The thing is, I think Rachmaninoff has a screw loose somewhere. Main Lady took him to the veterinarian's office this morning for his annual check up, and he got all the dogs in the waiting room stirred up by trying to play, then he crapped on the rug and finished up by trying to bite the vet, Doctor Tryharder. He was perfectly okay with the receptionist behind the barricade and he seemed okay with the technicians who got his blood sample, but as soon as Doctor Tryharder came within range it was bite now, growl later. Main Lady and the technician put a muzzle on him which Doctor Tryharder had a childlike faith in, and he damned near nailed her again. If it wasn't for the vet's quick reactions Rachmaninoff would have scored. They had to get a different muzzle for him which he did not like in the slightest. The only positive things that came out of this visit occurred when the vet asked for a stool sample and Main Lady gave her a nice fresh one, and again when the results of all the tests came back okay, proving that Main Lady has a disgustingly healthy dog.
I can't find a rhyme or reason to his people preferences. Main Lady boards him at Karnik Pet Lodge and they all think he's wonderful. He likes all the handlers at Karnik no matter their sex, size, race, religious persuasion, sexual orientation or immigration status. He hates Main Lady's neighbors Machine Shop Sam and his Sam's wife Ethel, both of whom have tried and failed to make friends with him on numerous occasions. He loves Flopsy, Mopsy and Cottontail. He also loves Centenarian. He tolerates Que Bee One, but he doesn't like Ding Bat at all. I'll give him a pass on Ding Bat - trust me on this one. You see, Ding Bat loves cats, and I don't just mean that she likes them in the same way I like my cat Dante. I mean that she's nuts about cats. Cat pictures, cat jewelry, cat clothing, cat furniture, cat wallpaper, cat clocks - you name it. All her greeting cards have the feline theme to them. One time when she was looking for a job I, without thinking, suggested she try a cat house. Main Lady wouldn't speak to me for about three hours, then I discovered I was getting the silent treatment. Well, how was I to know? It isn't like this kind of thing is announced.
Anyway, I haven't found a good dog whisperer anywhere in the Toledo, Ohio area, but even without a dog whisperer Excellent Rachmaninoff is getting better. I was walking him the other day and he saw a nice pride of human kids and he didn't try to run the slowest one down and savage it. That's real progress.