The baby beasts have torn apart a couch, cracked a mirror and shredded our bed sheets. Our last set of litter mates ate through the wall-to-wall carpeting, and the puppy before them leaped through a closed double-paned window, so I'd say we're making progress. But clearly, I need to be retrained.
"Your puppies are bored," said Ilga Cimbulis, who describes herself as an animal communicator.
I hadn't realized that the D's in ADHD really stood for dog.
My wife and kids constantly remind me that I can't read minds. But Cimbulis can. She says she can communicate telepathically with animals, says the animals send her pictures of things they see, hear, smell and sense. She says her best teacher might have been a horse she had, named Julaan. That's horse sense.
OK, I'm a sucker for sad, brown eyes and floppy ears, but I'm as skeptical as the next guy whose dogs have tried to eat their way through a laundry room door. I've heard about animal experts such as Cimbulis and Patti Anderson, who calm dogs with their touch and reduce the stress between dog and owner.
Our 10-month-old puppies are housebroken. The mail carrier's still willing to deliver to our house. How much more help do I need? Oh, did I mention that they recently destroyed a beloved Grateful Dead CD? Trouble ahead, trouble behind.
Paws to refresh
It was time to contact Cimbulis and Anderson, who will be available to counsel dogs who still have hope for their masters on Sunday, from 4:30 to 7 p.m., at Auntie Ruth's Furry Friends in Minnetonka. Cimbulis and Anderson return to Auntie Ruth's, a kennel that has a convalescence unit in addition to offering day care, on April 11.