GUIDE DOG LIFE

Dear Diary, I’m Like a Warm Pillow. Yours truly, Cooper

Her foot is finally mended and that means longer walks!

Dear Diary,

The morning Pat fractured her foot started out like every other ordinary morning. Until…

I sensed something was wrong. We were on a normal walk, normal means I was sniffing around for a spot to take a leak.

I usually try to find a spot where an unemployed dog has gone, then I camouflage over the spot, and voila! The next dog that comes along will know I own it.

So we were walking along and I hear, ‘Oh shoot!’ and a bit more colorful wording.

Then Pat described, in detail, the sidewalk paving crews and our town’s park landscapers. I had no idea she knew so much about these people and their jobs.

Anyway, I turned around and we were eye-to-eye. Pat was sitting uncomfortably on the grass while I’m thinking, this is new! Then she said, look at us Cooper, we’re eye-to-eye, this is new!

I’m pretty sure she tried to take a smoother tumble across the drainage hole, my clue was when she said, that was not graceful.

We found a bench nearby so she could sit and rest her foot.

Things didn’t look good as far as my leisurely walk was going.

At home, Mr. Dale recommended we go to the hospital and get that foot looked at, it seemed to be fatter than usual. But Pat complained how there was no way she was ruining a perfectly good day waiting for an x-ray that would confirm what she already knew.

She had more compliments about our speedy and efficient healthcare system, and was muttering them while we walked her to the car.

Here’s where things started getting slow, and I got why she said we’d waste a perfectly good day.

At the desk, they asked Pat to explain what happened and then the lady told Mr. Dale about her dogs and how they aren’t calm, which means she can’t take them into buildings. She didn’t seem to care about the foot.

I thought your dogs would be calm if they had jobs, they’re probably bored, but no one asked me so I just sat quietly. The lady was still talking about dogs.

After a wait, someone else told us to follow them to X-Ray. I looked at Pat and her foot was quite fat, and she had tears rolling down her face.

This was serious, I don’t often see tears on her face at least not in public. The lady was way ahead of us but when she eventually noticed we were lagging, she grabbed a wheelchair for Pat and her fat foot. Things started looking up — finally, we were getting somewhere.

After another wait, and a nurse asking to take my picture for her daughter who has never seen a service dog, they were ready to look at the foot.

X-Ray is a suspicious place in my opinion, here’s why.

All of us including the nurse, had to stand behind glass for safety but they left Pat laying there.

The nurse kept going back to twist her foot while saying things like, this is gonna hurt, then going ahead and twisting it anyway. I’ll never understand humans.

Pat was holding back from saying colorful words, I just know it.

Then we went back to waiting and when the doctor came in, he asked questions about guide dogs. He even asked Pat if I… the dog… knew that she was in pain.

My only thought was, you’d have to be in a coma not to know that, and I’m quite awake.

Eventually, they told her she fractured a bone and would have to wear a boot.

I thought of two things:

First, Pat was right, they confirmed what she already knew, and if Mr. Dale listened, we wouldn’t have ruined a perfectly good day.

Second, if we had stayed home, no one would have mentioned wearing one boot, one giant boot that looks exactly like a ski boot.

I did not think a leisurely walk wearing one big boot would be comfortable at all. Maybe both boots, but this advice just sounded weird.

When we got home, she promised me that after she was done with the boot we’d get back to our leisurely walks.

She’s been asking my dog pal Solo to come over so I’ll get exercise but I can only stand Solo for 10 minutes. He’s got too much energy.

Well Dear Diary, at last! She stuck the boot into a closet and yesterday we took a short walk.

I’m extra nice to Pat, I let her rest her fractured foot on my back and side, and she says I’m like a warm pillow. I get extra treats for this — it’s not necessary but I’m a Lab and we don’t question reasons for treats.

Now I follow her everywhere. I do this anyway, but I’m making totally sure she doesn’t dive into or across anything. It’s all in a service dog’s day at work and I love her just that much.

Yours truly, Cooper

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