Warning this post will discuss past trauma experienced by our rescue hound Phoebe. She is gentle and loving and represents pure joy. She also has been learning to love and trust all of our people, but shows signs of previous trauma. Please listen to her story and understand that while she’s awesome, she needs to be given her space sometimes.
Hello Loving Humans,
I Ms. Phoebe the rescue hound would like to express my gratitude, love, snuggles and most importantly wet kisses to you and your families. I never realized how much love could be in one home that first day I jumped in the back of the car with sissy to complete the paperwork. I remember walking into that store with you wondering what was going to happen next after being transported from West Virginia with one of my pups. Crosby you took me shopping around for bones before we went for our first car ride home together.
Let me just say I’m very thankful for every day since that first day. I learned to walk and share a leash with the best elkhound sister ever—Ms. Crosby and go for car rides to stroll all of your favorite parks. You even tried to teach me to not fear dog parks. I’m finding the one in Aspinwall to be my favorite especially since I’ve met Daisy, Jedi and Murphy.
A note to grandma—Stay out of the kitchen. Stop touching things in the kitchen. Learn to just sit and chill with me on a couch. Let me come over to you and give you kisses. Learn to just sit and chill with me on the couch. Stop touching things in the kitchen. Stay out of the kitchen.Ms. Phoebe’s Discovery Manual 2021
Everybody who is around grandma this holiday, please repeat the above mantra until she follows my instructions. I taught mom and dad about my past trauma when they were in the kitchen this week. When they started making Thanksgiving number 1, I became a cold fish toward mom. Every time she came near me, I ran away from her like I did that first week I moved in with her. I was on the defensive every time she approached. Mom was only making the pumpkin cupcakes that night. Mixer, spatula, cupcake papers, sausage, you name it if she touched it, dropped it on the floor or asked me to come near- I stayed out of the kitchen.
The next part of the big reveal continued as the Arrigo stuffing was made and pieces of meat, rice and carrots fell on the floor. Dad would call out “Cleanup in aisle 2!” but I had already gone upstairs and started my slumber at the top of the steps. The humans chalked it up to fatigue due to my big day at the church with Rev. Roberto, however day two with turkey roasting and organ meat they realized I had a kitchen helper problem. I’m not a kitchen helper. I truly was terrified to be a kitchen helper because in my past life I wasn’t allowed to help in the kitchen. In fact I was more than sent out of the kitchen. I was traumatized by my people then. (Likely female).
The lightbulb finally went off. Mom said “I’ve never cooked a turkey without a dog underfoot. I’m not quite sure what’s up with Phoebe?!??!!” Then dad said “AHA! It’s the kitchen and her past owner.
Ok, so now that my humans figured out a trauma trigger for me they jumped into action. Grandma suggested that all the cooking should only be done by men. However mom said something about dad not being a baker because he doesn’t measure anything. Mom and dad decided to Turkey me and love me while they worked on the corn and mashed potatoes. Whit-dogg, Liam and the human hot mama came over to assist with the kitchen training. I smelled Whit-dogg and realized immediately that I could take turkey out of her hand. Turkey neck, turkey heart, turkey liver and white meat all went yummy in my tummy. Good thing dad didn’t tell her what she was treating me with, the general description of turkey worked. Here I thought Rev. Roberto was good with all his church cookies, but Whit’s turkey was really down on the farm good.
I’m lucky that my humans can read me and are willing to work with me. I’m grateful for all the days they take baby steps with me. I now understand how important that morning belly rub routine is for my humans and know that they are grateful for my mom belly that I let them rub. I also enjoy the face wash service I provide. They call it kisses but I’m really acknowledging that they are my pack. I give thanks for getting out in nature every morning for our walks.
This Thanksgiving I am thankful for every day I had with Ms. Crosby. I now realize that she lived every day for the day.
Happy Thanksgiving y’all! With love and Gratitude.