Abby - the Tricky Dog
and Tender Tom (below)
About ten years ago I moved from an apartment to a townhouse. One motivation was my desire to get a couple of dogs. After the move, I started looking for dog number one. Unfortunately, the type of dog I wanted was hard to find. I cruised the local pounds for weeks without any luck. Then one day while windsurfing off the SF airport, I realized that I wasn't enjoying myself. This puzzled me because I usually love windsurfing. Then I received a very clear message: You aren’t having fun because your dog is at the pound waiting for you. I looked at my watch. It was 4:30 and the pound closed at 5:00. I covered the two miles to shore in about five minutes (yes sailboards go that fast), derigged and flew the mile distance to the nearby pound.
Is This Any Way to Look for a dog? You bet.
Windsurfers only: that is a 4.2 square meter sail.
I weigh 150. I'm planning on a 9' board. Notice that
there aren't any white caps. It is blowing about 25.
The water is so smooth it is almost glassy. It is one
half mile off-shore. It is hard to find, but I can.
It is there most of the time the wind blows.
Most days of the year, it blows.
In one direction, it is a
deep, beam reach.I ran through the pound knowing that I would spot my dog in an instant, but didn't see any dog that fit my requirements. I was about to head to the parking lot, but I have a lot of faith on those messages, see my book the The Intuition Toolbox. I was convinced that my dog had to be there. Then, I thought that maybe my dog was inside the pen area when I was looking at the dog runs and in the dog runs when I was looking at the pens. I ran back to the pen area and sure enough my dog had been playing tricks on me setting the stage for our life together. She had short white hair with a black spot around her eye. In the picture below, she is magically wondering what the film ID number is doing in the picture. How did she know the film ID would be superimposed on the picture? Dog instinct and her tricky nature. Look three picture down where she is giving her thoughtful pose. Look look at each eye separately, the white side and the "dark side." Are there two dogs there or not?
When I said, "there you are" she pranced around and wagged her tail. Her name was Abby which was OK by me. She was one and half years old, spayed, house broken, and pretty well trained. She cost me $20. My training of Abby:
On the way home I bought Abby some chopped meat and feed her about half. With a long rope we went to the park. She learned that "come here" could not be ignored without being yanked around by some long thing on her neck. After a short while she was happy to come whenever I called her.
Whenever Abby Ran, She Smiled
Then I started hiding on her. I can imagine her reaction when she turned around to find that the meat-man had disappeared? I kept hiding on her whenever she got a little too far from me. Its easy to hide on most dogs; just lay down in the grass. Soon she realized that she had to stay around or she might loose meat-man. The next day we went to Stanford where she quickly realized how easy it was to loose meat-man in a crowd if she got more than a couple of feet away. In two days I had a dog that I could walk without a leash, but I still hide on her a couple of times whenever we go out.
Back to The Table of Contents | One Final Mystery Uncovered
My Years With Abby
Abby taught me great magic. It had to due with a book which I loved so much that I read it over and over. When Abby first arrived in my life she had kennel cough. It is very contagious so I had to cure her before I could look for her playmate. I took Abby to two vets and gave her a ton of medicine, but couldn't get rid of that darn cough. Then another thought came into my mind from apparently nowhere, "open the book to the bookmark and see if the answer is there." That seemed so strange, but I had trained myself for years to recognize the sound of my own thoughts - the first step in telepathy and the only one that is really important. I opened the book and read about the daughter of one of the main characters. She had gotten sick and wasn't getting better. A doctor was called in. After the examination the doctor proclaimed that she would be better soon. Coincidence? Think again. The daughter's name was Abby and my Abby (same spelling) was soon better. After that I could go to the book and find exactly matching problems to my life complete with the outcomes. Abby came to me completely trained; she only needed to teach me a few things. Thank you Abby, thank you, thank you.
Abby the Master of Disaster
As you can see Abby doesn't really have a spot around her eye, it is more like a dark side. Her dark side isn't malicious; it is more mischievous, but masterfully so. Let me give you an example of her mastery. I was working on my car and had a tray of tools and parts on the fender. It was well out of Abby's reach (I already had some examples). When I was done, I lifted the tray off the fender. For just a moment the tray was within striking distance. Very casually, Abby got up on her hind legs and with a delicate paw reached up and tipped over the jar of nuts and bolts. They went everywhere. Had she touched any other place on that entire tray, nothing would have happened. What is most magical is that she couldn't see what she was touching. I yelled at her and she jumped away. Then she turned around and gave me her most pathetic look (dogs practice that look when you are at work). It was too funny and I started laughing. When Abby saw that she was going to get away with it, she did a gig. Now I don't mean something that looks like a gig. Abby does a perfect gig - up on two legs and shaking all about - anytime she gets away with a big one.
Ready Aim, You Shoot
Once a neighbor woman was sitting in the common area of the condo complex where we once lived. Tom and Abby were by the trees trying to talk the squirrels down. Another neighbor let his male dog out to play with Tom and Abby. After a minute or two Abby came over and peed on the lawn about three feet from the woman, just a little. I couldn't believe it. Years ago, I had taught her to never pee in the common area and she hadn't slipped, ever. The male dog walked over to cover the scent with his own, lifted his leg and peed right on the arm of the woman. That day Abby gave herself an A in geometry. I gave the neighbor lady +A in tolerance; she didn't kill me because, clearly Abby caused it.
One time, we were outside near the street. A woman was walking by. She said, "what nice dogs you have." I said that the white one would come over to her if she called her name and I spelled out A-b-b-y. The woman called Abby in a very animated and cute voice and Abby cavorted all the way over to her. I mean Abby was bouncing off the mail boxes. By the time Abby had danced over to her, the woman had clearly fallen in love, but not with me. Typical.
Talking Abby
Abby loved going to the vet, but hated being confined anywhere near or inside the vets. If I kept her in the van when I took Tom in (my other dog), she would put out the loudest sounds you ever heard from a dog that wasn't a bark, She knew that I didn't like barking. She would make this pathetic howling/talking sound that was complete gibberish, but sounded like words. I believe she was imitating our talking and thought she was doing a perfect job of it. Nobody every explained to her that we make sense.
Once, Abby got another fox tail in her nose and a vet friend said she would take care of it for me if I just brought some ice cream for her staff. Since she was an emergency vet, I brought Abby in at 7:00 PM. When I called at 6:00 the next morning, the receptionist asked me which dog was mine. I said the Spuds look-a-like. She said, "oh, the talking dog." Now Abby's "talking" is really loud and if she does it for more than a minute or two it would drive you crazy so I asked, "how long did she do it for?" After the reply, I knew I would have to get the double chocolate fudge ripple. "All night."
Tender Tom
Tom was much easier to find. I'd like to say that I found him in the woods. That happened to me in Taiwan, but that is a very long story. I actually found Tom in San Francisco.
Tom almost always smiles
The big concern was if Tom and Abby would get along. One problem with Abby is her appearance; she looks a little like a pit bull. I brought them together at the park:
"Who are you?"
"Hay, who are you chasing?"
"Ha ha, over-run, over-run"
If Abby caught Tom he could account for himself pretty well:
"Here, let me rip your face off."
Actually, they played together pretty well:
"Bank right"
"Bank left right"
Tom turned out to be an amazing ball dog which was fine with Abby who liked to chase him back and forth:
Tom the Love Puppy
Tom was born a puppy and died a puppy. When he was ten years old someone asked how old he was. When I said ten they replied, "Months?"
Some of my friends would say, "Tom is love." Almost every woman who ever visited me actually kissed Tom. Tom did a lot better than I did and he knew it. As soon as he got kissed he would look at me. He was very competitive and had better moves that I ever had. But, he liked the really young ones. Yes, he was a dirty old dog.
All the places I took him and all the things we did together Tom never helped me meet a woman. But, if he spotted a five year old blond, he would drag me across six lanes of traffic to make his move. First he would sit on her foot. I tried that only once. Then he would look at his victim with doe eyes. Sure enough he would get a hug and a kiss. Who kisses dogs? I can't believe that girls, young women, and old women alike would kiss the dog of a complete stranger.
Tom the Talker
I know you are thinking, "no way." Way. Did you know that "way" in Chinese means can?
It started with "out". Sometimes I would put on my shoes and leave without taking Tom and Abby with me. Tom and Abby couldn't stand the suspense so Tom did the obviously thing by saying "out?" as soon as I started putting on my shoes. Abby would simply jump all over me. I finally got those tennis shoes with Velcro. When Tom started asking "out?" I would say yes or no depending on the situation. Tom soon learned "yes." He would say "out?" I would say "no" and he would say "yes." "No." "Yes." "No." "Yes." You can imagine how many times a dog would do that. We were having a conversation, but he would never do it in front of anyone. But wait there is more.
In the morning I would do sit-ups, I would ask Tom, "where's the ring?." He would search the house, bring me the ring, and I would throw it for him. Tom will fetch till his legs fall off. One morning, I knew the ring was outside and it was Tom's falt. When I started doing my sit-ups, Tom couldn't find his ring. He would come over with his hopeless look and I would just ask him, "where's the ring?" Off he would go again looking for it. After a couple of trips around the house he finally remember that he had just looked. I asked him again, "Where's the ring?" He totally blew me away by casually saying, "I don't know." It sounded like a human humming the words with their mouth closed. Tom had all the modulations down perfectly. I couldn't believe it so I asked him three times. Each time he said the same thing, but the last time he was able to get in some real frustration, "I DON'T KNOW."
Tom and Abby are very sensitive about being mutts and their lack of breeding. So they took up opera:
Fido, Fido Fidooooooooo
Tom the Magician
Do you know those magic acts where they put someone in a box with a bunch of chains and a minute later the very same person would walk right out on stage? I think Tom taught them that. I built a dogie door under the sink. I carpeted the little area under there and both Tom and Abby loved to hide under there especially when I cooked. After dinner I would sit in my living room chair and Tom would try and sneak past me to go upstairs and lie on their bed. I shouldn't say "try" because Tom always succeeded. If you saw the layout of my living room you would say, "how could any dog sneak past anyone, it is too narrow here. Magic is the only answer. One night I decided I was going to catch him once and for all. First I checked under the sink, one Tom in place. I sat down, picked up my book and strained to remain aware of my peripheral vision. I only had a small area to cover, Tom could either walk right past the right side of the chair that only had two feet of space between the wall and me or walk around the room divider which would force him to walk right in front of me. I decided to read three sentences. When I was finished, I thought I hadn't even given him a fighting chance. I walked backwards into the small kitchen so he couldn't dance around me as I turned. I looked under the sink. No Tom. My first thought was "he must be in the back yard," but I wasn't going to take the chance looking outside. I kept my eye on the sink area as I walked backwards through the downstairs. I didn't turn around until I was on the stairs themselves. Up, up, up. Unbelievable. Tom was in his bed with a huge smile or was he laughing? There is only one way he could have gotten there - right through the ceiling.
Another of Tom's tricks was tennis ball materialization. Since I knew this trick well, I would always check him out when we went walking in the park. I didn't use leashes on my dogs unless I took them to the vet. They stay around so well that a friend of mine took them to her office. It was a big office. Abby disappeared and we know about Abby's little tricks. Boy did she have fun, what a disaster, but I digress. Walking though the park, I would often look at Tom and see that he had no ball in his mouth. I would look again and there, in his mouth was a tennis ball. I never figured out were he got them. To this day I believe he could will a tennis ball into existence.
One of the best things about my old condo was its proximity to a wild area that runs along Stevens Creek. We would walk miles along the trail that followed the creek:
Life was good, but it is not indefinite.
If you want to know what happened to Tom and Abby, go to the The Tom and Abby Memorial a sad but magical story.
Back to The Table of Contents There are much better cancer treatments than chemo, but your doctor is not even allowed to talk about them. What Happened to Good Medicine?
Is there a method for quickly testing alternative cancer treatments on dogs and other animals? There sure is but it is based on advanced principles with which many people are unfamilar.
