Several of my friends swear by animal communicators. You know, those people that say they can speak to animals. I have my doubts, but after hearing the reports from some of my friends after these readings, it seems some of these Dr. Doolittle heirs may be on to something.
My question lies more with my friends than the psychics. My pals really want to hear their pet’s opinions.
Not me. What if I found out what my animals really think? What if they hate me?
Animal Psychic: Mickey, why did you blow the left lead at the horse show? Sharon is worried that you are hurt.
Mickey: If you had to schlep that blubberbutt around a course and try to decipher what the hell she is asking me to do, you’d miss the lead change too. Tell her to lose a few and learn to ride. And more snacks might help. Lots more.
AP: Okay…
Mickey: Tell her verbatim. And I need a new halter.
That’s just Mickey. I tremble at what the dogs might have to say. I think the discussion might center primarily on goodies, or lack there of.
However there is one thing I do know. Contrary to what some of my friends and family members believe, I don’t think any of my fur family are actively trying to kill me. It just sometimes appears that way.
There is an old joke about Great Dane owners based on the idea that we will all be found dead on the floor after tripping over our dogs in the dark. That is not as funny as it sounds.
My late beloved Murray probably did more damage to me than all my other dogs combined. It was never, ever, on purpose.
It’s a fact that Murray loved me more than life itself. But stuff happens.
Dog agility is not usually considered a dangerous sport. Yet I have a scar on my face from teaching Murray to run through a tunnel. Someone held him in front of the tunnel entrance while I stood at the exit, calling him. If I had stopped to consider how terrified he was of strangers, I might have calculated the speed he would use to get through the tunnel to me when they let go, and I’d have stepped back a bit. Instead as soon as he was released, he ran as fast as a giant dog doing the army crawl through a tunnel could go, and knocked me down. I walked away with a nasty cut and a bloody nose.
You would have thought that experience would have taught me something. But no.
When we taught him to climb the dog walk, Murray made it to the top before he realized how far off the ground he was. He looked down and saw me alongside him, albeit, five feet below. He made the obvious Murray choice, and jumped down, fully expecting me to catch all 145+ pounds of him.
To say that he flattened me, is putting it mildly. I had a few impressive bruises but his trust in me was shaken for a long time. He only did a dog walk once again, four years later at a trial. I was so shocked I forgot the rest of the course.
My riding accidents are usually my fault as well. If you are sensing a theme, you are correct.
People ask me, since I have been riding horses since childhood, why I still take lessons. The simple reason is that I am an idiot. As shown above, I never seem to learn.
No matter how many times I ask Mickey to do the impossible and leave a stride (or two!) out before a jump, he wisely ignores me and chips instead. Plop, I fall off. D’oh.
As I said, I’m not bright.
The only time I have been hurt by a horse on purpose was as few years back. I was jumping a horse I had leased that morning. The jump was perfect. Then he propped hard on landing. Naturally I flew off and landed really, really hard.
It was not my fault that I broke my pelvis. It was a deliberate move on his part.
That’s not normal. Most my accidents are more like the incident last week.
I was lifting Ruckus, now 50ish pounds, into the SUV. Since I needed leverage as I picked her up, I put the bulk of her weight on the cast covering my wrist. She chose that precise moment to push off and leap in the air to reach up and lick my face.
Instead she clobbered my chin with her surprisingly hard head. The impact split my lip.
Not her fault. Or at least not on purpose.
If I do go missing, please have someone check my house. More than likely, I tripped over a dog, who then sat on me, and I passed out while they were licking me.
I don’t think the pets are intentionally trying to hurt me. But you might want to call an animal psychic just in case.
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