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Re: Ball gardens...addictions...drought/cat


Noreen, we didn't/don't know what to think. Her every action was against every bit of our belief system, and we spent a lot of time trying to eliminate any possible explanation. But, as you've probably seen from my message to Kitty, some things were just sort of put in front of us.
Certainly, Greg and some others were sure Annie was Hermann with a new skin. And we were startled that she seemed to know so much.
I just remembered how she hunted for a cookie in my mom's hand. Mom was a sucker as much as we were, and always brought an oatmeal cookie for her. When Mom first met her, she arrived without one and Annie hunted all over for it, miffed that Mom didn't produce. Dang- that was 20 years ago!

On the other hand, if she truly were Hermann, I would think we would have had an easier time raising her. She was a real stinker - the most difficult pup I've ever had to deal with. Zem's comments about Otis make me chuckle, since I know how frustrating it can be, and Otis seems like a good pup with energy. Annie was so much of a hellion that a couple of times I had to call Bill to come home and deal with her before I did something I regretted. (At the same time it made me realize how someone could have been so frustrated with Hermann that he was beaten.)

I don't think it was coincidence, but I don't pretend to understand.

d




----- Original Message ----- From: <TeichFlora@aol.com>
To: <gardenchat@hort.net>
Sent: Wednesday, November 02, 2005 4:11 PM
Subject: Re: [CHAT]Ball gardens...addictions...drought/cat


Oh my!!!! So glad you wrote in, Daryl. I really thought we were perhaps
reading into things or such, but hearing your VERY similar situation really
does put something more than coincidence to it all.....doesn't it?? What were
your thoughts at the time??? We really don't know what to make of the
situation. Does the new puppy otherwise act like Hermann, or is it just certain
things she does that you mentioned??? It's really an odd, eerie feeling you get.
Thanks for sharing your experience, I appreciate it.
Noreen
zone 9
Texas Gulf Coast

In a message dated 11/2/2005 11:02:40 AM Central Standard Time,
gardenchat-owner@hort.net writes:

Noreen,

I showed your first message about Flaksey to my husband, who said, "Now
*That sounds familiar."

Many years ago, we had a mostly-Blue Tick Hound named Hermann. We adopted
him after he had been beaten with chains and thrown out in a sleet storm. He
died many years later from lymphosarcoma. Several months after he died, our
other dog Popper was still pining away - wouldn't eat, losing weight, didn't
want to play. The vet suggested we get her a pet, so I started scouting the
shelters looking for a neutered male, over a year old, no floppy ears,
medium sized.... I finally located what sounded like the best choice and
went to check him out at the local adoption day.

While I was playing with him in the get-acquainted pen, a gangly red
floppy-eared hound pup kept trying to crawl into my lap, or over my
shoulder, trying to climb up my pants when I stood up to gently shoo her
away. After about 20 minutes of this I succumbed to the inevitable, and
brought her home with me.
When I set her down to meet Popper, she wagged once, sniffed once, then
marched through the open door straight to the water bowl. After a quick
sniff of the allowed territory (kitchen and dining room) she sat in front of
where "his" food bowl used to be. And waited, and watched. And waited until
I found a spare bowl ( we had tossed Hermann's old one) and fed both of
them. When Bill came home, she flung herself all over him ( picture a Snoopy
dance), curled up in his lap, and went to sleep.

A week or two later when we gave her the run of the house, she went right to
the corner of the living room where Hermann used to hide his toys. She by
now had quite an accumulation of her own, of course, but seemed very
disappointed not to find the old stash, which we'd also tossed out.
There were other such things, like finding Hermann's pet rock outside,
snoozing with it and trying to carry it - a feat that she couldn't
accomplish for several months since it was too big for her puppy mouth.

The kicker came about a year later. I had gone out with her to feed the
chickens, and heard a huge amount of yelping - not the "get the heck outta
my yard, stranger," yelp, but the "oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, friend!" song.

I went around the corner to look, saw a semi in front of the house and went
to tell yet another trucker that he had the wrong address (a guy down the
road owned a plumbing company, and deliveries were often attempted at our
corner instead of his) . Meanwhile Annie was keeping up her happy dance and
singsong. I saw a guy climb out of the truck and start to walk to the front
gate and realized it was our friend Greg, who hadn't ever met Annie. He and
Hermann had been best buds whenever he had visited, but it had been a couple
of years since he had passed through. She practically knocked Greg down
when he came through the gate, hugging and slobbering all over him.

I'll let everybody draw whatever conclusions they'd like.
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