Dogs | Guide dog life | Birthdays

What Dogs Want To Do On Their Birthdays

Cooper turns 8 this month — and he has a moment of self-reflection

Cooper: The chart at the Vet’s office says at 8 years old, I’m middle-aged, but honestly, I don’t feel a day over 6.

On their birthdays, middle-aged dogs get to do what they want to do.

Says who? Me, I’m saying it.

On my birthday, January 28th, this is what I’m hoping to do

After my 5:00 dog food with a side of beef wrapped in bacon, I’d like to put my feet up, crack open a chilled bottle of non-alcoholic water, and watch back-to-back episodes of my favorite shows with dogs in them.

For example Frasier, I like his dog, Eddie. He races across the apartment at high speed, barely slowing down for corners. I do not have that kind of agility!

What I mean is, if you’re standing idly in the room when I’m running through, the worst that could happen is, I’d slide into the backs of your knees and you’ll land somewhere nearby, hopefully somewhere soft. That’s all.

But, back to how I’d like to spend my birthday.

I’ll probably see my dog pal Duo, his real name is Solo, but I’ve changed Solo’s name on the off chance he reads my stuff on Pat’s Medium. He’s fairly bright as well.

Anyway, Duo wears me out with his non-stop playing. I’m pretty much exhausted after only a few minutes of his madness.

I may get to see my beautiful beau, Italy, who’s also a guide dog, but she’s more of a free spirit whereas I follow instructions.

For example, getting to our destinations.

I know the route and follow it to a tee. Unless of course, Pat is daydreaming.

Then I’ll take us through the park and past the coffee shop that has snack food and breakfast sandwiches. Once in a while she gets me a breakfast sandwich, but don’t get me wrong, I always get us to work on time.

In comparison to my dog friends, I’m not speedy or overly playful and I’m not free-spirited, but here’s what I am:

I’m Bright

I may or may not have goofed around in school, but when it came to guide-dog classes, I put my nose to the grindstone, sat next to the books, and I did NOT eat my homework.

I’m Good

Word on the street, and around the office, is that I’m a very good boy.

A descendant of the majestic wolf

If you’ve read my stories and true confessions, you already know that I’m 90-solid pounds of muscle, strength, and virility, so I don’t have to say it once more.

I’m a loyal listener

My lady Patricia tells me what she thinks about most things, and I’m always amazed at how much she knows about people’s motives and occupations.

For example, one of our bus drivers is an Indy racer in his spare time, and he graces our humble transit system with his esteemed presence on his days off from the track. Lucky us, right?

And the Crossing Guard, Karen, who moonlights as a stripper at the …. what? Ok, no problem.

Pat says I should wrap it up, we don’t want to risk writing a 12-minute dissertation on our local citizens.

P.S. I’m grateful to each of you, my Medium friends, for following our stories. Thank you today and always.

I’d invite you for cake but you probably don’t want to travel to the freezing cold north, plus I’d have to share.