I love that weird dog, but years of trying to alter her behavior have resulted in nothing more than waving the white flag of surrender. I deemed her untrainable. A lost cause.
Susan disagreed. Insisted that during her time at my house, she would turn Roo around.
Celeste and I thought Susan's confidence was adorable. We knew Roo. Knew how frustrating and infuriating that dog could be.
So now we're back to me at the Chicago airport. I'd abandoned my quest for quiet and moved into the crowded United Airlines waiting area. My cellphone rings. It's Celeste, calling immediately upon arriving home after being gone for most of a week.
"It smells amazing in here," Celeste says.
She's walking around the house as she talks. Susan had already left, so the place is empty. My girl -- unaccustomed to a house that smells good -- is searching for the source. Finds it in the kitchen.
"Whoa!" She says. "You should see the size of this crock pot."
The lid clunks down on the counter. With much lip smacking, Celeste is describing the giant slab of meat that Susan had left cooking for us. She stops chattering briefly to greet the dogs. Says hi to Murry. Hi to Chewie.
But no Roo.
"Wait a minute," I say. "You mean to say you got home and there's a giant crock pot on the counter with a huge slab of meat in it and one of the dogs is missing?"
Which is how I learned people were eavesdropping on my conversation.
Karin Fuller can be reached via email at karinful...@gmail.com. O'And Roo can be found at Susan's house, where she continues her rehabilitation.