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I think my dog is possessed

January 13, 2011

And I’m not referring to that funny way he tilts his head or the running and barking (while lying down) in his sleep. Nor is his head spinning around and he’s not vomiting pea soup.

But he’s definitely channeling Sasha. Proof you want?
He was/is the younger, healthier dog. He was happy with his two walks a day. If it got really cold or snowed he might beg to go out and act like a doofus in the backyard, but he was never waiting at the back door, legs crossed and whining. Sasha was incontinent. Emergency trips to the back yard were the norm. Even with an extra late evening walk, rare were the days she’d make it through the night. The only time Chet needed the backyard bathroom was if something (stuffed animal, sock, garbage) upset his delicate tummy. Now? Every freaking night. Any freaking hour. Twice already tonight.

Sasha had spinal degeneration and couldn’t always tell where here hind end was. This led to difficulties navigating stairs. Chet has no such issues, and yet our back stairs now confound him. He’ll slide down the top portion of them and I find him whining in the basement not attempting to climb them solo. If I walk beside him he’s fine, on his own? Total spaz.

Related to the falling down, Sasha would trip standing still. Chet has now landed on his snout so hard he put a tooth through his lip.

Chet was never a food thief. Let me clarify, he’d swipe an entire ham off the counter in the blink of an eye and often enlisted Ceebee’s help to score the Christmas turkey, but toast, cereal, V’s milk? Didn’t interest him in the least. Yet these were some of Sasha’s favorite things. The drama, the tears when V left her food at toddler height and Sasha discovered these snacks left conveniently at doggy height! But now? Chet follows V around waiting to pounce on that forgotten bowl of cheerios.

And finally, Sasha was our snuggle bunny. Before her hips got so bad and before we bought the tallest bed in the world, she’d hop on the bed in the blink of an eye. We’d find her on furniture; she never seemed to understand that her head poking over the back of the couch in the front window was a dead giveaway as we pulled into the laneway. By the time we got in the door she’d have skidded back over the her bed. Another dead giveaway? Her bed wadded up in the corner. Thunderstorm? There she’d be tucked in beside you on the couch, panting and shaking. Chet preferred solid ground. ‘Preferred’ I say because lately he’s been jumping in to V’s bed when she’s not around. This has led to (I kid you not) many reverse Goldilocks moments.

I don’t feel so bad when I slip up and say I’m taking the dogs for a walk, because I now know Sasha’s in there too!

2 Comments leave one →
  1. January 14, 2011 8:42 pm

    I’ve heard cats will do this, maybe dogs do too: adopting mannerisms of departed buddies. I’m kinda hoping, though, that when our eldest cat shuffles off her mortal coil, that certain mannerisms *don’t* get passed along!

  2. January 14, 2011 8:50 pm

    Had to put my Dagmar down on my 50th birthday; as if I wasn’t depressed enough…


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