim what I feel is mine, perhaps nudging him out of his desire to have it too.
Boy was I wrong.
This is all made pretty unbearable because the new addition, who they have named Oscar, was, in a sense, a “gift” from my favorite Aunt Patti. I adore Aunt Patti and whenever we visit her, I show my affections for my favoritism by sidling up to her and giving her my most loving sweet eyes so she will give me the undying attention I so deserve.
Oh sure…I’ve heard it all: Oscar is Dezi’s doppleganger; this is a sign from Dezi; Oscar needs a loving and caring home; Patti trusts us the most; he’ll get the best food, exercise, and medical care in our house; yada yada yada. And then it was even more painful when I was misled under the pretense that he would live with us “temporarily,” as a “foster dog” until we could find him a proper home. You know what? That dog wasn’t with us for more than 6 hours before he was all the sudden “our” dog, a member of the family, and an additional “brother” for me!
When this was all going down, I did my best to rally the troops and get Dezi to put his foot down along with mine, but wouldn’t you know it, Dezi fell in love with the little guy. I didn’t have a chance.
Yes, Oscar is cute. Yes, he is affectionate. And yes, he knows how to play to his strengths. Even though he only spoke Spanish, he knew exactly how to woo my moms and Dezi and anyone else who came in contact with him.
I think they should have named him Romeo. Or perhaps Casanova.
Cheeky little thing!
So now I have two brothers when all I ever wanted in life was to be the one dog in a one dog family.
Okay, so I’m not as cold hearted as I sound. I do love Dezi. If I had to choose a brother, it would be Dezi (or Monty). He is the perfect gentleman. He fits his nickname (David Niven) perfectly. He has blended into our family perfectly. And he is perfectly loved by all of us.
But to bring another brother along without so much as a “Hey Rubin, what do you think?” is a bit of an insult. Don’t ya think?
I think my moms know this because they have done a whole lot of stuff to make certain I am not “put out” as they like to say. They take me on separate walks so I can have alone time with them; they put up a gate so I can have my own separate eating space; they made sure my place on the bed was still available and my place in the car was clearly delineated.
And, to be honest, Oscar has been pretty respectful of all the imposed boundaries. Yes, he still wants to play with me — licks my cheek every morning — and he shadows me everywhere, as if to get on my good side by flattering me and emulating me. If I give a full body shake, he does the same. If I bark at a squirrel, he
barks too. If I lie down in the kitchen, he lies as close as he can get without disturbing me.
Everyone says Oscar is a mini-me of Dezi, but I think Oscar thinks he should be my mini-me.
Part of the problem is that I can’t play with Oscar yet. Playing is the way I best learn to accept other dogs. If they chase me or wrestle me, then I know they are ok, but Oscar hasn’t been able to do that yet.
You see Oscar came to us with some major health concerns. He had tick disease to start with or something called ehrlichiosis. The isn’t as serious as Lyme Disease, but it’s still serious. Luckily, it’s treatable but the medication has side effects and so Oscar didn’t feel 100% for the first month of his homecoming.
And he has heart worm. This is serious, but again, treatable through some pretty powerful medications. He is on those for quite some time and this is the main reason we are not allowed to play and romp together. Briefly, the goal of the medication is to help the heart worm die off slowly. It breaks the worms a part into tiny little pieces so they can be absorbed into the body without causing damage. If they die off too quickly or break about in larger pieces, they can cause a stroke and one way that they die off too quickly is if Oscar’s heart races. Hence, we are limited to long walks and no playing chase.
I am sad about this because one of the best ways I know how to make friends is to let them chase me. And let me tell you, this little guy wants to do exactly that! I have to admit that I have been known to taunt him from time to time, but my moms break up any attempt on our parts to play pretty quickly. Oscar keeps trying though. For instance, after a long walk Gretchen let him off the leash when we got into the house. He proceeded to race up and down the hallway with an absolute look of glee on his face. I, of course, jumped in because who doesn’t like a gleeful race up and down the hallway?
So I’m hoping, once the meds are finished (October at the earliest, December at the latest) our playing can commence and our friendship can truly begin.
Dezi, I must say, has tried his best to talk me through it. “I don’t want you to be alone,” he tells me. “You need someone younger in your life to keep you on your toes!” I know he’s just saying this partly because he is so in love with Oscar, but partly because I know how much he loves me.
I’ll be honest. It’s gonna be hard when Dezi crosses the Rainbow Bridge. I have grown to love this wise old man. Rachel, the animal communicator, called him a light and I think that’s a perfect description of him. He has brought light into our lives and I am going to miss his sage counsel and steadfast friendship.
But I don’t want to think about that yet. I need Dezi to be with me now as we transition Oscar completely into the fold. Dezi has been holding his own of late, but every day, I can tell there’s a little less life in him, a little less spark. He sleeps a lot and only rallies when he knows a meal is served. He goes on walks with us, but they are much shorter and much slower these days and that twinkle in his eyes is fading, growing more dull as the weeks pass.
I have grown to love Dezi like a brother and he tells me that, in time, I will grow to love Oscar the same way. I think he may be right, but I’m not sure I’m ready to admit it yet. And I think that’s only fair since I’m a dog who never wanted one brother let alone two.
Perhaps this is my lot in life — to face the things I never thought I’d enjoy and find out that I really enjoy them. Well, at least I know who to thank — Dezi. He has been the light who has shown me the way and for that I will always be grateful.
For now, though, I must breathe deeply and realize that Oscar is here to stay. Gretchen tells me that it’s my job to teach the little guy how to be a dog in the United States. She tells me that he has lived his life on the streets and many of his behaviors — barking at other dogs, for instance — was his way of surviving. I need to show him that other dogs can be his friend, that drinking water out of a bowl won’t harm him, that we pee outside the house (which he’s pretty good at), and that when we say “forever” we mean forever. Gretchen tells me that this is an opportunity for me to be the wise, older brother like Dezi was for me.
It’s not a role I’m completely comfortable with, but she says, given enough time and if I’m super patient, I will come to love Oscar as much as I’ve loved Dezi. Hard to believe, but I have to admit, she hasn’t steered me wrong yet.
We’ll see. Stay tuned for more Oscar and Dezi updates and when you have a moment, send me some courage, okay?