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Pit Bull with ADHD?

Oh dear.

Yesterday Raoul was back.

In case you missed my description of how it was Centraal Station in my house last week, let’s just say I’ve had so many people coming and going around here that I may put in a turnstile.

Or charge admission. (If only that were an option!)

Raoul is one of the two painter/repairmen who have been working on repairs that sprung (pun-intended) from a water heater leak that cascaded down through our bathroom ceiling.

Today when I asked whether he was here to put back the ceiling (they’d had to cut two large squares out of the bathroom ceiling to determine the source of the leak), he said no.

He was here to take out the ceiling.

Okay, that threw me for a loop. Then I realized he meant that today he would remove the remainder of the carved up ceiling in preparation for replacing the entire bathroom ceiling tomorrow.

Raoul is a very personable man, pleasantly tolerates my mediocre Dutch, and knows to speak English if he has something unpleasant to explain to me.

He also seems to be quite good at his work, and efficient to boot.

The icing on the cake is that he truly enjoys having Oli around, patrolling the hallway and monitoring his every move.

If Oli disappears, Raoul will periodically call out to him. That is music to Oli’s ears: someone else is in the house and wants to spend time with HIM!

Raoul is also quite tolerant of Oli, understands that he has a tendency to get stuck in the small foyer between the swinging door into our hallway and the wooden front door. (The swinging door is too heavy to push open without enough room to get a running start in the tiny foyer.)

Raoul (as well as his work partner Jean Jacques) understands that Oli’s breed (cairn terrier) is a barking breed. Small but fiesty, I like to say.

So imagine when Raoul casually offered the following (and yes, it was in English):

‘Everyone on the block thinks that a very big dog lives here. We ring the doorbell and we think a pit bull will answer.’

Ouch.

Then this:

‘Do you think he has A-D-H-D?’ Raoul asked with a raised eyebrow and inquiring cock of his head.

(This time he used the Dutch pronounciation for the letters signifying attention deficit hyperactive disorder.)

Double ouch.

Shhh, don’t tell Oli. I haven’t the heart to tell him what Raoul said. It would offend him greatly, a real blow to his pride.

Do you ever find yourself having to keep things from YOUR pet? I’ve love to hear!

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