Jun 17, 2012 18:45
“Your dog is wagging his tail.”
“Your dog is looking out the window.”
“Your dog is lying on the floor so peacefully.”
“Your dog just stopped at the top of the stairs.”
“Your dog has such a beautiful solid black coat.”
“Your dog is pooping.”
After seventeen years working with a guide dog I know that people will say stupid things about my dog. Some of it will be obvious to me, just dumb commentary they feel they need to comment on everything. Some of it will be criticisms about how my dog behaves, as if he should be a machine. Some will be unwanted advice.
“Your dog needs his nails trimmed,” with no offer to trim them.
“You should feed your dog Alpo, that is what I feed my dog.”
“Your dog smells like a wet dog.” after my just bathed dog comes inside from a rain storm.
“Your dog isn’t very well behaved.” after they have just given him a command which he disobeyed because he’s not obligated to listen to them.
“You should let your dog greet other dogs while he’s out working. It’s good for him.”
The world is full of people, and many of them have dogs. They think they know better than you do, and think you need the help as a poor blind person. Sometimes they think that they will tell you about their dog buddy and how he died fifteen years ago, because it is something that can bring you closer together. Do you know how sick I am of dead dog stories while I’m trying to enjoy a dinner out with friends?
Everyone wants to pet your dog. While you’re crossing the street, shopping in the grocery store, boarding a bus, listening to an orchestra play, in line for a stall in the ladies room. It doesn’t matter where you are or what you are doing, someone wants to pet the dog.
“I can’t resist, he’s just so cute.”
“My daughter wants to pet your dog,” as said screaming child is carried forth to torture the dog.
“It looks just so much like my cousins, uncles, best friend’s boss’s dog Buddy, Billy, Bear or Jane.”
They want to know what breed of dog it is, as if when you tell them they will have a light bulb go off in their head that will do something wonderful. When you tell them it’s a Labrador, which is more than obvious by the dog’s appearance they say things like:
“Those are such good dogs, but yours is calmer than my neighbor’s aunt’s house cleaner’s sister’s dog Joe, Bob, Rainbow or Bailey.”
“I had a lab once. He died, after swallowing a rock, of cancer, after being hit by a car, or after climbing a mountain taller than the Rockies to save a turtle from a fire.”
“Don’t labs love water? I bet he loves to swim.” as if swimming is first on my working dog’s agenda. Let’s just pencil that in to the schedule.
They always want to know if the dog will bite. He does have teeth, but does he look like he is about to attack? Usually he is quite calm.
“Does he sleep with you?”
“Is he your best friend?”
“He must be your hero.”
“It’s so great they can train blind dogs.”
Who said my dog was blind? I sure as hell hope he isn’t, or I’m in trouble. Last time I checked my best friend was a human, but my dog is a great companion. It’s rude to ask who I’ve been sleeping with, so I wonder about people’s manners. Heroes come in all forms, and whether my dog is one might depend if he threw up on the carpet that day or whether he’s licking his butt at the time the question is being asked.
Yes, I’m not surprised by anything anyone asks anymore. It’s all part of a day out with my dog. I have Theo, Ricky, and Fargo, to thank for being my side kicks in watching the show of entertainment the public can provide.
theo,
season eight,
guide dogs,
dogs,
fargo,
lj idol,
ricky