HOW I BECAME A DOG WHISPERER …

It was strange how our evening play session morphed into dog whispering. It started out one evening after dinner when I had settled down in the easy chair in the living room and  Renee started bringing her toys one by one from the toy box to me. When she got to the ball, I would bounce it across the room and she would fetch/catch it until it rolled under a piece of furniture and then I had to fetch it. After one night it became an evening ritual. Well, a ritual up until the day I slide on the black ice on the walk and twisted my knee.

After dinner that night I gimped to the easy chair and sat down, and Renee brought me her ball. After a couple of tosses and returns the ball rolled under the rocker. When I didn’t get up to fetch it, she sat down in front of me and stared up at me with that sad-eyed look dogs cultivate to make their humans feel sorry for them. I looked down at her and began slowly rubbing behind her ears while softly telling her I loved her but I couldn’t get the ball because I had hurt my knee.

The next night she didn’t even bring the ball, but sat down right in front of me. When I didn’t do anything, she moved her head under my hand and eventually I began rubbing behind her ears and talking to her. A new even routine had been born!

I really don’t think she knows what I’m talking about.  Sure I tell her she’s a pretty girl and how she’s my most favorite ever dog. But I also tell her about all the things that are bugging me … what I wanted to do, but didn’t … and how the weather is so miserable. She’s like my own canine confessional … and without having to say any Hail Marys.

Sometimes when she looks up at me with those dark brown eyes, it’s like she’s can understand every word I’m saying. But I know that’s not the case.

“Sure, Rob, it’s all yammer yammer to me.

But in a way it’s kind of soothing.

And I’d listen to anything for an ear rub.”