ACD Spotlight Page 30

Respect:

A Story

By Catherine Zinsky

Allow me to tell you a short story. This tale is
based on a true story. Names, however, have
been changed to protect the privacy of those
involved. It begins...

Once upon a time (I always wanted to write
that!) a friend of mine purchased a new pup.

Let

s say it

s a Doberman. It was the puppy of

her dreams, one she had waited a long time for.
This puppy not only had it

s own stroller, it had

its own motorhome. Their own house looked like
an explosion of Pups-R-Us. Toys of every con-
ceivable size and shape were strewn all through
the house. The toy box was upchucking stuffed
animals, there were so many. The puppy was
content.

About four months later (Dobe is now 6 months
old,) I had occasion to meet up with this friend.
Let

s call her Alice. I asked how Rose, the Do-

berman, was doing.

"Well..." she hemmed, crinkling her nose. "All
right, I guess."

"What?" I asked, somewhat surprised. "Is she
not living up to your expectations?" I

m thinking

dysplasia--or worse.

"Yes and no." She looked away. "The truth is,
Catherine, I

m not sure she

s fitting in too well.

Maybe we

re just too sedentary for such an ac-

tive little girl."

I chuckled. "Puppies certainly are demanding.
There

s no getting around that."

Unfortunately I had to run and couldn

t pursue

the topic further. "Bring her around sometime.
I

d love to see her again."

Another month passed before I met up with Al-
ice again. She seemed a bit...dejected. "Can I
bring Rose over?" she asked. "I need some ad-
vice."

Seven month old Rose bounded into my yard
and immediately took off to explore, barely ac-
knowledging my presence.

"Rose!" Alice called. "Rose, here!" Rose ran fur-
ther afield.

"Rose," Alice called again. And again. Then
again.

"This is what she does, Catherine." Alice gave
me a hapless, pleading look. Just then Rose
came racing by in full throttle, side-swiping Alice
before zooming away again. "It

s gotten to the

point where we don

t think we even like this

dog."

Rose raced over to Alice

s training bag and rum-

maged around, surfacing with some sort of
fuzzy toy. She raced away, flinging it about as
she ran. "And yesterday she curled a lip at Pete.
Pete was only making a sandwich." Pete is Al-
ice

s husband. "It seems that anymore she pre-

fers being alone than even being with us. "

Rose was back in the training bag. The original
fuzzy toy was abandoned over by the fence line.
She took out a furry ball and galloped off.

"It

s no wonder." I kept my eyes on Rose. I

needed to keep my eyes on Rose! I wasn

about to be plowed under by an out of control,
delinquent Doberman.

"What?" Alice leaned towards me.

"For heaven

s sakes, Alice. Look at her." I have

to admit that I might have sounded a bit exas-
perated. "She

s having a great time. Why does

she need you?"