I’m special …

This morning when Wally got out of the shower I asked him if he thought that feeding raw meat to Rose had anything to do with her chewing on the sheep.  He said no, Rose is just a playing dog.  If feeding raw meat to a dog made them into killers, Gel would be running down and killing sheep, as would Liath, etc.  Before he came over here, Wally fed kibble to his dogs; even when he took Kessie and I tried to get him to feed her raw, he refused.  Now that he’s been here, he’s always people about the benefits of feeding raw meat to dogs and cats.  Is that due to my brainwashing or that the benefits are clear as day?  I do think some of the reason why Wally wouldn’t feed raw before was because he didn’t have the time to do so.  He had a lot on his plate over there.

Then I told him what Rose’s breeder said and he just shook his head and said I thought she was being nice to you.  Well, I thought she was too, but I should have know better.  The he said that even before he came over here he felt for me for all the harassment I seem to bring on.  He said that it’s as if I am not allowed to express my feelings and views without someone jumping down my throat.  That someone else could say the exact same thing and people would say, yea, right, but me, they burn at the stake.  I wonder why that is about me.

The good thing is that now it doesn’t bother me so much any more.  I don’t know if it’s because Wally is here or I’m just maturing.  Maybe a combination of both.  It’s nice to have a soul mate.

Off to milk …