Saturday, July 14, 2007


Her name was: Pepper.

I am thinking of her, because of a post Kerredelune made about her doggie. Her furfriend doesn't like thunderstorms. I know how she feels. I do not care for them either. But, that is another story.
My little furface seemed to have noise issues too. Puzzled me for long time as to the reason why. Because her sensitivity to loud noise was not consistent. We played music, and had the TV on a lot.
It could be we were living too quietly. Humm. But, then all of a sudden she would cower on an unexpected loud noise. Firecrackers, a loud car. Or if I dropped something, Pepper would go paralyzed and flop on her stomach all splayed out. I could see it was like 'shell shock'. Which is what PTS used to be called. I would go and pick her up and try to reassure and comfort her. I see that she was frightened, But, at first, I couldn't think what to do. She would just shiver and shiver.
By just trying different noise makers. I discovered just stirring something in a metal kettle on the stove would bring on shivers and fear. Now this was not something she learned at our house. My Hb. and I do not ever fight. That word is not in our world. We only talk, if necessary. But, we just were always considerate of each other. We lived quietly. I am very much a "smoother'. I do not like chaos. Luckily Hb. is an organizer. And he picks up and washes his own socks. Occasional semi-loud music was about it.
So, I Crouched down. opened the doors of the cookware shelves, and called Pepper to me. No, this was not mean. I picked up a lid and just sort of lightly clanged it about. Yes, she wanted to run away. But I made her stay and I made it clear to her, it was a game. You just play with this stuff and bark at it, chase it. So, rattling the cookware in the cupboard became a fun thing. The therapy would last quite awhile. Sometimes it could be months before she had trouble again.
There used be a musician named Denny Martin. I found that I could play those records fairly loud. Then we would run up and down the hallway and dance around the living room. That was therapy too. Pepper liked it though. Because it was playtime.
Poor baby. It wasn't until she had died at 10yrs.old from uterine cancer. That my Mother told me something that had happened to Pepper. When they were caring for her, because Hb. and I had taken a long trip..
I was just aghast! And it gave me such despair. My little black diamond, my gem, my tiny sweetheart.
I was so anguished, a betrayal of trust.

This is a picture of her favorite passtime during the warm days. Although, she didn't care much for baths. So funny.

1 comment:

pepektheassassin said...

Pepper looks just like my little dog, who is also terrified of thunder and fireworks.