I can, of course. I do all the time.

"There's a good boy."

"Want a treat?"

"Leave the cat alone!"

"Saba, go to your mat!"

I say all those things daily, but I mean really talk to the dog. I mean explain to him in-depth why most of his pack has abandoned him. Why it's only him and I in a house that's a little bit more packed away and empty every day. I wish I could've explained to him why I left him with some guy he didn't know for three weeks. I'm back now, but we're hardly a pack of two.

Alas, I can't, so we get a lot of this...


We have a little over two more weeks of this. And then?

And then I'll be wishing I could explain to him why I'm putting his crate in a van and driving to Boston, why I'm putting him on a plane and flying him across the Atlantic, and then why we'll be spending another day driving from London dead North until we hit the heart of Scotland. I wish I could explain to him that once all that's done his pack will be there to greet him. They'll shower him with love. There will be that boy that plays Saba-stick with him. And that girl that cuddles him. And the alpha-mom, she'll be there too. They'll be a lovely enclosed lawn and garden to dash about in, and lots of cows nearby to eyeball. I wish he knew that he'll soon be taking epic walks through Scottish moorland, up mountains and through hills swarming with rabbits.

Alas, I can't.

It's funny being a dog owner. It doesn't at all occur to me that I should be saying all the same things to the cat. The cat's fine. The dog, however...

Well, we'll take walks. He'll get extra treats. And all will eventually be well.

Labels: Family Stuff, Random Ruminations