10. Hire a Pet Psychic

Those of you who've met my K-9 companion, Ralgh, know he's very special.  He's an anxious rescue who always sleeps with one eye open and is afraid of flashing lights, cameras, sirens, skateboarders, compact discs, the vet, fireworks, people, children, anything that beeps, the oven, and (of course) the vacuum cleaner.  He's undeniably a giant pain in the ass, a truly difficult dog, but dang if I don't love the crap out of him.  He's my sweet little boy.  We understand each other and keep each other safe.

Scared of the camera!

On day 14 we had an appointment with a pet psychic named Patricia.  I could tell in the conversations leading up to our appointment that something was off.  She needed to be constantly reminded of who I was and what I wanted.  She insisted on a telephone reading because she wanted to know as little about Ralgh as possible, including what he looked like.

At 11:00, our scheduled appointment time, I went to a coffee shop and rang Patricia.  No answer.  Tried her again at 11:05.  She finally called me back at 11:08, saying she was embarrassed to admit it, but she was stuck on the toilet when I had called.  Professional!  Next, she said, "So, we're going to talk to George today!" "Um, no, his name is Ralgh," I corrected.  This was not going well. "Oh! Oh, Ralgh!  There he is!  I see him now.  Oh, he's a sweet boy.  He's medium sized, and he's brownish? He's floppy! He has floppy ears."

Not so much floppy.  I'd more lean toward describing him as tense...

I really wanted her to give me something I could believe in here.  C'mon, Patricia (or should I call you Pamela?  Close enough, right?), I want the smoke and mirrors, the velvet curtain, the crystal ball!  I want to see you get all possessed with Ralgh's spirit and start speaking in tongues.  Anything!  Just give me something...

I want the crystal ball, dammit!

 
The conversation continued to enlighten me at every turn.  I found out that Ralgh likes his food, he sleeps a lot, he loves watching TV (FAIL, Patricia!  I don't have a TV!), and one of his favorite things to do is sleep in my bed (WIN, Patricia!  You got that one right!).  The gravy on the metaphorical dog food?  She said that Ralgh wanted her to tell me that he saw a squirrel.  WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THINGS HOLY?!?  There's a squirrel in my house?!  I swear, if I go home and there's a squirrel in my house I don't know what I'm going to do!  How do you catch a squirrel?  My best guess is with nuts and a shoebox, but that could be pretty messy.  Oh, Patricia, thank you, THANK YOU for the warning.

But I got home and there was no squirrel, which leads me to believe that Ralgh was lying to Patricia.  I'm going to have to have a chat with the little guy about that.