I’m sort’ve certain that I told you this one on of my very first posts two years ago, that whn I first met Gerry, it was at a “meet an greet” at a feed store in CT.
I spied on him, at first, and watched how he interacted with the other dogs, and then someone talked to me and called his name, which he responded to immediately. It wasn’t his original name, but that of the veterinarian that saved his life over 4 months.
Once they brought him to me, they put him in a holster that I was used to, and he walked with me, listened to me talk, but he wouldn’t sit down. After awhile, I noticed that he was “at stance” the entire time, and I was concerned about his ability to relax when kindness was offered to him.
After 45 minutes or so, I was tired and sat down. Gerry stood. I began to sing, “Blackbird” by The Beatles out of habit, out of concern, and my never ending love of this tune since I heard it when I was in my early teens.
After a bit, I kid you not, my boy sat down. I was singing softly right into his left ear, and he seemed to relax. I was overwhelmed with hope. I wanted him to “like” me in a few short hours; a difficult demand of any living creature.
He did though. He sat while I sang what lyrics I could remember and softly sang them into his ears. I have never loved a Beatle’s song as much, and I knew, that I could take him home, because he relaxed and sat with me, and let me pet him. He didn’t make a sound inthe six hours I spent with him that afternoon, and never really did hear much from him unless he saw deer in HIS yard. Gah, I miss him so much.