But then all of a sudden, the calls became less, and then they stopped. No return phone calls. I called World’s Greatest Worker to see if she could find out what was going on, and nothing. She had been walking dogs, but she hadn’t been to his place. I asked her to go over there to see what was going on. What she found? Disturbing.
East Coast Millan was in love with my dog, no doubt, but he was taking things too far. He had her on a leash attached to his belt, and she followed him everywhere all day. He told World’s Greatest Worker it was for trust. We both thought it seemed fishy. World’s Greatest Worker took my dog for a walk with East Coast Millan, and she was seemingly cured. No barking. Nothing. But he said he needed to keep working with her, and then went back to his place and told her he was going to take a nap with my dog.
I’d never seen Cesar Millan sleep with any of the dogs on his show. East Coast Millan finally called me back and left a message saying things were going well, but it’d take a little longer. But I still had this nagging voice inside me saying, “What the hell is this guy doing with my dog?” Why did he need her for a few more days?
Crazy busy with work, it actually helped that he had my dog, but I wanted her back sooner than later. World’s Greatest Worker went by his place. He wasn’t there and neither was my dog. When she inquired where the barkiest dog in Manhattan was, they told her that East Coast Millan had taken her to his house upstate! Dognapping? I furiously started calling. And calling. And calling. I left message after message, but when I came back from my meeting there was still no answer.
I called my GBF and my GBF’s GBF (My Gay Best Friend’s Gay Best Friend) and told them I needed their help. We were going to steal back my dog. Luckily, World’s Greatest Worker was on the inside. She got the address up in Westchester of where East Coast Millan was staying and GBF and GBF’s GBF and I rented a car and took a ride. We figured we’d have to case the joint, and then get my dog. We all wore black, but since we live in NY, that’s all we really own. We went once it was dark.
My GBF thought we should just go up there and tell him that we were taking my dog. But my GBF’s GBF didn't agree. He thought this place up in Westchester might have tons of dogs. We might have to call the cops, animal control, whoknew what we were getting ourselves into? GBF’s GBF thought I should stay in the car, while they knocked on the door, pretending to be lost and then storm the place. I didn’t know what to do. I just wanted my dog back and couldn’t believe the steps I had taken to try to get a quiet dog. I cursed myself. I cursed East Coast Millan. This never would’ve happened with Cesar!
TO BE CONTINUED...