Long day. A day of shaking out, tossing my head and owning the rattle in my gut. That kettle drum tattering. It went off to remind me of the bell I didn’t hear at Caledon. For whatever reason, without second-guessing myself and beyond reasoning. Something was missing. Maybe, maybe maybe doesn’t matter.
I had to reabsorb the letter asking for a trial run after reading it and seeing how full of conditions and hesitations it was. B saw it as well and I think it made her hesitate, as well it should. I stepped up and claimed the rattle and bowed out.
She was sweet. She was agreeable and pretty, but a certain spark, a joke, was missing. I think she is a serious dog and that’s fine…only not for me now right. Actually I don’t really know who she is. But not mine. I am little sad about it because she is so exquisite in so many ways.
So I backed off and decided to wait and see how the Buzz litter turns out. If the pups fulfill the parents’ promise of steady joyfulness, and I can socialize a young pup like mad …then it could be fabulous. Meantime I am free as Carmie grows and maybe grows too much, or flies her flag too high too often (that tail in the air like a wolf) and becomes available.
In any case. I have to pursue the English Cocker a bit further to some kind of conclusion. And I was just not ready. Although I did wash Olivia’s vari-kennel and the bed that goes in it in preparation.
I can breath and I can wait to get excited. I can read more about therapy work and find a name. Because if this dog doesn’t, for whatever reason, turn out to be a therapy dog, I have to still cherish and adore her/him.
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