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With the exception of the first couple days, things have seemingly gone very well with Yankee. In fact, most of the time, that is the truth. But like my grandfather, I am quite good at pretense. Putting up that happy facade while behind the scenes, things are not so peachy.
Earlier, that facade cracked.
I had just come home from work. Yanky’s first day at the office. On the most part, it had gone well. He was a bit overwhelmed to begin with and either clung to my side or hid under the desk. As the day wore on, he got used to the activity and seemed to relax. By mid afternoon, he was actually fast asleep under my desk while I tried unsuccessfully to make any sort of progress with my work. Just one of those days.
I got home and took Yanky down to the garden. He had been restless in the bus and it was very clear that Nature called. I let him off lead, shut the gate and went to unlock my room. Reaching into the cup holder on the side of my chair, there he was, his face in mine. He had jumped the fence again. The fence was about 15cm higher than his head, so no mean feat. Fractionally annoyed, I took hold of his collar and took him back. Only to have him do it again.
How can I reprimand him for returning to me? I can’t. The act of jumping the fence was already forgotten and he was just so pleased to see me. But I was still annoyed and told him so as I chased him into my room. I had not seen Gemma all day and knew she was hungry.
Next thing I know, Chris is yelling at me from next door to stop my shouting. He has had it with my shouting. Says he who is so loud on the phone sometimes and can bite someone’s head off when in a bad mood. I don’t remember what was said by whom, but I told him I was not shouting. He had not heard me shout yet.
But then he had. One word first thing this morning when Yanky broke free and tried to chase a cat at 06:00 this morning.
So I got Gemma’s food, took it to her under the tree in the corner there and just burst into tears as she ate. It feels like she’s becoming feral in a way. Always on the look out for Yanky. It might be my imagination but I think she’s losing weight. She will not settle within arm’s reach of me. Any attempt to pick her up and she moves away. To say that I am worried about her would be an understatement.
Does he think this is easy for me? Yanky has to be 100% voice controlled. Any discipline more than a slight jerk of the chain, could be bad PR for the Association. Heck, he is way too strong for me to hurt him anyway, but with that said, how am I to control him, if not with the tone of my voice? It is a very fine juggling act. One which is not even two weeks old.
It's my life ... 