Sisters Want Angelina To Lose Some Habits

Q. What do you call a dog that lives in a monastery?

A. A holy rover.

Sorry. That terrible pun came to mind after watching four habit-wearing nuns struggle in vain to control their hyperactive golden retriever named Angelina.

This surreal scene took place during a noon class at Diamonds in the Ruff - a dog-training boutique headquartered in a vintage home in north Spokane.

I was invited to attend the final session of a four-week course for behaviorally impaired bowsers. It was actually more of a canine encounter session.

There is no old-fashioned newspaper-smacking at Diamonds in the Ruff. Humans sit in a circle and try to understand why, for example, Snoopy keeps trying to have a romantic interlude with the sofa leg.

At one point during class, the four-legged students were encouraged to express their feelings toward a large cardboard stand-up of Star Trek’s Jean Luc Picard. From all the angry barking it was obvious these mutts were “Star Wars” fans.

“Great job, Harley!” encouraged class instructor Diane Baker to one of the most vocal growlers.

Harley’s owner, Rebecca Mack, says she enrolled her dog because of his general hostility toward men. Hmm. Certain leaders of the National Organization for Women may want to look into this.

Like Harley, the shaggy pupils are here to better themselves: Norm, a sheep dog slightly smaller than a woolly mammoth, has an attention deficit disorder; Mike the German shepherd is withdrawn and painfully shy.

Angelina acts more like a fallen angel. Say “sit” and she usually flops on her back and joyfully imitates the wriggling motion of a dying tuna.

“Her halo is occasionally tilted by her horns,” observes Sister Marcia Kay LaCour, one of the good-natured sisters.

The nuns belong to the Poor Clare Sisters, a Roman Catholic order. They adopted Angie last fall to liven up their monastery on North Hawthorne where nine sisters live. The good nuns discovered they need more grace to cope with such an exuberant pup.

Unable to travel to Rome for a papal dispensation, four of the sisters enrolled Angie in the Headstart class at Diamonds in the Ruff. Progress has been at a somewhat glacial pace.

During a recent backyard session, Angie suddenly sprinted away. Which wouldn’t have been so inappropriate were it not for a very startled Sister Rita Louise McLean, who was hanging onto the dog’s leash at the time.

“She was the flying nun,” agrees LaCour, her thick brown habit shaking with humor. “Sister Rita Louise was skating all over the yard. It’s like she was on skis.”

Oh, what unholy indignities we foolish mortals suffer for our pets.

I’m still emotionally damaged from the day I took my cockapoo, Elvis, to run a celebrity race at the now-defunct greyhound track in Post Falls.

I proudly walked Elvis through the front door, whereupon the evil beast abruptly squatted and sloooowly did his vile business on the carpet.

It’s true. Time can stand still.

I should have stuck the miserable hound dog on the next Greyhound to Graceland.

Carol Byrnes, who runs Diamonds in the Ruff with her husband, Dana, believes there are no doggy delinquents. With patience and understanding, she says, all dogs can become positive members of society.

That’s easy for her to say. She owns Eddie, an amazing whippet that can do just about everything from finding your lost car keys to rebuilding your carburetor.

Eddie recently starred in a TV commercial for a pet store. This is not the sort of uncouth dog that, like Elvis, would leave a Nixon on the rug.

I’ll believe in this sensitivity training if and when Angie reforms. It may take some help from on high.

“We’re praying to the good angels that Angie starts acting like a perfect little angel,” says a cheerful Sister Jane Wade.

That’s right, Sister, there is power in prayer. Just make sure to let go of the leash.

, DataTimes ILLUSTRATION: Color photo