Many of you know I have a CCI Dog, Havan who is especially bred, raised and trained not to show any aggression. A snicker over a bowl of food would be considered just cause to boot her out of advanced or even early training. So, when she reacted vocally and physically to a strange woman I took her at her warning. Sort of…
The woman was young, college aged, slim, a bit tanned, she wore layers of clothing, but unlike our unfortunate homeless people, her clothes were clean. She had a blue print backpack and her short hair was done up in pigtails.
The woman did not have a bike or a car, she waited too long at the camper, partly hidden by the plum bush. Then, she headed across our yard and up to our front porch. At that point, Havan became very involved. CCI would have snatched her up and taken her far away at that point. Okay, maybe they wouldn’t have actually taken her, but they would have thumped me on the noggin for not issuing an immediate correction.
The woman had a heavy blue printed backpack. She wore an ID on a strap around her neck. She also had a clipboard and notes in one hand.
With the screen door between us, Shaman and Jeepers behind me, the woman launched into an apology for her accent. From what I made out, she said she was a transfer student from another country. Then she apologized for something else.
She tried to open the screen door to shake hands and began inviting herself into the house. The dog actually made a move at the woman and I pulled the door back closed.
By now, my teenaged son joined us to see why Havan had uncharacteristically gone off.
The woman began pushing a clipboard at me, pointing to the names of people she had sold books to. I didn’t know any of them, but then, we don’t have neighbors out here. Another story altogether.
I began saying no. No.
She rambled. At some point she leaned in with her ID and made me look. Sans Contacts, I couldn’t read it.
I said no.
Then she said, in a not so accented voice. “Oh, then you haven’t heard of me.”
No some more.
She plunks her backpack down and begins rooting around inside. I could see right inside where she had hardcover, oversized children’s books and one rather bulky algebra text.
I kept saying no.
Finally, the woman asked about who lived in the trailers, did they have kids?
At this point, I was rather flustered. My little black heart beat in my chest and I denied knowing anything about the kid status of my neighbors. Let her knock on all of those empty doors. Let her sell books to ghosts. But, most of all, don’t let her think we have anything here she needs to come back for.
Of course, Jeepers, being a very social three year old wanted to see her off, tell her goodbye, get a fist bump, ting and say Ta Ta For Now.
I told this story to my Darling Husband who said he had read police reports about an aggressive salesperson.
Well, if you haven’t heard of her, she is out there and she is indeed aggressive but didn’t manage to make a sale.
Thank you Havan for breaking your training or this woman would have been inside of my terribly unkempt house. She might even have killed us. How she would manage to take us all out is another story altogether. I’m fairly sure Jeepers would have remained his usual social self right up to the end of us.
To the trainers at CCI, I’ll do some set ups and give her the proper corrections.
To the rest of you, beware the aggressive young woman with the blue print back pack.