So the very nice lady who lives down the next block and who regularly walks her greyhound by our house drives by today; it's the first time our paths have crossed in a couple of months. She adopted Jessie several years ago as a rescue dog. Jessie used to be very high-strung and easily spooked when we first met, especially towards men; her owner thinks the previous owner was probably a man who brutalized her. Jessie has warmed up to me; the big breakthrough was one day when she was quivering nervously in front of me and I threw myself on the lawn and rolled on my back, exposing my stomach and throat to her - the classic, "I'm not a threat" doggie submission posture. We're good friends now.
So she drives by today, but where's Jessie?
"Oh, poor Jessie, she's having back problems. The vet can't seem to find anything, she may have a slipped disc or a pinched nerve, but they can't tell, so I'm taking her in for acupuncture."
Urgh...
She was in the car, I was standing there in the street. This obviously wasn't the place for a long explanation of why acupuncture has never been proven to cure anything, that at best it's a placebo, but that placebos don't work on animals because for a placebo to work, you have to understand what it's supposed to do and unless she's telepathic or has that abominable Pet Psychic woman communing with her, all poor Jessie is going to know is that some strange man is sticking needles in her.
And I'm going to have to throw myself on my back and expose my stomach and throat to her all over again before she trusts men again.
So I made some sympathetic noises about "poor Jessie," and a car came up the street and we had to part company.

So she drives by today, but where's Jessie?
"Oh, poor Jessie, she's having back problems. The vet can't seem to find anything, she may have a slipped disc or a pinched nerve, but they can't tell, so I'm taking her in for acupuncture."
Urgh...
She was in the car, I was standing there in the street. This obviously wasn't the place for a long explanation of why acupuncture has never been proven to cure anything, that at best it's a placebo, but that placebos don't work on animals because for a placebo to work, you have to understand what it's supposed to do and unless she's telepathic or has that abominable Pet Psychic woman communing with her, all poor Jessie is going to know is that some strange man is sticking needles in her.
And I'm going to have to throw myself on my back and expose my stomach and throat to her all over again before she trusts men again.
So I made some sympathetic noises about "poor Jessie," and a car came up the street and we had to part company.
