Posts Tagged: senior service dog

I’m Really Not a Service Dog

Service dog? Not me! I’m a privileged pet.

I lay around on everything and sleep most of the day. I get two wonderful meals a day and have a fenced backyard all to myself to play in.

I also have my own soft kennel that zips up for privacy and all the toys and chew bones I want. After all, I will be nine years old this month and that’s a lot of years for a dog.

So, in my mind I think I’m a pet, but then I catch a scent of something, and I realize, I’m a dog with a purpose. I smell Christy’s blood sugar dropping and get right to work alerting her.

Working is a privilege for me, and I love having a job. It means I am with Christy twenty-four hours a day wherever she goes.

But Mom is planning for my future. She’s worried about my retirement one day when I will no longer be able to go with her in public and another dog will take my place. That’s why she got the annoying puppy to be my companion when I have to stay home one day so I won’t be lonely.

My young furry friend, Rocky, steals my chew bones and has ripped up all my stuffed toys.

Mom is trying to teach him basic manners, but he’s strong-willed.

So, I was just fooling you. After all, it is April 1st. Even though secretly inside I want to be a normal pet, I truly am a service dog who has a great handler thinking ahead for all our good.

Mom hopes I have a lot of years left in me to keep on working and so do I.

It’s My Birthday!

As a diabetic alert dog, time is something I don’t understand. But apparently, I have walked through another human year and turn eight years old.

I love birthdays.

I know the sound of the song well. In fact, when I am in the company of someone who is having a birthday and the song is sung, my ears perk up.

I look around for the treats I am about to eat, but only get a regular kibble from Mom. Oh, well. I’m never disappointed when I get something from the treat bag.

Everyone says I’m getting old because I have some grey whiskers showing up on my chin. But most people think my brindle coloring is me turning grey.

Mom politely tells people it’s a rare genetic defect that gives me the look of muddy or grey paws and face.

Mom has a genetic defect too. But she quickly tells them it’s to her benefit since I’m extremely handsome because of it.

The thing about birthdays is, I get something called presents. Mom doesn’t wrap them up like she would for humans because I am not a destructive dog. I could never tear up paper or even de-stuff a toy, for that matter.

I live with an older small dog who would, and he will steal my new toys, but that’s for another story.

Until then, I’m going to enjoy this birthday thing and hope it lasts a long time.

I Love This Song!

Aiden wearing hat

Today started out like an ordinary day, but then Christy got all silly and put this hat on me.

Aiden wearing hat

I know what’s going on. Whenever I hear this song, I remember the first time Christy and a bunch of my friends with their dogs sang it to me. “Happy Birthday!”

I turned seven on April 25.

I get all happy and excited ever since the day I first heard the Happy Birthday song. I remember my first birthday with Christy where I got tons of amazing treats and toys, and when I hear it, I think everyone is singing for me and all the goodies will follow.

We went to a Bible study group and a guy there would sing Happy Birthday just to see if I would get excited. Oh, how Mom misses you, Gerry.

I digress, if a dog can do such a thing.

I am seven years old in people years, which means nothing to me. Mom got me “senior dog” food to make sure I get the proper nutrition. It doesn’t matter to me; as long as I have food in my bowl, I’m happy.

Aiden on grass