So yeah. It's just me and Fredo for the next 8-10 years. It wasn't either of our first choices, but here we are. I always figured he would outlive the good dog, just because, well, he's Fredo and being a monumental pain in the ass is what Fredos do. But I didn't think it would be for this much longer.
In the old order, his sister was my dog, and Fredo was hers. Indeed, I got Fredo just because she was lonely. Now she's gone, and with her, the reason Fredo and I even know one another. It's sort of like I married a woman who already had a kid, and then the woman died on the honeymoon, and I'm looking at the kid and thinking, "Wait. What just happened?"
In contrast with his sister's cerebral calm, he turned out to be a sweet, goofy imbecile. Most people preferred him. Our interactions were limited to the occasional game of chase or ear-scritch. If I wanted Fredo to come, all I had to do was call his sister. Because of this, he is nearly feral in his training.
We are now forced to bond. He is freaked out. He trembles at my attempts to comfort him, which at first I attributed to the death of his sister. Now, though, I wonder how much of his freak-out is because I'm actually paying attention to him.
"Again with the cuddling and soothing voice? Is something wrong? AM I DYING? IS IT CANCER?! AIDS? IT'S AIDS, ISN'T IT?!" his eyes plead.
Regardless, it's time to get to work and turn him into a reasonable facsimile of a dog. Phase 1: teach him that words have meanings. Phase 2: Teach him what those meanings are. I think I'll start with the word "Fredo." It might be useful if he responded to it.