Can He Talk?

Today at the food pantry, a little boy about three years old asked me, very politely, if he could pet Isaac. I said he could and told Isaac "go say hi," which is the command that lets him know it is OK to socialize.

When he heard me tell Isaac to say hi, the little boy's eyes got very wide and he asked, sounding awestruck, "Can this dog talk?"

Guy at the post office: What's your dog's name?

Me: Isaac.

(really long pause)

Guy: I take it you're a Christian?"

Me (confused): Huh?

Guy: I take it you're a Christian?

Me (caught off guard and fearing he is going to try to save me): Um, no...

Guy: I just thought, you know, Isaac is a Bible name.

Me: Oh! Yes, it's Hebrew. It means "he laughs."

Guy: My mom has a dog named Brewski.

Rough Morning – for Me and Isaac

Saturday started out not-so-great.  I didn’t sleep well Friday night.  I was feeling homesick, I guess.  I dunno.  I felt kind of anxious, I didn’t really like my hotel room, I was missing Cayenne and was a little worried about her being alone.  I was feeling worried about how Isaac would do the next day, when we had a busy day scheduled with friends.  Maybe I was worried about how I would do, too.   

My bed in the hotel room was really uncomfortable and I woke up about 2:00 am with horrendous pain in both hips.  I got up and moved around a little, and then I took a Tramadol (one of the few I have left), and then I was able to go back to sleep.  And when I got up at 7:00 am, I felt much better.

But then I wanted to have a protein shake for breakfast.  Friday night I bought two little bottles of milk at Subway when I picked up dinner and put them in the mini-fridge in my room.  When I got them out Saturday morning, I discovered the milk was frozen solid.  Apparently the temp in my fridge is way too cold.  So no protein shake.

I ate a protein bar instead and then Isaac and I headed off to Panera.  My plan was to hang out there, where the internet moves faster than a snail, until my friend called with an update on our plans for the day.  

At Panera, I ordered a large green tea.  My hands were full with my purse, my laptop, Isaac’s leash and my tea when my phone rang.  As I pulled the phone out of my pocket, I managed to dump the large iced tea on poor Isaac’s head.  Isaac, understandably, was shocked.  And offended.  He did not enjoy his impromptu shower one bit.

I was embarrassed.  I grabbed several handfuls of napkins and tried to dry off my service dog, who wanted to shake himself the way dogs do when they are wet, which I did  not want him to do because we were in a crowded restaurant.  I finally got things cleaned up as much as possible, apologized to Isaac about a million times, and hightailed it out of Panera.  

From the car, I called my friend back.  She said she and our other friend were hungry and wanted caffeine and would come meet me and Isaac at Panera.  I decided to wait out on the patio, in the hopes that most of the people that saw me spill my large green tea on my dog would be gone by the time my friends arrive and I went back inside.

We ended up all sitting out on the patio with our coffees, which Isaac enjoyed a lot.  He was good, relaxing in the sunshine and fresh air for quite a while.  He finally started getting restless and I took him for a short walk around the parking lot.

Here's a Funny Service Dog Story for You

Someone I know that has a service dog works as a court reporter.  One day she was at work, at the courthouse, and came down in the elevator to the lobby.  As she was exiting the elevator with her service dog, someone asked, "Is that a drug dog?"  You know, the type of trained dog that sniffs out illegal drugs.

There were about 100 people in the courthouse lobby, some waiting to go through the metal detectors to get into the building, others waiting for an elevator, others trying to figure out where they were supposed to be going, etc.  She answered, in a loud voice, "Yes, this is a drug dog."

About half the people in the lobby quickly exited the building.

Do Service Dogs Poop?

Someone I know that has a service dog told me this story a few days ago.

She was getting ready to go into a grocery store with her service dog and she stopped in a grassy area at the side of the parking lot to let her dog go potty before entering the store.  The dog pooped and she picked it up with a plastic bag.  She noticed another customer staring and her and her dog, looking shocked and amazed.

The customer said, "Could I ask you a question?"

The service dog handler said, "Sure."

The customer said, "Do they all do that?"

The service dog handler said, "All do what?"

The customer said, "Poop."

The service dog handler was, naturally, a bit confused.

The customer explained, "I thought service dogs didn't poop.  I thought they bred them that way.  I've always felt bad for them because they can't poop."

Um... how could they breed a dog so it couldn't poop?  But if they do, I want one of those service dogs.  I want a cat that doesn't poop, too.