NOT the case! I called my sister the next day to check in and Cindy said the pup wouldn't get off the love seat where she sat with her back facing out and her tiny head stuffed behind the cushion. They had to pick her up to take her outside...then pick her up to bring her back in. My sister and I decided they must have kept her crated constantly and didn't give her any attention.
Cin took a family vote and we all decided on the name, Zola. I love the name, although my grandmother may had gotten her feelings hurt if still alive. (Zola was my grandmother's name)
Massey and I went by to visit a few days later. We walked into the kitchen and Zola took off like a rocket scrambling on the hard wood floors trying to get away. You would have thought we were dog catchers toting a big net or Cruella DeVille and a sidekick. It took us ten minutes to catch her just so we could pet the little nut. I told my sister they should have named her Zoloft. I'd call my sister every day to check on the patient and there was always a new story:
(My sister) "Well, today I got out a box of dog treats to give her one which made her instantly nervous...guess she's never seen a box before. Then I opened the box to get one out and dropped the box on the floor. When the box hit the floor treats went everywhere and you would have thought I shot off a M-80 in the kitchen. She took off running lickity split, leaving a nice trail of urine behind her."
They were still having to pick her up to take her outside, then after having to catch her again, pick her up to bring her back in.
A week or so went by and finally my sister decided they needed to practice tough love. They were sitting with her on the sofa in the living room (another couch where she likes to burrow her head behind the cushions) and Cindy clipped on a 20 ft retractable dog leash to lead her outside. Cindy said the minute that hook clicked onto her collar she shot off like a bullet and you could actually hear the line zipping out like a fishing line, "Zzuuuuurrrrr!" Cin said Zola got as far as the kitchen before the line gave which scared her even more, eliciting not only urine this time but a nice squirty trail of dog poop then broke a kitchen chair of our great grandmother's that is over seventy five years old trying to get away. Yep , she's special needs.
Time to call in the big gun.
I told her we should bring Ziggy over for a play date. Now my Ziggy's a bad dog, but he's a GOOD bad dog. He has a great temperament and is still at that playful age. We got to Cin's house and she already had Zoloft out in the fenced in side yard waiting to meet her cousin. Ziggy is always happy and really excited once we got him in the house and he smelled Zola. We took him outside on his leash and Zola took off like a brindle missile. Massey was fretting over me letting Ziggy off the leash while Ziggy was trying to pull my bony arm out of the socket while winding the leash around both my legs. Massey had both hands over her ears and a terrified look on her face (she's witnessed too many dog fights at our house) and I've never been too sure how putting hands over your ears helps but she held the pose as I simply leaned down and un leashed the Zigster. Zola is pretty quick but Ziggy is a freaking hyena and caught up with her in under three seconds.
She went submissive, belly up and looked terrified. We waited, and so did Ziggy. The minute she got the courage to get up and scramble away he was after her like white on rice. He never tried to hurt her, but boy was he ready to play! He chased her non stop for literally ten minutes. Then while he stopped to take a leak on a tree , Zola actually ran up to HIM! Of course she shot off just as fast but now we knew she liked my good bad dog. They played and played and played, both frothing at the mouth. It didn't occur to Ziggy she was female for a good half hour. By then the play date was over so we clipped Zig back on his leash and took him out of the yard.
SUCCESS! Sometimes you just gotta let a dog be a dog. (or force it to)
When I call my sister and she says hello I will ask in a tiny voice "Can I speak to Zola?" She always replies "She's in therapy right now."
I called today to check on the patient and my sister told me Zoloft was all in a tizzy because they bought a new black rug for the home office which leads to the door out to the side yard. She was terrified of the rug and they have to pick her up and carry her across it to the door. She also added insult to injury by bringing home the mammoth carpet cleaner from her church. Zoloft seems convinced she is a Jew and the carpet cleaner is either Mel Gibson or Hitler.
On another note, worked today. I should have taken a boat to work instead of Massey's car. It rained like crazy for two hours and only one woman dared to park, get out of her car and come inside. Then the rained stopped and had a guy pick up his $2,200 plus layaway. Added bonus! He brought help to load the sofa, love seat, recliner, counter top kitchen table and four chairs. BAM! Commission.
After that I sat and watch the torrent of rain for three hours while eating microwave popcorn and reading my Game of Thrones book. I moved from chaise lounge to recliner to comfy sofa and back to the chaise before the rain let up.
Then a random guy came in with his wife saying they were just browsing but left thirty minutes later after buying a king size mahogany bed and mattress. I helped him squeeze the boxes with the headboard, footboard and side rails into his SUV with the back seats down , then helped hoist the king size mattress onto the roof and helped him tie it down. I'm skinny but I'm strong...especially when working on commission.
Read for another hour when a woman and her daughter came in interested in a couch, love seat and sofa table. Another $800. She needed to finance which used to scare the wits out of me but through trial and error have learned the system and pushed her through in under thirty minutes.
Who's a boss? "I'M A BOSS!"
I called my sister to check on Zoloft and told her about my day. She said it sounded like I knew what I was doing to which I replied "You'd think so, wouldn't ya!"
Life is good. Life is tough but when you tough it out the results can be amazing.
I lived a golden life for seventeen years then watched in horror with my sister while my momma died in under thirty seconds while out shopping for school clothes. Plodded aimlessly through my twenties wasting a decade of my life then met Tim.
We started poor but after fourteen years broke through the six figure window with three kids and a comfortable home. Vacations every year, big savings account and a hefty 401K.
Within a year my husband lost his job and then I was fired from mine. We went through savings, we went through the 401 and we simply relied on family, friends and even strangers.
We made it. We survived and we were moving forward. My husband has once again been downsized out of a job but am not worried. I refer to the chart above and realize life and success isn't a straight shot but a goal to reach.
The road to success can twist and turn as much as it wants but we are determined to follow it and will.
I'm getting better at sales, peeps seem to love me at the restaurant AND the furniture store. I'm feeling more confident every day and sleep better every night.
Pray for Zoloft, she's a special needs dog but we love her.
Pray for us because I am a firm believer in the power of prayer and will continue to pray for the world...it's pretty sad out there. Too much hate and too little love.
It's a messed up world but broke as we are, we're some of the lucky ones. At least I can still laugh about life...what else can you do?
Waking up tomorrow and going into work selling like a machine!
Happy Fourth to you all and please remember, no matter which party you are affiliated with ...this is still hands down the greatest nation on earth.
God Bless America!
PS I am sure there are typos but will correct them tomorrow...but you still get the gist.
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