Cajun

He pushes almost all my buttons. Give an inch and he’ll take a mile, and he doesn’t forget that you gave him that inch. He’ll expect you’ll give in again at anytime, he’ll demand it. He is arrogant. He is comical. He is sly. He thinks for himself. He loves to be with me or with Allen. He’s been one of the more difficult dogs I’ve had the pleasure of knowing and after five years with him, I’ve reached a place of deep respect and admiration for him. Allen and I joke that if it comes down to divorce, the one thing we’ll fight over is who gets Cajun (and BJ).


Working with him is no longer a tug-o-war for control but rather a give and take of the control both of us desperately seek. There is a level of deep understanding in that realization because really that give and take is the way the working relationship needs to be for every stock dog.  I understand Cajun better now, and I think this gives him great relief. I highly doubt he understands me better because right from the get go his understanding ran as deep as it needed. Dogs are like that.



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