Tag Archives: Shadow

On changing course: a race course!

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Laudie-dog is pointing out one side of a two-turn race course, the deep banked holes assisting in skidding to stop after flying through the air, and, using the now banked up back yard, instantaneously turning about, flying in the other direction. Landing on the opposite side of the yard, there is the same skid to stop banked up hole, exactly the same, identical, just in reverse. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.

Laudie-dog looks bewildered as this race course of changing of course doesn’t belong to her. This was created by Shadow-dog because Shadow-dog thinks he’s clever. Shadow-dog is a maniac. Behold, Saint Paul speaking of when he was a maniac, running from his good religious plan right into sin and back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, with his good religious plan being the same as his sin, you know, because he is the one doing it under his own “power,” which, of course, is nothing:

“We know that the law is spiritual; but I am carnal, sold into slavery to sin. What I do, I do not understand. For I do not do what I want, but I do what I hate. Now if I do what I do not want, I concur that the law is good. So now it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me. For I know that good does not dwell in me, that is, in my flesh. The willing is ready at hand, but doing the good is not. For I do not do the good I want, but I do the evil I do not want. Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I who do it, but sin that dwells in me. So, then, I discover the principle that when I want to do right, evil is at hand. For I take delight in the law of God, in my inner self, but I see in my members another principle at war with the law of my mind, taking me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Miserable one that I am! Who will deliver me from this mortal body?” (Romans 7:14-24).

The idea here is that Saint Paul is critiquing his manipulative usage of religion as a way to congratulate himself. Note the constant mantra of egoism – “I” – “I” – “I” – as in “I myself come up with a religious plan that I think is good for me and I’m clever and I can save myself by my religious plan because I’m so special! Look at me! Look at me! I’m saving myself! /// He’s saying that that kind of attitude is B.S., or better, Chicken S***, inasmuch as what he’s depicted himself as is a chicken with it’s head cut off, running around mindlessly like it’s all normal and good. There are those who don’t get this until they read the last verse which I didn’t  include above. You’ll see it below, but don’t read it just yet.

Let me tell you of another crowd who have been a very large part of the crisis of priests not knowing who they are, and of the abuse crisis. They knew the last verse cited further below, but purposely went out of their way to ignore this. There’s a psych institute over in Rome connected to the Pontifical Gregorian University which trains up sisters and priests in psychology to be staff psychologists at seminaries right round the world. Their guru guy, a Jesuit priest, but actually a guru guy, Rulla, cites this passage as the be all and end all of proof that God made a mistake in creating us, or better, that God created us in a way that encourages us to save ourselves with coping mechanisms, you know, to cope with all the mistakes God made in making us. In other words, as I heard one student of Rulla say, “We’re the first ones in the history of the Church to find a way to save ourselves!”

I have very many friends who went to this psych institute and I bought the expensive books of Rulla and the institute, such rubbish, and have studied it all with some intensity. I offered the critique about Rulla’s treatment of this passage of Saint Paul to one particularly close friend who was a student of Rulla. He threw such a hissy fit. He left the lunch table angry and pouting and wouldn’t sit at the same table with me or speak to me for weeks. Finally, he apologized and said I was right. Then, after many years, having become a seminary rector, he contacted me though another friend to repeat that, yes, indeed, I was right. How’s that, you ask?

My critique is that they don’t think of sin, at all, even though Saint Paul here speaks of sin repeatedly.  And that’s why they then don’t think of redemption. They don’t think of Christ. Saint Paul does. Behold: after criticizing himself, casting aside coping mechanisms such as is also a manipulative use of religion, Saint Paul points us directly and only to Jesus who is the One to save him, wretch that Saint Paul, on his own, is:

“Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord” (Romans 7:25).

Do we change course by running back and forth, back and forth, back and forth? No. Christ Jesus reaches down and grabs us and snatches us up close to His pierced Heart, and we say: “My Lord and my God.” Thank you, Jesus.

/// Having said all that, don’t think I’m against a good and wholesome psychology. If one takes up the Sacred Scriptures, the writings of Saint Thomas Aquinas and Saint Teresa of Avila and Saint John of the Cross and Saint Therese of Lisieux, to name but a few, one will be able to glean a well rounded and useful psychology, but this is all based on a good, honest friendship with Jesus Christ our Lord.

I categorize this post with “Missionaries of Mercy” because I insist on all this talk of Jesus to my own peril. One makes enemies in this way. Some years ago over in Rome, while I would ever so quietly mention my opinion, the Rulla-ites, overhearing this, would go so far as to threaten a major public debate. They were actually beginning to plot this as something to be held at the Lateran Basilica of all places, that being chosen cleverly, however, as it is the Cathedra of the Successor of Peter. Perhaps one day.

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Shadow-dog Gladiator-dog: Teaching session

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The heavy knotted short-rope, which is like, say, an enemy intruder (I have a good imagination!), is a good demonstrator tool for Shadow-dog who makes me his student in his gladiator school. In the above picture we see how one is to toss ever so calmly one’s adversary into the air with a gentle side-spin so that, in follow-up, one might put one’s entire weight and strength into viciously ripping in the opposite direction, which violent ripping could easily shred to pieces whomsoever the adversary happens to be:

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This ripping spinning motion will spin Shadow-dog himself about 180 degrees and the adversary round about some 540 degrees, and back and forth multiple times so very violently in just nanoseconds, so that I’m thinking he himself is going to be ripped in half, growling so loudly that all the neighbors either laugh with glee at the protection against home-invasion that they all have with Shadow-dog in the neighborhood, or half die of fright with the show that is put on. Meanwhile, Shadow-dog is the friendliest dog around. And the neighbors know that too. He’s so smart. Gooooood dooooggiieee!

You can always tell how good a dog is by how willing they are to teach you their tricks in their justifiable efforts to make you part of the team. Part of being more alpha than a forever alpha dog like a German Shepherd wolf is to be a good partner with him in the job that needs to be done. That’s when they’re in their element.

An absolutely inadequate and inappropriate analogy for which I beg the pardon of my guardian angel, who guards not a dog but me, nor learns from me but rather instructs as John was instructed: “I am a fellow servant of yours” (Revelation 22). But also our guardian angels are in their element, so to speak, when we are with them as fellow servants, fellow slaves, co-workers of our Lord. They teach us how to be warriors, so to speak, in this Church militant, where we fight as best we can to keep the faithfulness and hope that are given to us, the purity of heart and agility of soul that are given to us, the love of God and neighbor that is given to us. We are made into a show, of God’s goodness, really, as Saint Paul has it. Gladiators for God. Shadow-dog is a good example in his own way.

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GSD: “You have to be bad to be good”

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Shadow-dog has been racing about on his patrol, looking like the idiot-dog by practicing his spot-turns on the snowy-wet mud path he’s carved into the backyard. This sprays mud into the air as if his paws are spinning knobby off-road tires of a climber-jeep. When the acrobatics get a bit complicated, he gets himself on an intense learning curve… mid-air. And then… crash. But he gets better at it.

My mom once reprimanded me for the doing this kind of thing – being bad in order to be good – she not quite getting the gist of the process, trying to keep me from getting broken bones while she fretting during some of the more complicated maneuvers of my extreme sports. What she didn’t know is that what I was doing was surely keeping me away from broken bones. You have to be bad in order to be good.

Drawing the analogy with, say, prayer, whereby prayer is an extreme sport, whereby you are brought along without being in control of any progress, our Lord accomplishing a friendship with Him which we could not set as a goal or have any helps or coping mechanisms to lean on while He does this in His way. When He is lifted up on the Cross, He said, He will draw all to Himself. That means He’s drawing us through all the hell that was broken out on Calvary. We already know that we’ll be stupid enough to try to depend on our own strength which we actually don’t have ourselves anyway, and therefore in this way we will surely pull away from Him in this way and that, and we will look mighty stupid in all of this. But He is very patient, and we slowly learn in His grace that He is more important than our ongoing distractions, and we allow ourselves in whatever distraction that hell has to offer, to be stably with Him. Have no fear. You have to bad to be good, you know, not on purpose. No. But go ahead and just tell our Lord, in His grace, “Yes!” You want to begin. You will surely confront your weakness of stupidly depending on your own strength. But that’s part of it. You’re name might be mud for a while. Have no fear. That will turn to a name He gives you, that, as it says in the Good Book, is only known to you and Him. When He calls your name, you’ll be standing right before Him, perhaps with mud all over your face, but – Hey! – you’ll have learned to stand right before Him. And that’s where we want to be.

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State Department: treats to Laudie-dog, Shadow-dog and this donkey

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Did you ever notice that Shadow-dog is much bigger than Laudie-dog? When it comes to treats, Shadow-dog is always the perfect gentleman, letting little Laudie-dog get her treat.

Dearest Charlene Duline, the best diplomat of the State Department that the world has ever known (now retired) – and long-time helper of Father Gordon MacRae, has just sent in a big jug of dog treats along with a box of treats for yours truly. I am humbled.

The thing is, she just had a really bad fall recently and is still going to be recovering for some time to come. How she was able to do this I don’t know. Her favorite of all of us, of course, is Laudie-dog, who, I must admit, is as sweet as ever.

If only I could get Main State to send me something else:

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Dog life: Take your corner

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Laudie-dog likes the far left corner. Shadow-dog prefers the far right corner.

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We did some capital improvement on the back yard of the rectory, putting up a fence which doesn’t at all mark the boundaries of the property but which rather simply gives more room to the dogs to move about and get some exercise.

Having chosen their corners, that hard work was done for the day. Their favorite place is together right back at the back porch of the house. I love that.

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Double reverse psychology trick

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Shadow-dog is slightly larger than Laudie-dog. But Laudie-dog is, apparently, smarter than Shadow-dog. She successfully took over Shadow-dog’s wolf-cave. She is just so laughing on the inside at her brilliant pawipulations. Shadow-dog looks bewildered that he’s been had in his own wolf-cave by someone who’s not even a wolf. Laudie-dog has the run of the whole house, so I told her to come out, and she did, happy to show me, however, that she’s definitely top dog. Shadow-dog was content that he had his own kingdom once again.

Mind you, it’s not that Laudie-dog wanted to take over Shadow-dog’s cave. It’s that she wanted to make sure that he’s jealous of his wolf-cave, so that he insists on staying there and is not tempted to cry to have run of the house as well. Hah.

Meanwhile, Shadow-dog is no fool. He plays the game, letting Laudie-dog think that she has tricked him so that she is content now to stay out of his wolf-cave, banished to life outside the wolf-cave. Double HahHah! His bewildered look above is instead a pleading with me to play along with him in his double-reverse ploy. Yes. Fine. I’m good with that.

Meanwhile, they’ve both teamed up to manipulate me… pawipulate me into thinking that I’m the true landlord of the house. At any rate, everybody’s happy.

I have to wonder how our guardian angels deal with the likes of us. Jesus says that they see the face of God right now, and then… and then… there’s us. Goodness!

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Mud in your eye! Jesus to blind guy

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Google: origin here’s mud in your eye

Laudie-dog is too much of a lady to be caught out in the mud.

Shadow-dog is too much of a wolf not to drag mud around everywhere he goes. He sees life through mud. Literally.

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Shadow-dog proud of his mud-puddle

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O.K., I admit it. It’s a Taj Mahal type of reflecting pool sporting geometric designs. But must the architect, Shadow-dog, be so proud of it that, even in the rain he has to stand guard next to it, again and again taking up his post just there?

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He looks incredulous that I could possibly appreciate his handy-work, um, his paw-work. At any rate, for all those who think I’m so mean to Shadow, making him lie down in the mud in Winter, know that he does have a warm and dry wood-shaving bed that he can climb into at will, and he does, for a while, but then has to go back to guarding his mud puddle.

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And though invited into the house during the day he loves to be outside guarding his mud puddle. When things finally dry out after so very much rain perhaps I’ll have to artificially keep his mud puddle full so that it can be his to guard ever so proudly.

Isn’t that just about how our dear Lord works with us? Thank you, Lord.

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Shadow-dog eating stainless steel

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Water dishes are fair game, I guess. A bit self-destructive if you get thirsty.

So, here’s my temporary solution. Cement blocks. I’m thinking a nicer looking affair would be perhaps six carriage bolts holding the dish down to the cement slab.

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I may have to lay two standing up sideways in the back with another laid over the top front.

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Flowers for the Immaculate Conception (Shadow-monster-dog wins? edition)

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Shadow-dog, pictured here staring down at Laudie-dog next to me, is not so much sitting as now being entrenched in his starting blocks, that is, the new hole he’s re-dug. It’s now his favorite spot. He’s won. He thinks.

He’s been chewing on the rose-bush, the “super-abundant Guadalupe” rose bush. So, It’s been dug out and moved out front. I filled in the hole but he immediately dug it out. But that’s O.K. The rose has now found a new home out front near the road next to the telephone pole where the larger bed of flowers is.

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The rose was clipped down for the Winter, but Shadow-dog finished the job. Fine.

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We’ll see what happens. Perhaps this is where the little grotto of our Lady was supposed to be from the get-go, so that more people could see it. Who wins then?

img_20180121_175319427~2307854138..jpgMeanwhile, the very first warm day we’ve had in it seems like forever saw the blooming of a dandelion, a Lion’s Tooth. All very acceptable to our Lady, as this was provided to her by the Creator of the entire universe. Just simplicity, like a little child. That’s the way. That’s the only way. “Amen I say to you, unless you turn and become as little children you shall not enter into the Kingdom of the Heavens.”

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Laudie-dog becomes concealed carrier

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Up to now, while playing, only Shadow-dog (truly an over-sized German Shepherd) would cover his ferocious canines while trying to convince the much smaller Laudie-dog to play soccer with the double-handled green ball, or a game of tag. A game of tag consists in tapping the back of the other with a paw and running away. Laudie-dog never played tag, until now. Laudie-dog has come into her own, also covering her canines and, here anyway, getting the upper paw. You can tell from her eyes that this is rather distracting for her. She’s a dumbed-down version, if you will, of a Rhodesian Ridgeback, an African Lion Dog. Unusually, she’s a bit small, but has an amazing ridge even twice as wide as the usual. Her ridge is about four inches wide and stands strait up. Amazing when you see it. I didn’t see it for years, not until Shadow-dog arrived. But now, as I saw, she’s come into her own.

She’s now sleeping next to my chair, as is Shadow-dog. :-)

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“I am a DOG with no worms” – Shadow “Maggot, I am, not a man” – GOD

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Since the moment the police arranged for me to get Shadow, a pure-bred German Shepherd, his poops were continuously softer (worms?) and stickier (blood?) until they were like thick water. Enough’s enough. I didn’t want him to bleed out. Off to the veterinarian.

Yep. The entire array of every kind of worm known to dogs were ripping his intestines to shreds. That’s why he was so thin, ribs cutting your hands just about. He was put on a course of two antibiotics for ten days, twice a day, and a large inside the throat “injection” of a good cup-full of white paste one a day for three days.

It would have made for hilarious youtube videos if I were to have filled out antics. I wanted to make sure he was going to get his medicine and not spit it out in the grass. GSDs are too smart for the own good methinks. So I put them manually down his throat. Fun! The wrestling match was on. The rules: he doesn’t bite me, and he never even thought about it, good doggie-puppy that he is. Everything went down so far. His poops became healthy poops, not sticky, not smelly, almost immediately. Father George: Dog Poop Slave.

More than half-way through the process and still having to do the pills morning and evening, and half getting a heart attack with a GSD that is now rapidly putting on healthy weight, with both of us exhausted, both out of breath, both having to sit to catch our breath, it finally hit me to pray to Saint Anthony, Saint Francis, Saint John Bosco, Saint Roch and my Guardian Angel: “Please let this go smoothly.” It’s now twice I did that. No problems at all. It wasn’t pleasant having Shadow be a mere shadow of his former shadowiness. But now he’s a healthy Shadow once again.

Meanwhile, what to do with a maggot? Kill it! We treated Jesus, God-Man, like a maggot. Psalm 22:6. A maggot nailed to the Cross. And the translation is maggot, not simply worm.

By the way, Jesus stood in our place, the Innocent for the guilty, which means that we’re the actual maggots. Humility provides the opportunity of thanksgiving to Jesus.

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Shadow-dog gets a “cage” um… “crate”

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I’m on a steep learning curve with my just acquired 13 month old German Shepherd. This picture shows my failure in trying to keep him from overturning his water dish by surrounding it with solid cement blocks. Nope. He turned it sideways in the “hole” I had made for him to drink out of. So, I got him a huge un-tip-over-able super-size stainless-steel water dish. That works so far.

Meanwhile, the neighbor got him his own outdoor dog-house in addition to Laudie-dog’s dog-house. I thought I might get him a cage, that is, crate, as GSD owners call it, for use inside the house. It’s a 48″ cage with a hard plastic tray, under and over which I put some used carpet bits to keep it quiet and comfy for this gentle monster. He went in right away and sleeps in it at night, all on his own. I haven’t tried to close the door yet. I’ll need some advice for that. But for now, this is good. This is his space. I had put another piece of carpet over the top to give him a sense of a cave, but he ripped that off and unceremoniously tossed it a good dozen feet in the air, leaving me quite amazed. I tried it again and he left it there. I guess as long as he proves to himself he could destroy it he’s happy with it.

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Progress with Shadow-dog

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Not a dog, but a wolf, as they used to be called before our German friends became politically correct to those a bit scared of wolves. Here’s a few seconds of audio of Shadow-dog welcoming me home after being away for only about 90 minutes. Honestly, he gets a little carried away. I think he scares the whole city:

Meanwhile, a breeder/trainer in the parish has agreed to take on the training of Shadow-dog with myself as a welcome challenge otherwise impossible, for free.

Meanwhile, I’m heading down to the Vet right now to get shots regardless of what the previous “owners” said he got or didn’t.

Meanwhile, utterly impossibly, he’s taken up residence in Laudie-dog’s dog-house, which is half his length, half his height, but, hey, that doesn’t stop wolves, right? I now understand the need for a metal “crate” on the owner’s part, and am not too against this as it seems that GSDs think of this not as a cage but as their own private den, and a way to please their owners. So, fine. As it is, he’s just about ready to eat the 27-ton log-splitter.

By the way, this GSD was an absolute surprise. No budgeting for this guy. It all took place within hours. I’m on a steep learning curve. What I’ve learned so far is this, ever so simply, these GSDs are not dogs, but rather wolves. But to me, that’s really cool altogether. I love it.

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Shadow GSD crushing all “needs a job”

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Shadow, in his new collar, crushing what must be a dinosaur hip joint, the huge “ball” of which in in his mouth. As you can see, the other side of the bone was already crushed cleanly in half by this amazing dog. I’m thinking he would make a good “bite dog” saving the lives of police by grabbing armed and dangerous runners hiding under houses etc.

Anyway, bones are not the only thing he’s been crushing. He’s basically eaten the pooper scooper and was going after his dog dish before I rescued it. He’s eaten the manger scene my neighbor gave me, with only the holy family and three kings more or less surviving. He started going after the hose until I stored it. I’m worried for the city’s rolling garbage bin and Laudie-dog’s dog-house. He’s got plenty of toys – and I’ll be getting him a regulation basketball to destroy – but, as others have pointed out, he needs a job. These are work dogs. Here I thought “watch-dog” is a good job, but not enough for him, unless…

I think he needs a bigger yard, so that if the fenced in area weren’t just the back of the house but skirted the house to the front, he would then be able to run back and forth, and that would in fact be “a job.” Thoughts?

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Shadow-dog, holding down the fort

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Shadow, demonstrating how to make the back yard of the rectory look tiny. The tiles temporarily making up the base of the Marian shrine, are one foot square.

Good points:

  • Providence provided under incredible circumstances, no cost to me
  • (reportedly, we’ll see, with papers) pure-bred German Shepherd
  • Pure black, not a spot of white or tan anywhere, not chest, not feet
  • Straight back, as usual for the all-black variety
  • Double-coat, laughing at what never counts as really “cold” weather in WNC
  • Almost four feet from nose to rump plus another 19 inches for the tail
  • Edging toward 27 inches tall
  • At this extraordinarily massive size, even for a GSD, jaw strength competes with the strongest in the world, the Rottweiler
  • Not neutered, super-friendly, gentle, knows who boss, but totally doesn’t know his own strength, or does
  • Can put his front paws on your shoulders as you stand straight up

Challenges:

  • At 12 1/2 months old, had total control of his owners all of his short life (I saw this up-close)
  • Not trained in any way at all, except possibly, to be disobedient (jaw dropping)
  • Never fed any kind of normal diet, hanging out at the high school cafeteria, so, possibly, the absolutely worst diet a GSD could have ever (that’s just upsetting)

Unknown:

  • Can he break a training bite-arm in one bite?
  • Can he learn how to learn, even though the talent has been suppressed by the previous owners?

Known:

  • Even if he is untrainable (I doubt that), his perpetual presence at all the vulnerable parts of the rectory is already an invaluable asset and most appreciated

Laudie-dog:

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  • Laudie-dog, in her house, utterly dwarfed by “Shadow”
  • A bit of turf wars were at foot during the first day, but now they are friends
  • I was really happy to see little Laudie-dog hold her ground with no fear at all, tolerating no hanky-panky, she being fixed, but not he, but she setting proper boundaries immediately, he now behaving as a gentleman, er, gentledog

Tips for training such a smart dog:

  • I have no idea. Have you?

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