If you walk past Shane, his body gets all stiff, his eyes get wide, showing evidence of his wild-dog roots, and his mind shifts into fear mode. Even when he lies on his back, begging for a nice belly rub, the instant his wish comes true, he throws himself into a paralytic state, and you'd swear he were having one of those bad dreams where you're trying to run away from an unspeakable dark monster, but you can't because your body is paralyzed. Yeah. We've all had those dreams, but Shane lives that way.
Joan's working on his ready-to-fight whine, which he inaugurates every time we walk past a dog. She makes Cesar Millan noises and "corrects" him the instant a whine escapes from his dog lips. But, still, there's nothing but a Prozac pill between Shane and obsessive-compulsive.
Maybe there are some dogs who just can't make it in the human world; I mean, it's logical, since there are lots of humans who wouldn't be able to learn all the etiquette and social nuances in a dog world. Now that I think about it, there are lots of humans who can't figure out their own human rules of conduct. So, no surprise there.
We're not giving up on Shane. But, maybe we've got to come to terms with the fact that he's a dog. No easy task, living with Joan.
Best wishes, Juno
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