An important thing to realize when you have a German Shepherd puppy is that initially they know nothing.
They are puppies.
Everything you show them is new to them.
You sort of assume they have your mental picture of things, but they don’t.
It’s easy to forget. You might think: if I think this about that, she already must too. Unless her birth mommy is around, there’s no-one but you to show her the doggy ropes. It’s exciting, when you think about it this way: you have the opportunity to help shape a young, blank-slate puppy life such that it can thrive in a world that’s not always chockful of pleasant people.
Today Geneva woke up refreshed from last night’s sleep in the crate.
I took her to the tennis courts and pool park, where she played soccer with the football the “Mexican” groundskeepers use on their lunch break. She is already an excellent soccer player, but is unaware how sad Pele has become in old age.
She sees a ball, and plays with it.
We then walked by the tennis courts toward the big lake.
We stopped and watched the long beaked white Ibis. She has never see a flock of Ibis before, and she sat down, cocked her head in that German Sheppie way, and assessed them for a while.
We continued on, and she saw more birds: wood stork, willets, and various migratory birds that I could not identify.
Kids on bikes rode by, right wing geezers in pricey Escalades, workmen in green electric carts, mommies with pony tails and just so leotards pushing prams — in other words, a world of mental stim for my baby girl.
When we returned home, I dumped her in the pool to get the weed killer poisons off her paws, and then she ran around some playing with ice cubes before sacking out.
I won’t be taking her to my wife’s store where that accident happened yesterday (see yesterday’s Crash post). The owner of that shop is devastated. They have been quite unlucky with their venture and this is not going to help in that regard.
There are lots of things going on here and back home in Westchester, NY, where my wife and I first met. Here cops are being shot on I-95, and in Bronxville, some kind of sex ring has been uncovered at Sarah Lawrence college.
Geneva doesn’t know about any ot this.
She is unaware of the results of the New Hampshire primary, and could care less about the moneygrubbing orange turdball — a sneeringly vile nihilist c**t who fundamentally despises pluralistic America and is obsessed with turning our country into a dystopic wasteland as part of his hate-filled, demented, criminal legacy — and she also is unaware that the so called “most powerful man of the free world” (a phrase that can longer be used without a cynical overlay of gallows humor) constantly gets a revolving door of corrupt spineless lackeys to pervert the justice system of the United States on his personal behalf.
Since being in the crate, Geneva’s behavior (especially the biting) has improved dramatically, and now she even heels when we walk.
I realized yesterday that all she wants is to be shown what to do.
She’s a quick study too.
Today, we are just going to hang out together in our own little world, and put the madness outside on total Thoreau ignore.
Just the way we like it.
Of course it turns out that the ring leader of the Sarah Lawrence lurid sex cult scandal is yet another Republican piece of garbage with indirect ties to Rudy.
Whether it’s Amy or Mayor Pete or even Bernie, and we also get the Senate, the next Democrat President of the United States might have the steel balls and congressional backing needed to make the Reconstruction Era seem like a Sunday picnic.
I’m hoping it doesn’t have to come to that.