From what I understand, this week is Service Dog’s Week. Well, let me write about my service dog’s
week so far.
Sunday, Vivi did great going to church and great following
Brittany into lunch. Then we were
leaving. You know the drill, tables on
both sides of an aisle and we were walking down the middle. Just as we got to a crowded table with the
waitress standing with her tablet poised in hand, Vivi spotted something that
looked tasty on the floor. Down went her
pretty little white head and snap went her leash to the accompaniment of my
louder than I meant to say, “NO!” I
could feel the waitress and everybody looking at us. Vivi stopped following Brittany and walked
slowly, dejected out of the restaurant.
I felt really bad and Vivi did all she knew to do to make me feel even
worse. Still she licked my face as I
removed her harness once we were home, and was ready for another outing by
Sunday evening.
Monday, after Vivi had done a great job at the gym, I
decided to go walking at 1 PM, thinking this was a good time. Also, I made the decision not to walk our
usual route but to take one we had walked about four months ago. In the winter when she came to live with me,
we trained about this time of day and the streets were empty. Our adventure on Monday began by a motor bike
rider out having a joy ride in the middle of the day. He was riding through yards and cutting
across streets and sidewalks. I could
tell that Vivi was not comfortable when he rode up behind us on the street. Then people were in their driveways with
motors running. Were they going to back
out? Two people yelled for us to go
ahead and the last time we stood quite a while then made a mad dash for the
next drive.
Finally we were at a turn going toward Capital Boulevard,
when a little car with a huge truck horn passed right beside us and blew that
horn for all the noise it could produce.
People in the car laughed almost as loud as the music playing. Vivi did not jump; I did. The car got held up at the stoplight and we
were headed that way. I was praying it
would be gone before we got there, as I was trying to think of something mean
enough to say. It was gone by the time I
got to the corner but guess what? There
sat a huge truck right in the middle of the sidewalk. I am not kidding. I could not go around it on the left side
because it was almost against the post and bushes. The right side was too close to the street to
pass except to go in the traffic. Should
I turn around and go all the way back home?
Vivi wanted to lead me around the traffic side of the truck but I was
not having it. Capital Blvd traffic is
busier than I can write about, but believe me, it was noisy and louder than
that truck horn. Finally I screamed as
loud as possible “Is there anybody here?”
Believe it or not, someone was
and the very nice gentleman came to get me.
He must have had on a uniform as he promised that he would not let
anybody hit us. He told me they were
working on the sidewalk. Had the traffic
not been so loud I may have told him about some more sidewalks they could work
on. Instead, I thanked him as I very
much appreciated his help. As we started
on our way he complemented Vivi for knowing there was no way to go around the
truck except walk close to the curb in Capital Blvd traffic. I hope Vivi enjoyed that walk because for me
a Valium would have been nice once getting home.
Tuesday, we both enjoyed a perfect two-mile morning walk as
part of our usual route, before being treated to lunch by a friend. I purposely threw a portion of biscuit in
front of Vivi on our way out; she didn’t lunge for it. I don’t know if she had grasped the concept,
or if perhaps a biscuit was just not worth the trouble.
Wednesday, I decided to take her on a mini walk before the
gym. Yes, there was another car backing
out of the driveway but also a friendly yell to go ahead. However, loud garbage trucks or really any
loud trucks can distract me, so after walking over two blocks a truck just
managed to hit my last nerve. Vivi wouldn’t jump up on the curb as fast as I
thought she should, causing me to step on her foot. She yelled and I yelled back. Actually she did not need to jump on the
curb, I just thought maybe I did. That
time I really did turn around and head back home, where I kissed the top of
Vivi’s foot and she washed my face with licks before going to Weight Watchers
and the gym.
Thursday, Vivi went on a nice early morning two-mile walk,
out to lunch with two of my grandchildren and me at Olive Garden, to the Family
Dollar Store, and to Goodberry’s ice cream.
Now she is having a play date with her very best friend,
Luna.
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According to one of my earlier trainers, a two-year-old dog
is entering his or her teens. I do not
know about statistics, but I will admit that both of my earlier guide dogs
settled into a calmer place approaching age three. Vivi is about half-way between two and three,
and is far beyond average. By the time
she is three I am sure there will be no more food lunging, curb jumping, or
yelling from a nervous owner.
Truly the value of a service dog like Vivi, Mego before her,
and Holly is priceless. I am absolutely
positive I must have the best three dogs Southeastern Guide dogs ever to let
leave their school. What a gift! I am going to try to be as good of a service
dog owner as they are service dogs.
Sometimes I forget they are service dogs, because to me they are my own
true loves.
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