Long Weekend Audio: What Made Me Choose A Guide Dog

Here comes another one. This one will be quick. Ceci asked me what made me decide to get a guide dog...so I started talking.

I hope something in here makes some sense. Sometimes I feel like my thoughts are a bit disorganized and confusing. But I think my main points are walk with some guide dog teams and if you can, spend a little time with one, so you can really get a feel for it. And, ask lots and lots of questions.

I wrote some of this down in this ADBC post from a while back but here it is in audio form. Enjoy. This one's only 15 minutes.

The Guide Dog Obstacle Course

Holy crap where is time going? It's carnival time again. And I was an extra big loser and didn't post the link to the October carnival when it came out. I'll blame having a brand spankin' new job for that little slip-up. Ah well, I'll do better this time.

The subject of this carnival is obstacles. Amazingly, when I saw this topic, I knew instantly what I was going to talk about. Now, the trick is getting it into something comprehensible. I warn you right now, this one is probably going to be long, winding, confusing, and huge.

Something neat they did at GDB for each class was set up an obstacle course that we all had to pass through to get from our dorm to the training buses, or vice versa. The dogs had been through this obstacle course and knew it like the back of their paws, but it was to get used to following your dog and to get to know what it felt like for them to dodge obstacles. But when you think about it, going through the process of getting an assistance dog of any type, and learning how to be a team, is a great big obstacle course, and the obstacles are slightly different for each person. If you're going to make it from contemplating having a service dog to having one and being a seasoned team, you have to navigate the obstacle course that lies between A and B. Let's talk about that course, what it was for me, and what it can possibly look like for others too.

My first obstacle was uncertainty. I'd heard how much people liked having guide dogs and how awesome they were, but I just wasn't sure if I was ready for it all. Could I handle all the responsibility? Even if I could handle the every day things, what on earth would I do if that dog had a huge vet expense? Was I a good enough traveller that a. a school would consider me a good candidate, and b. the pooch would get enough work? I had heard that getting a guide dog was a bit of a gamble because not all teams worked out. Could I handle the heartbreak if it didn't work out? Would I be able to do it again? On the other end, I felt that once I had decided yes, barring the team being a total fail, this dog would be with me for 8 or 9 years. Was I ready to make such a commitment? Then I think about the people who have to pay thousands of dollars for a service dog outright. If I'd had to do that, it would have been game over.

I spent a lot of time in that phase, because I didn't know anybody with a guide dog well enough to just ask them question after question after question. I think this is the reason lots of people stay in that phase, along with the misinformation out there about whether you would need a guide or service dog. For example, I've heard stories of lots of people who are legally, but not totally, blind, walking around thinking they had too much sight to get a guide dog. They would hit things their cane couldn't find or struggle along, all the while saying they had too much vision. Meanwhile, they would probably qualify for, and benefit from, a guide dog.

Or, I hear about people who have a second disability along with the main one that makes them think about a dog getting the idea that they wouldn't be able to manage a dog. In fact, lots of people who have trouble hearing or have bad joints or other disabilities do just fine with a guide dog. It's all about finding the right school and the right help.

Plus, while I was in university, I didn't think I could spend a month in guide dog training because most summers I was taking courses as well. So in a sense, not feeling like I had the time to dedicate to this was another obstacle. When I hear about people getting guide dogs in the middle of a school semester, or getting a guide dog right before heading off to school, and then I see them succeed, I feel like they are a far better person than I am. I personally feel like I need time to digest things, and don't need to be doing course work during my down time at guide dog training, or learning a whole new place as well as how to work with a guide dog. To me, that just sounds like a recipe for disaster. But it works for some, so all the more power to 'em.

But as I was getting close to the end of my degree, I gave it more serious thought. After finally figuring out what questions I needed to ask, I started talking to people. Some of those fears and uncertainties started not to seem like such a big deal.

And then, once I decided to do it, came the difficult task of choosing what schools to apply to. Yeesh. There are so many things to consider. What kind of follow-up do you get? What about help with vet bills if you need it? What is the training like? Can you find grads from each school to talk to? Can you get a general sense from people about what schools have a good reputation and which ones aren't so good? If you get accepted to two schools, what on earth do you do? Do you just take the first class that comes along, or do you decide that you only go to school b if school a doesn't want you? So this wasn't so much an obstacle as it was a slippery spot.

Ok, schools decided. Now comes the application process. Don't get me wrong, all those forms are probably very helpful to the schools, but jeebers hell that alone felt like an obstacle. Plus, depending on what school I applied to, the forms weren't always accessible right off the bat. So, suddenly I had all this material dropped in my lap, and didn't know what to do with it. And not all these forms were to be filled out by me! I had to get doctors, ophthalmologists, and other people to fill some of them out. It was a small obstacle of sorts, but I figure it's worth mentioning.

And it's at this point along the way that you might start finding out how people around you feel about this whole dog thing. Some people might have misgivings about it, for lots of reasons. What if someone you live with or visit is alergic to dogs? How will they, or you, know if your guide dog will cause a reaction? With most people, it's as simple as if they don't touch the dog, they'll be all good, and you might have to make sure the dog doesn't come over and try and make friends with them if you're visiting them. If it's someone you live with, you'll have to start thinking about ways to make things manageable, if that's possible. But all this planning and negotiating could test how ready you are for this lifestyle change. In a way, it's a warm-up for when you come home with the dog and have to start being assertive and say "Yes, this dog can come in your restaurant or store."

The documentation is in, now it's time for the home interview. I hate to call the home interview an obstacle, because they're not out to make it hard for you. But it can delay your progress to having a guide dog because they see things that need work, or they say something that makes you start to rethink the whole thing. You're probably beyond that point once you've gotten here, but hey, anything's possible. So what could they see that could slow things down for you? Sometimes it's your level of ability to travel on your own. Sometimes it's where you're living. Sometimes it's something else. At any rate, if something looks off, that may slow you down, or make you reconsider.

So you make it through the application process and are accepted. You head off to class. You may think it's over, but it is just beginning. Only then do some people truly realize how much work goes into having a guide dog, and that no matter what time of day or night, that guide dog is your responsibility. Sometimes, this can be an obstacle for people who didn't ask enough questions or watch enough teams or whatever. Suddenly, they're back to the uncertainty phase of "Am I really ready for this? Do I want this at all? Maybe I don't mind my cane. My cane doesn't yelp when I fold it in four and throw it in a corner."

So you make it through training and you graduate and come home with your new partner. Unfortunately, for the first little while, life may seem full of obstacles. First, I don't know if this happens to everybody, but I was tired as hell for the first month or two. I felt like my life was completely rearranged, and now I had to think of all these things to do with the dog, and just when would I have time for my normal life again? Of course, that went away once I figured it out, but that can seem like one hell of a trial, if not an obstacle.

On top of that, depending on who you live with and how they are with respecting what you need to do to keep your dog working for you, you may have a battle on your hands. It's even more tiring when you have to fend off people in your own home from feeding your dog things or trying to play with him or her or constantly saying "Do we really have to bring the dog?" Hopefully this won't take too long, but it isn't easy when you're so new and unsure and all that stuff.

If that isn't enough, depending on where you live, you may run into lots of "You can't bring that dog in here!" and you may have to get very good at educating people on the laws in your area. Thankfully, I was very lucky and really didn't deal with a lot of that. But when it happens, it can be stressful.

And then there's the ultimate obstacle...when the team doesn't work out and you have to decide. Do I do this all over again, or do I just go back to life without a dog? Did the good outweigh the bad? If so, what would I do differently next time? I had to do this after Babs didn't work out, and god that was painful. But I think I knew in my heart that when she was showing me the positive aspects of having a dog, I wanted that again.

Sheesh! I think we made it through the obstacle course! I'm sure there are other possibilities I haven't thought of, but those were the ones that came to mind. Please don't think that I'm saying that getting a guide or service dog is more trouble than its worth, or something equally negative. All I'm saying is someone really has to want it to follow it all the way to the end. Plus, sometimes obstacles are a good thing. I have seen lots of people run headlong into getting a dog, crawl through class gripping the dream of having a dog with white knuckles, failing to see the warning signs that maybe this isn't a good idea, and then get coughed out the other end and want to give up at the first little hitch they encounter. Obstacles, despite their negative connotation, give you time to think things through. They make sure that you really want this, or I would hope they do.

And here's a message for all the people who say "Why doesn't x person have a dog?" As you can see from this long, winding post, deciding to pair up with a dog isn't an easy one, and for some, it may not be the right one. At the end of it all, each person has to know whether having a service dog is right for them. We can just hope that people considering it get all the information to help make that decision.

What A Difference A Dog Makes!

Since I've been such a blog slacker this year, I missed the April assistance dog blog carnival. Plus I was kinda stressed out by something which I still need to write about. But anyway, the July one came up and I decided I was going to do my best to hit it. So I went to read about it. This is what I read. The topic is "the difference", and the deadline hit me on the head like a rock. "July 22..." That is a very significant date for me when it comes to dogs, because July 22, 2005 was the day I had to give Babs back to the school and accept that she needed to be retired just 8 weeks after bringing her home.

So, I could not ignore this carnival, even if I wanted to, especially since the topic was "the difference". I thought about my training with Babs versus training with Trixie, and what a difference it made to be prepared, to know what not to do, and to know how better to stand up and ask about things that worried me. What a difference a couple of years and choice of school made. What a difference between dogs. Just, what a difference!

Ok, let's slow down. How about we meet Babs, shall we? Everything I ever wrote about her is in there. I even put up my training journals, although I posted them 3 years after the fact.

Babs, god love her, did the best she could. She served a purpose, even though it wasn't to be my guide dog for years to come. When she was good, she was freaking amazing. But oh, oh, when things were bad, they were baaaaaad.

But I, also, didn't have a clue. I went into training with minimal ideas of what to expect, how to deal with things when they didn't go so well, or what was just plain old wrong. I didn't know dog switches were possible, nor had I a clue about how many dogs' careers were ended early. I was living in a dream world of la la la, I'm going to have a guide dog, things are gonna be great, la dee dee.

Then, Babs came along to shake up my world. First off, I don't think we were a good match. She was dominant as all hell, and I was timid at the time. She was more dog than I could probably handle. Plus, as I discovered in training, she was ill.

As we found out, we didn't work out. On July 22, they came to get her. "I'll need the harness, the leash, and her medication," Peter said as he stood at my door. This man had driven me around on many training routes, and now he'd been dispatched to come get my dog. Medically, behaviourally, she wasn't going to work out. So off she went to live with a family who would love her as a pet. And I was left to wonder just how I'd managed to fail so epically. I didn't blame myself for the medical issues, but I gave myself hell for allowing her to think she was alpha.

Fast forward to March 21, 2007. I was going to get a female black lab named Trixie. That morning, I went over in my head what I would do differently, and even so, I wasn't sure I could get it right this time.

When they introduced me to Trixie, among other descriptive details, they said she was 55 pounds. My heart must have landed in my throat. After all, Babs was 52 pounds, and she was too much for me. What was I headed for with a 55-pounder? "Are you happy with her?" the trainer asked as I processed all her information as best I could. I managed to say yes, but I was scared shitless. But I was soon to find out the difference between Babs and Trixie was like night and day.

For one, the training was different. I was in a class full of new dog handlers, which meant the instructors had lots of time for us and the class was geared for the newb. When I trained with Babs, inexplicably, they put me in a retrain class. They promised me individualized training, but at the end of the day, the ratio was still 4 students to 1 instructor, and a limited amount of time. It wasn't gonna happen.

Second, Trix is a totally different dog with a totally different pull. If she wants to, she can pull like a freight train, but that isn't her constant speed. And although food can be o so tempting, she isn't driven to it as much as Babs was. Plus, she doesn't think of herself as the alpha. What a huge difference that is alone! And perhaps most importantly, she's been a very healthy dog, so much so that the rare times she's sick, I don't know what to do.

And finally, when my time with Trix came around, I knew a few things, and had made about six zillion mistakes with Babs, so I was determined not to make them again with Trix. And although I may have made a few with Trix, they weren't nearly so catastrophic. As well, with Trix, if anything didn't look right at all, I would speak up about it immediately. I accepted so much on blind faith when I went to get Babs. That was not going to happen again.

So, the one thing I have learned from all of this is everything can make a difference, from the dog, to the kind of training, to the handler's experience level and state of mind. All of it makes the package. Change one thing, and what a difference!

And even though it may sound like I don't have much good to say about Babs, she made a difference in my life too, making me decide that I do want a guide dog despite all our troubles. I still feel her mark on my heart to this day. I think about her, and wonder how she's doing. Babs, I hope you're happy wherever you are, enjoying life as a different kind of dog, a pet.

Weaping For Willow

Well, I'm still up. I took a wee unintentional nap. Now I'm just loading books on my Stream so I'll have things to listen to during my travels home.

But I wanted to make a quick note of something I found out today. I was sending notes out to friends wishing them a merry Christmas. I sent one to the guy I called student Tim in my Babs journals. I had heard that Willow, the one who graduated with him when he was in our class, was ill, and needed to be retired. Now I hear that he just put her to sleep.

I know their lives are much shorter than ours, but I'm never ready for a pooch to pass away. It especially scares me since Babs and I graduated with them. This really makes me want to check on Babs.

Sorry to leave on a sad note, since this is likely my last post before I hit the greyhound. I basically have to be headed for the station in about 6 hours. woo hoo. I'm gonna be such a zombi!

You Have, One, New Drug Deal In Your Mailbox

Here's a tip. When calling your boss and leaving a voicemail, always check that you've hung up properly before continuing with your activities, especially if they involve making a drug deal. If you don't, you may end up fired, just like Joseph Stankiewicz did.

He claims that it's not him on the recording, but a judge noticed that the voice is the same, and it even mentions expecting a call back from his work and tells his companion to be quiet if he gets a call back. So um, he's kinda busted.

Also included in this article is a long list of other folks who didn't learn how to properly hang up or dial their phones, including the dude who meant to call his friend, but called his boss. He somehow didn't notice he had dialed wrong, and left a big ol' message on the machine about how much his boss was driving him insane.

This reminds me of something that happened to me. I was back at guide dog school getting Babs, and a friend called me to see how I was doing. We talked for a while and I said I wanted to call mom and dad, but it was tricky to do that, since there was only one phone in the hall. My friend said she had conference calling capabilities, so she could connect me with mom and dad. I thought this was a great idea, and asked her if she would do that. She called them, but we got their answering machine. I left a message, and then I thought she had hung up. So we were gabbing away...and...then I heard the old familiar boop boop that means you're approaching the limit for the answering machine! We were still leaving a voicemail! I asked her to erase it, and she tried, but failed. So mom and dad got a voicemail complete with a bunch of swearing. They took it well. I turned 40 shades of red.

Thoughts Knocking Around In My Head

I have more random thoughts. I must be in a thoughtful mood since I'm here all alone. Maybe it keeps me from talking to myself if I write on the blog. Na, I'd probably talk to myself anyway, and hey, if I'm talking, I could be talking to the Trixter.

What I did find myself doing yesterday was singing, and of all things, Tom Lehrer's Christmas Carol. It just came to me out of the blue. I can't help but be amazed at how much of a genius this guy is. He wrote that in the 50's, and it couldn't be more true today, sometimes I think it's even more accurate today. As far as I know, Tom Lehrer is still with us. Let's make sure he didn't get swept off the planet in the great herd-thinning of 2009. Wikipedia says he's still alive, so let's hope they're right. Phew! I don't have to make a so long for him! Let's hope he's still as bright as he ever was. It would be ashame if he's now wasting away with Alzheimer's or something.

Last night, I had it reaffirmed that time is going too fast. Huppy's mom invited me over to their place for dinner. After we finished eating, we were watching some special features on a Star Trek season DVD that they had, and they had an interview with James Doohan, ya know, Scotty. I was trying to remember when he died, and they said it was 2005. I refused to believe them, so looked it up, and my god, it was that long ago! That couldn't be possible, but it is. I can't believe I don't remember that. I mean, he died two days before they came to get Babs. You'd think those two events would be etched in my memory together, but they're not.

And in my attempt to find out when Scotty got beamed up to the great beyond, I found Dead or Alive, a site dedicated mainly to knowing if a given celebrity is dead or alive. You can waste some serious time going through this thing. You can also get scared when you see they're tracking people who are my parents' ages and younger, and they say they only track people after they reach a certain age or if they're sick.

The huppy really wants to crawl, or move, or scoot, or do something. I know, before I know it, he'll be on the move and causing trouble. That must have been why I had the dream I did the other night. I dreamed he was laying there babbling and gurgling and kicking his feet, and then suddenly he was up, on his feet, and running around. Then he fell down and instead of crying, he said perfectly clearly, "Ow! I hurt my arm!" We were all amazed in the dream, and none of us were able to say a word. What a silly dream.

Two more little tips about Echo. If you do reply via email, and you have your email program set to add people to your address book who you reply to, you may want to go through your address book every now and then and clean it out of Js-Kit addresses, because every comment thread you reply to has its own email address.

And this is also why the poor things get flagged as spam. Each address is long, and hairy, and full of numbers and letters, and they look like the spammiest spam ya ever did see to a spam filter. So we may be training the poor spam filters for a while.

I had something reinforced the other day that I already knew. If you have to use the bus to get around, for pete's sake, don't forget anything anywhere along your route. If you do, and you have to finish everything by bus, you will significantly lengthen your time doing everything.

The other day I decided to go get Trixie's weight checked, and I found something last minute that I needed for Christmas. I had ordered it before, but it was backordered, and it was looking like it wouldn't make it. So I found it in town. It wasn't there when I looked before, but I decided to check again, and well look at what I found!

Anyway I set off. But what I didn't realize was I didn't have my bank card with me. I expected it to be in my coat pocket, but had just moved it the night before. I realized this just when I got to the store. Now that's an embarrassing moment. You feel like such a tool. You walk in a store and just realize that you forgot your bank card and you have no money on you. You're sure the people in the store think you're crazy for walking in there with nothing to buy anything with.

I finally decided I would have to bus back downtown to the bank, convince them I am who I say I am, and get some money out that way. So...I had to wait for the bus to take me downtown. I just happened to miss a bus, so I had to wait 20 minutes. I got downtown, got the money, and ran another errand downtown...and happened to miss the next rotation of buses, so had to wait again. Then I had to go back out there, buy what I came for, and then wait for the bus...which I just missed, and then transfer to another bus that would get me home. This tacked on at least an hour and a half of simply twiddling my thumbs waiting for buses and riding them. Ridiculous!

I know inefficiency is the nature of the beast when you're dealing with public transit, but...good god! I was praying that someone I knew would randomly appear, complete with car, and help me out. But I think because life wanted to teach me a lesson, nobody did, and I had to do this all by bus. Did I mention that Thursday was freezing? Let's just say I'll be obsessively making sure I have my bank card with me every time I'm going somewhere else, which means I'll forget something else I need.

And speaking of forgetting things, I could have sworn I had something else I had to say, but I can't remember what it would be. Oh well, when I remember, at least I don't have to catch a bus to put it up.

So I think that's about it for now. Everybody stay warm and cosy, especially those of you who are being hammered by snow down in the states. You can also keep the snow where you are. I don't need it to stop me from getting home for Christmas.

I'm Running Out Of Names For These Thought Posts

Here comes another thought splatter. Enjoy.

Silly Trixie has a new morning habit. She usually sleeps out in her bed in the living room. I have no idea why. But at some point in the night, she gets up and comes to the bed by me. But she used to just come in and lay down. I'd wake up and there she'd be. But lately, she feels the need to say hello to me. She doesn't make a big production out of it, she just puts her head up on the bed and gives me a sniff or a lick. Then she quietly lays down on her bed and waits for me to wake up. What a little sweetheart.

Every winter, I have to relearn those little things that help me deal with the picking up of Trixie's poop in the snow. The first time snow falls, I'm so clueless. I forget that I can in fact see the contrast sort of, so aim is a little easier. There are times when I think about that relieving harness thingy. But I'm still not sure.

I'm really wishing I hadn't lost that whistle that I had from the Babs days. Honestly, I don't know how I lost it, but try as I might, I can't find it. I had totally planned to teach Trixie to only eat after I blew the whistle, and always carry it with me, because once it's associated with food, it's a great recall tool. I wish I had that right now because I want to take Trix out in the snow to play, but the snow is covered with ice, and I'm always afraid I'll fall if she's running around on a flexi which is tied to me. If I could let her loose and just call her back every so often, I'd know where she was at and be able to keep her from the road.

I should just buy another dog whistle. But I know not all dog whistles are created equal. This one I really couldn't hear it, but I've heard some that I can actually hear and ouch ouch ouch! Maybe I should call the other school, and ask them about whistles, and take a big gulp and ask if they even know where Babs is or how she's doing. She appears in my head, insistantly. Part of me really needs to know.

I have discovered that I'm doomed. Advertising has invaded my brain. The other day, we had the oldies radio station on, and on came "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year." And before I made any conscious thought, I thought "What? It's not back to school time!" Then I realized how ridiculous that was. The commercial for Staples that uses that song and advertises back to school supplies had taken a more prominent place in my head than the actual song. Oh dear dear.

The other day I had said that Harley wasn't doing well, and wished that she would go before they had to take her in. Well, as I said in the comments, I got my wish. When mom and dad woke up, old Harl was laying there, just as if she was sleeping, looking very peaceful. Good, the poor thing didn't have to go through some last moments of panic. That would have been no good at all.

I thought I'd mention two more things about Echo that I've noticed. First, if a sub-thread within a comment thread gets big enough, it gets collapsed in on itself, so the first couple things are shown and then the last thing is shown. There are a set of words that say x number more, click to expand. That text is clickable, even though it doesn't look like it. So screenreader folks, you have to click that to see the rest of the thread. But if you subscribe to the threads by email, you won't even have to deal with that. I'm amazed at how much bigger the threads get because I don't have to go check on them. I just reply to an email. Then I look and...holy crap! That's a lot of comments!

On the good news front, I'm seeing more and more often that when I get emails from Echo, the link doesn't just go to the main page or something, it actually goes to the comment thread where the new comment can be found. You guys rock. Keep leaving the competition in the volcanic dust as Ro put it.

Speaking of Ro, she has news. She had her home interview, and it went well! I knew it I knew it I knew it. Now we just wait until I win the pool...er...she gets her class date.

I got some stuff for Trixie's raisers! It wasn't as cool as I had hoped, but I hope they enjoy it. Next year, I will get something that's a little more filled with Trixie-related pictures or something. But at least this year, they did get to see her in person, so I guess that makes up for it.

Here's a note to Wine Country Gift Baskets. You really should have a contact phone number on the site. Your site is a bit screenreader-unfriendly, and I didn't feel like dealing with it. So I thought I'd call you, but searching for the words "telephone" or "contact us" didn't give me anything. The only time I could find any reference to contact was on the order page where your site asked for my contact info. So, I broke down and ordered your basket from Amazon, and everybody knows how much Amazon pisses me off. Really, you should have a phone number. You don't know how many people you may be losing who don't feel comfortable giving their info over the net, or maybe want to ask a question about something.

But you know what getting Trixie's raisers a gift means? I'm all done! I'm just waiting for a few things to come in the mail, but everything is bought!

And I'm also all done with this post. But don't worry, you'll be seeing more of me later today. Or maybe you should worry, if you're sick of my ramblings.

Chuck's Coming Today!

Well, Chuck from GDB is coming up today to see me. I'm looking forward to it and I'm nervous at the same time. I know last year's follow-up went really well, so I don't want to disappoint him. But at the same time, I'm having a few wee problems, some of them are definitely my fault, so I hope he can set me on the right path without having to get too mad, not that Chuck really gets mad anyway. Even when I bombed in 2005, he didn't really get mad per se. Well, he was annoyed that Babs's stuf wasn't settled, but I don't blame him one bit for that. Plus, I don't think my home gave him a good impression. It wasn't really the inside of my home that was bad, it was the outside, courtesy of Stupidhead and company leaving beer caps, glass and other trash about.

So here are my two pleas. Trixie, for the love of Pete, do not try to sniff Chuck's, uh, nether regions, ok? You have a thing for that, and try as I might, you still keep doing it. Please, just for once, don't try and have a grand ol' snifferoo. Can you do that for me? Sometimes I swear you can understand English, so listen up. Don't sniff Chuck there. Got it? Hope so.

And mother nature, please don't drop one of those out of the clear blue sky rainstorms on us as we walk. I have a semi-longish route in mind, hopefully one that leads me next to a pedestrian walking a dog so Chuck can see my dog distraction issues, so I don't need to be wet. and don't have a thunder storm either. Trixie hates thunder, and it was thundering the day I bombed the 2005 interview, which was August 10, dangerously close to this date. Why do I remember such stupid details? Anyway, don't bring bad things. Let us have a peaceful route.

That's all. I'm sure everything will go fine. I'm just a wee bit nervous.

Trixie Chit Chat

I think it's time for another episode of let's googoo and gaga about Trixie. They're so much fun.

I've never written about her giant burps she lets out after eating. Some of them sound like they came out of a person! I was home for Christmas and she burped and mom looked around to see where dad or my brother came from. Now that's a big dog burp.

If you put Trixie on a leash and walked her around Guelph, she would probably show you everywhere I go. She always makes me look like such a lush if I take her into this funky little mall we have downtown. She heads straight for the liquor store! We've been there before, but we've also been to the chocolate store, the pharmacy, the Radio Shack, er, The Source, *whatever*, the cafe, but what does she book it for? The booze! Man alive you'd think I was there all the time! She's developing quite the memory for people we know, and their cars. She recognizes cabs, friends' cars, buses, it's amazing.

She's also capable of amazing leaps of deductive reasoning. Steve's sister came to pick us up, and I took Trixie to go pee. She watched Steve and his sister get in the car, and when it pulled up next to where she was going pee, she decided that they must be waiting for us, so she wasn't going to poop. Silly girl.

Sometimes those leaps of reasoning are wrong, but I at least know where her mind is at so I don't feel like her mistakes are dangerous. I was standing at a corner, and a woman in an idling car at an intersection said I could go ahead. I repeated it back to her to be sure, and we started off. Because we'd had a conversation, Trixie thought maybe I wanted to get in her car! Woops! I told her not today, and she continued on. But hey, I could see where she'd get that idea.

I knew snow would give her troubles, but I never thought she would treat mud as an obstacle to be avoided like the plague. But she did! She would stop dead and show me the mud like "No no. Don't make us walk through that horrible stuff. No no nooo!" Silly Princess Trixie. But at least the mud is getting to be less prevalent. I love spring. Right now, I can walk outside without even a coat. This is perfect. If only it was like this all year.

I took Trixie out for a flexi on Sunday, and I forgot how much I enjoy them in the spring. I can run behind her without tripping over snow and ice! It's just plain fun! I love watching her brain work. I think she figured out that underneath the snow, the same grass was there all along. She was sniffing at some little bits of snow and saw there was grass under there. I could have been dreaming, but I think something clicked in her lab head. She was having so much fun, even more than she had in the winter.

We were having so much fun that we, um, flexied a little too far. Trixie was romping and sniffing, sniffing and romping, when suddenly I noticed that I couldn't hear the corner's audible signal anymore! Woops! We were around the corner and travelling up the other street. We were safely on the inner grass, but woops! Trixie suddenly realized we were on foreign territory, because she stopped dead and started looking left and right. I eventually figured out where I was, and we made our way back, but that's when you know you're having fun!

I forgot how much of a perma-wag Trix gets going. She had it last year when we came home, and with the change in the weather, it made her less waggy. Now, it's back! It's so fun to watch! My puppy enjoys this weather as much as I do.

One thing she hasn't done yet with this weather is do that flop and snort routine when we come home from walking somewhere. She still flops and snorts in the morning, but there's no post-route flop snort, or sprint. Now, she just walks around the room really fast. I think she's happy, but I really enjoyed the post-route flop snort! I hope it comes back.

That big heavy bone I got last year when I came home finally died a month or so ago. It wasn't intimidating in the least anymore! It had just gotten very pointy at each end. Oh dear. But Autumn, my room-mate from guide dog school if you don't remember, sent her another one and it arrived today! Heehee! Trixie just about grabbed it and ran off!

AS an aside, Autumn's dog is having some troubles and is getting looked at by GDB vets. Let's hope the results of tests are good. I don't think the troubles are really serious, but they're serious enough to get her a trip back to GDB for tests.

Wanna know something else scary? The roll of bags that I bought when I got Babs, and still had when Trixie came home, is still kickin'! It has a wabble to it now, but it is very much alive and has many many bags to go. When it finally dies, that'll be a scary day. Yea Market Fresh roll of produce bags. You rock my world.

Next week, I take Trixie for her annual checkup! Yeah! Again, that feels special to me. That's something I never got to do with Babs. Hopefully all the news is glowing and good. I'm going to start her on Revolution to prevent nasty parasites from biting her, because I've heard nothing but good things about it. Hopefully it's easy to apply.

Oh, Steve's little brother has competition for Trixie's affections here in Guelph. She has fallen head over heels for The guy who came over to watch Mania with us on Sunday. My god! I don't know what it is, but she just can't get enough of him.

I have some thoughts that keep circling about Babs after I wrote that final journal entry. First, man did that dog get a lot of ear infections! Lord! I think she had 3 in the time I had her! Yeah, that's what happens when you don't get trained to clean her ears. Lab ears are prone to infections! Trixie has had 2 infections during our time together, both of which were caused when her ears would get licked by other dogs, and the alcohol-free baby wipes I was using just weren't doing the trick. Now that I have the wipes from the vet, we've been ear infection free!

And man did Babs have relieving issues. I'm sure anyone who read my final Trixie training entry would have gotten to the part where I talked about how Trixie had already pooped and peed several times here in her new relieving zone and would have been like "What's the big deal, she's pooped and peed a few times in her new home. Woopdy friggin doo." But if they knew Babs, they would understand. Whenever Babs was in a new place, she would not go. She wouldn't poop, wouldn't poop, wouldn't poop. and then she exploded. I was lucky she held it until we got to the park.

Visiting people was a ball of fun. Barb, do you remember how many rainy evening trips we made out to your lawn hoping she would just poop already? She wouldn't poop until the last day I was there! And then she pooped a few times unexpectedly. I remember your dad saying "don't worry about relieving her, she already busied herself in the backyard." Uh, um, oops.

And Babs wasn't too good at letting me know when she had to go in an emergency. Trixie figured out that I cannot see, so if she needs to go in one heck of a hurry, she should come over to me and wack her nose into my leg or my hand. Then when I would get up, she would walk to the door. Yup, that's straightforward, to the point, and effective! What was Babs's I gotta go signal. She would sniff my coat! No sir, that would not get my attention. I was just lucky mom was still there when she did that.

And let me say again that I was a fool with Babs. I would think nothing of taking her down completely new routes a couple of days after coming home, expecting her to just know what to do, even if I didn't. Ooo there were some really really dumb crossings I did where I didn't line up right, and I just thought she'd fix it. Oh boy no she didn't, and we had to be rescued! It was bad, bad times. Soon Babs learned that I hadn't a clue, and started exploiting that, dragging me towards food and anything else she could scavenge. Oh the lessons I had to learn. Sure, you can go on new routes eventually, but that comes with time. AT first, you have to do the tried and true so that you know you can trust her and she knows what you expect. Then you can go exploring.

I think that's about it for another episode. I'm sure I'll be back sooner than later. Tomorrow is The Trixter's birthday, and next Tuesday, we will have been home one year. What a year. What a learning process.

The Babs Journal: Day 19 (May 27, 2005) and Beyond!

Wow! I awaken for the last time in the training centre. I get up, and I get ready. Everything but the bare necessities are packed. I'm attempting to squeeze the last of it into the suitcase. It all goes in and wow, not even a really split zipper. But it was close for sure. A good sign I remembered everything.

So down to breakfast I go, and we actually have eggs! Anka goes around to every dog and says goodbye to them. She calls me small girl, ever since on visitor's day I told her that my parents said she looked 35 when she's 52. She stood behind me and said in a menacing voice, mocking of course, "You! Bad small girl!" So on the last day, she said, "bye-bye small dog." It killed me. I let Babs say goodbye to Rob from kennels. She must have thought it was weird, I was letting her get away with murder that day.

As I crammed everything in, Anka came in and took Babs's dog bed. Babs was so confused. She sniffed the area where it once had been. Then she lay down, put her head on her paws, and if there was ever a way of saying, "holy crap my life is changing, she expressed it plainly. No matter how many times I took her busy, she wouldn't go. Poor thing.

I was the last one out. First Sharon headed for Gildwood. Hello 8:57 train. I should shut up, they were going to send me on the 6:20 train. So off she went. Then as I looked around the room for stray objects, I heard Margery about to depart, without even saying goodbye! So I ran and got student Tim and we said goodbye to her. Poor woman. If there is one regret I have, it's the way I unintentionally made her feel like an outcast. I could sense it, the way she would never come to the patio, the way she was mad that we kept her up by talking near her room, the slight disdain I could sense that she seemed to hold towards Sharon, but I didn't have the balls to stop myself from doing the things I did, like continuing to talk there, I may have giggled about some of Margery's goofy behaviours. Plus I didn't have the balls to stand up and try harder to make her feel included. So we all said goodbye and saw her off. Poor woman, left a couple things behind. Woops. Oh well, instructor Tim will bring them to aftercare. I get a ton of that by the way. Tuesday afternoon, Wednesday, a lot of Thursday, part of Friday and the next Tuesday.

Then a bit later, instructor Timm helped me get some dogfood to take home to start me off. So count them. I have a suitcase packed to capacity, a backpack packed to capacity, and now 4 plastic bags. One with leftover things from the train trip down, one with dog things, and two bags of food. That would have been a train disaster.

I talked to student Tim in the hall. He seemed sad and happy to go home. It was weird. So after a while, I went and sat with him while he ate lunch, a damn fine lunch for the sendoff. I didn't have a lunch because I didn't know when I'd be leaving. Dad said he'd be there between 12 and 1. He was a wee bit late, but that can't be helped. So as I settled down with Babs to watch TV, he arrived. We scooped up all my stuff, and Anka hustled me out.

Then we drove home, and stopped frequently to let her go busy, with no results. Not even when I was accidentally left in a giant field near my mom's school for an hour. Meet my parents, masters of miscommunication. Apparently I let my dog lead me to the *only* place in the field where I was shielded from view. Thanks, Babs. Oh well. Mom eventually found me and then we went home. And I did the thing I shouldn't do. In desperation that she go busy, we free ran her. But she was good, and that did help her go.

and so began the long string of errors. Well, the first one was coming home to mom and dad's first instead of going straight home to Guelph to settle in. The school didn't impress upon me the importance of coming straight home and settling into a routine so the dog would feel secure and know where home is. . They sort of hinted at it by not being too sure about my plans to go to mom's first. But they didn't sit me down and say "Listen, that's really not advisable."

So we brought her in, on leash, and she sniffed the place out. Then we hid the cat, because when Babs saw her, she sorta took on attack posture, and we thought hmmm that could be bad. But we took her off leash because she was settled down. She spent most of the evening sleeping.

Hmmm. Yeah, letting her off leash in not even your own house the first night home. Somebody's a little dim.

Then we showed her to grandma, and the next day, after a long pause while mom and dad did laundry and such, we set off for Guelph. Babs rode in the back of the SUV thingy they had at the time behind the seats, and seemed to take the trip well. We dropped by my brother's place, and I did another no no. Just shake me. I thought, "Hmmm...she's crazy on leash. If I put her in harness, she'll calm down because she knows she's working." Bzzz, incorrect! She bolted down the street, sniffing every post, everything, sending people into the grass. It was bad bad bad. My parents had a fit, especially my dad, and he and Dave started joking about whether she was the worst member of the guide dog class, or what, which made me bristle.

Can you spot the no no before the one I spotted? Trucking her all over to everybody's house like she was some kind of circus act and then expecting her to work properly. Not smart.

We went back home, which was better, but she was still a crazy sniffer. I was exhausted and having trouble controling her. And then we ran into loose vicious looking dogs! Oh my oh joy oh boy! But we made it, thank god. All I could manage when we got finally home was "wasn't...this...bad...at...training...centre...never...this...bad..."

So we made it home, and my dad continued to flip out, which didn't help my stress level. The next day, that night, and a wee bit longer, I had to take her all the way to this park to busy. It wasn't that far if you j-walked, but it was still kinda far at 6 in the morning and at 10 at night. And there was this little yorkshire tarrier that liked to bark at her from the neighbour's house. But she's good stuff, because even when she had a bit of the runs, she held it all the way to the park. Give her a medal! And then this freak offered her chocolate and she kept trying to make meals out of park litter, so that was driving me nuts.

I was completely bushed. It was hard to even take her to the park. That was about all I had the energy to do. I could come to life long enough to take her to the park, but that was it, folks. I think I had a little system crash from all the stress. I felt ill, so much so that I sent my parents to do my grocery shopping, something I don't like to let my parents loose on. But I didn't care. I didn't even have the strength to muster up to get up and put them away. So mom and dad babied me until the end of Sunday, thankyou thank you mommy and daddy! Then they left, and I was alone with Babs until Tuesday.

After an excursion to the park Monday morning, in which I got lost I might add, but found my way home, , the lady who helps me orient to places and helps me with routes from one place to another showed up...unexpectedly for me! I looked like death. Complete death. And this is the point at which I remember that I did book this session.

So I drag myself out and we try, let me emphasize, try, to do a walk. But Babs becomes a little scavenger. Eating everything off the sidewalk. But I manage to get them back from her jaws. Devil devil devil!

And so begins the real hell...

We come back home...and I flop. Then my friend shows up just to see the dog. and then the lady who was there in the morning comes back and we do another lesson. She's good for a while and then starts to scavenge again. I'm truly bushed now. Don't do much in the evening.

Then instructor Tim shows up and we do aftercare, or start it. AT the beginning, I'm terrified that he'll think I'm wasting his time. But like usual, he makes me feel better, and we write down a whole wack of things to do. That afternoon alone, we find a better relief spot right beside my entrance. No more park for me! Yee woo yea jump and dance and celebrate. Tom the landlord is awesome. He let me use that spot and he was all cool about it. Next we go to the store, and they're fine in there, the bank, the buses, and Diana's restaurant.

I remember being so worried about the convenience store. It's run by Pakistani folk, and I know some of them have real issues with dogs, so I was not going to face my first denial of access alone. But we walked in there, and the older guy was more obsessed with Instructor Tim's watch than my dog, and they've always been fine. With either Babs or Trixie, I haven't had a single denial of access yet! Let's hope that holds!

The jerkfaces broke the crossing to Diana's. Cry cry
cry! They'd better fix it. Lame construction.

He leaves that night and Babs and I just hang out and I talk on the phone.

Then Wednesday was an awesome day. In one day, I got signed up for the guide dog allowance from ODSP, got her registered with a vet, got her city tags, he showed me how to grocery shop with the dog, oh it was absolutely stellar. Oh and we went out for lunch. Did we go up to the university that day? No. I don't think so.

Thursday we went up to the university. I think on Wednesday I took her to the place where I answer phones too, which instructor Tim affectionately calls snaky because the corridors are so snaky. So we did the university library, all that fun joy. We recapped some things, and we played a dirty dirty trick on Babs. Instructor Tim called me and said "Set off to the bank and I'll watch from a distance." She was stellar...until we left the bank and turned around to go home. At one corner, she got something in her mouth. I reached in, and she clamped down harder! Ouch ouch ouchy I can still feel that! I get it out, howl with pain, hurl it, thwack her across the nose because it hurt so bloody, and I'll emphasize that, bloody! much! I drop the handle and wait for instructor Tim.

Just then, two women approach me. "Excuse me ma'am, but you're, um, bleeding. How can we help you? There's a walk-in clinic right nearby,can we take you inside?"

I'm insistent that we wait for my instructor. Meanwhile Babs is desperately trying to lick something off the sidewalk, which the women say is my blood! Mine! Which is all over my shirt now. I look like I just committed a murder. Instructor Tim thinks that these people are my friends...until he sees them doing first aid on my finger. He runs up and says, "Holy Jeepers!" I can hold myself together until I see him. Then I start to cry like a baby. God damn dignity just went right out the window.

By now my finger is bandaged and somewhat cleaned up. Thank god for those women. At first I thought that wet stuff was just dog slobber.

We go home and he continues to clean it up and it's bandaged and all covered in polysporin. He asks me if I'd be comfortable going back into her mouth to get things...I said, give me a few minutes before I answer that question.

I remember that trip home. Instructor Tim was guiding me, I was in shock, and as we get closer to home, I can feel Babs wagging and puffing. Ooo! This does not sit well with me. Rage, oh rage. I remember looking down at her and saying "You just took a chunk of my flesh, and you are happy?" Instructor Tim was talking all fast. "She's stressed. She's happy to be home. It's something she knows..." I was still mad. Mad mad mad. It took a long time before I could go into a dog's mouth without fear. My fingers tingled and involuntarily convulsed and received what felt like electric shocks from time to time because of the nerve damage that hound caused. Strangeley, my hand only started to feell normal after Peter had walked out the door with Babs.

I asked him if it's true that once dogs taste blood, they want more. He says that's a complete myth and not to worry about that. He's completely surprised that she did that.

Yeah, just like they were completely surprised that Willow chewed leashes and brushes and chalk and...

So we sat for a few minutes and then went to the vet's place and she practically ripped my arm off trying to say hi to another dog/go to the vet because she loves it there so much. We had to keep turning her around, and she'd pout
every time. "Pout pout pout I'm not being allowed to go in there. Mean mommy."

After that, we came back home and he left for the day, and I turned off my brain and did something else stupid. The friend who came by earlier and I took her on a walk down the bike path. Full of dogs and other wild things. And to top it all off, my friend convinced me to bring her into this rec centre she goes too. Yeesh. never go in there again. That was the weirdest conglommeration of weirdos I've ever met in my life. Babs licked one of them, I didn't catch her, and all I heard was this muttering, "I'm
not into that I'm not into that I'm not into that." I was like "woe sorry
ma'am." And she tried to eat so many chip crumbs. After some great fun, we took off out of there. And I went home dead tired.

Friday we went out and went up and recapped some stuff. My finger had swollen so much that it was painful to do practically anything with that hand, which is a bitch because with the dog on the left hand, I had to do everything with that hand. After some verbal and actual recapping of routes, he left for the weekend. I decided to take a book back to the library and go to the bank to get a cheque written, but more to take her for a walk. It went pretty well, but the screwups were mostly on my part. We got back home and rested, until I went to the walk-in clinic to get my finger looked at. It was infected! So infected that the doctor drew on my hand to show how far up the infection had gone, and said, "Come back in 48 hours to have it looked at again," Then he prescribed me antibiotics and because I couldn't get them that night, they sent me home with samples and told me to take double doses. Woe papa. So home I came, in shock.

Saturday we went to the pharmacy nearby and got the stuff. I love how people don't listen. I said, "give me a bag to put this in so I can have my hands free. He hands me this little stapled shut paper bag. Um, no chief, try again. So I go home, and later, we go to the phone answering place for a shift.

She has fans everywhere she goes. I can be taking her for a crap, and she'll have admirers. It's sure weird. and I'm still getting used to this spotlight. But ah it's fun.

It's fun, as long as you're not groggy, sick, and trying to take your dog for a poop. It's fun, as long as your dog isn't being an arse. It's different, that's for sure.

Sunday was fun. She was a devil and an angel all at once. I took her to the clinic so they could check on my hand. After waiting for like an hour and a half, they said, "ah it looks better." So I came back home and grabbed things I forgot, then took the bus to Steve's place, which she found absolutely flawlessly. Only error she made was going to the wrong door, but that's easily enough done. So we took the bus back to our old stomping grounds and had an ice cream at the boathouse. Oh dogs and ice cream. Everybody who wants a guide dog, get your ice cream in a dish, not a cone! She tried to help herself to ice cream, but who can blame her? So after five minutes of
"leave its", she calmed down. But I think I dripped some ice cream on her ear. Woops.

After we finished up, we went back to Steve's, and after sniffing the place out, she calmed right down and we had dinner. I fed her there too, Steve got to witness a whistle feed.

Late that night, I took my first cab with her, and the crankiest guy in the universe was a happy man. Babs, give me your powers of...whatever that is.

It's worth noting that he was happy, even though she tried to take a slurp of his pop! No, she succeeded in taking a slurp of his pop.

So Monday, in the morning, I had a lesson, which was a challenge. She was being silly, she likes to be silly around the lady who comes to teach me.

She also licked her coffee. The lady was not amused.

Then Monday afternoon, I decided we'll go to the Royal bank and pay off the part of my OSAP loan that's with them. So I do that. But the damn construction has messed up the beeping lights. So I got lost, and some stoners helped me get there. God the downtown is full of stoners now.

Actually, you got lost because you were woefully incompetent at the downtown area.

I came back from that and didn't do too much after that. Sheesh it's hot. Poor dog will pick up her cong, run with it, and then fall over pufffing. Glad the airconditioning is going in this weekend.

And today was the last day of aftercare. I bombed him with questions. And I do mean bomb. But the genius that he is, he expected that. So we do a couple corners that we messed up before, and of course, with him there, they go absolutely flawlessly. And we redid the university route. That was cool. I knew where I was going without having to know where I'm going in the tick tick sort of way. It was so fast and fluid and all that jazz.

We came back and Tim said goodbye and we had a good laugh over a few things. I don't think Babs realizes he's gone for good. Oh well. She's sleeping. It's so hot. Please let the night bring relief. Poor dog.

And that was the end of aftercare. Even though her time with me was short, it was eventful. There was her attending my neighbour's funeral, mooing very loudly at strange times. Aww Babs. She would never go near neighbour Cam at the end. I think she could smell death on him.

There was her eating a bar of soap out of my bathroom and chewing on one of those exfoliating glove thingies. That wasn't all she ate. She tried to make a meel out of a few other items, like bacon, stones off the road, noodles and bones dropped on the sidewalk outside a Chinese restaurant known to be visited by drunks, kleenex, sauce packets from takeout, whatever she could get her doggy jaws on. I remember when she got a wad of kleenex while I was waiting to cross the street, and an older British woman commented "What a disobedient guide dog!" It was hell. Every single walk was hell. I was constantly on high alert, and my corrections didn't work worth a shit!

There was the many times that I had to learn that a dog is not a cane with eyeballs, it has to poop, and you have to make allowances for that. Having her drop a plop in the TD bank was a good lesson. There's nothing like coming inside the lobby, being confused as to why my dog is sitting, and then hearing play by play commentary from a man behind me. "She's sitting...she's pooping! She's pooping!" Oh god. Thank god I had a bag. I still had to timidly walk up to the counter and say "Um, excuse me sir, but my guide dog, um, defecated in your lobby. I cleaned it up, but you might want to sanitize the area."

There was the buying of a gental leader for the pooch to curb the sniffing and eating, which CGDB didn't want me to do, but after the hand-chomping incident, I didn't care what they wanted. I was getting a goddamn gental leader, and it did do a good job.

There was the discovery of the oozing lump, which was pretty funny on its own. Funny, but sad. This lady from the CNIB came over, and found a very upset Carin. I had had a horrible day before, which involved slamming into every obstacle imaginable at painful speeds. I had left the TV on at night, and woke up wondering if my regular habit of leaving the TV on was what was screwing her up. I asked the lady from the CNIB, and she said no. Then I had her look at her eyes, wondering if they were stuck shut with goo and that's why she wasn't seing things. She said no. and Then I poked the lump which was now oozing and screamed "and what is this!" She stopped, looked at it, and agreed that that warranted concern. She wiped it with alcohol, which only caused it to bleed. We took Babs to the vet right away, and it was removed immediately.

This led to Babs wearing the cone on her head to prevent her from licking her stitches, which was funny, but sad again. At first, she slammed into everything in the house, but she soon learned how to walk around without hitting things. She even learned how to hold the bone with the cone! Now that's a feat. I woke up one morning to the sound of Babs growling. I had just met Stupidhead, and she was creeping me out, so I thought someone had broken in. Nope. It was just Babs holding onto the bone for dear life in the cone!

Then came the spawning of more lumps, and the multiple biopsies. She looked like quite the sight by the end. People would say "Oh what a beautiful...oh my lord what happened to her?" because she had shaved stitched up spots all over her.

Finally, when we got the news that wasn't good, then came the decision to send her back. I cried so hard, and the only thing Sue Hawkins could manage was, "Oh, have I thrown you a wabbly?" That puts it mildly. I cried, and cried, and cried, before they sent Peter to come get her.

I remember the day he arrived to take her back. I had built a wall between Babs and me. I couldn't feel anything for her. I did what had to be done, i.e. grooming, relieving, feeding, etc. but that was it. Then he showed up at the door. He said, "I need the harness, the leash, and her antibiotics. She was still on them for...what was it? Oh I think she had to have some after the surgery? I can't remember why she was on them, but she was. Those damn antibiotics that she spit out and I kept finding after she was long gone.

Crying, I gave him those things, plus her heartworm preventative and her bone. He asked me if I wanted to say goodbye, and I barely could. I gave her a hug and then handed over the leash. He took her for a pee, and I heard that old familiar snap of her trying to pull beyond what her leash would allow. I couldn't help but chuckle behind my tears as she left.

What an eventful eight weeks. I don't think Trixie's first eight weeks were so eventful. In our short time together, Babs and I visited Barb, where she got her little jaws on a dryer sheet, we went up to the university to work, did shifts at the place where I answered phones, and she watched me start to learn to swim.

But it was not to be. She was wreckless, and the vet worried about my safety with her. It was probably because she was so stressed out and distracted by the lumps spawning in her body that she couldn't do her job. If she had have stayed with me, she may have killed me, or herself, or both of us.

I won't even try to blame it all on her. I was not ready. I went to a retrain class, I hadn't had enough practice. I was as much at fault for our crappy walks as her, if not more. But it would have killed us, that's for sure.

But in those two short months she spent home with me, she taught me that I did in fact want a guide dog. The good stuff was so good that it sold me on guide dogs. But she also taught me what I needed to know to make sure that the next dog and I would make an awesome team. Babs, I guess you served your purpose.

It's funny how fast the doggy routines become ingrained. At the same time as I was overwhelmed, I always had bags and the food whistle. I would just do things or think of things as I walked. This automatic doing of certain things was a painful reminder that she was gone. I remember almost telling my cane "forward," stopping, crying a little as I once again realized that Babs wasn't there. On a funnier note, now that I have Trixie, I have caught myself telling one friend to come and another one to heel! Woops! Some things are too ingrained.

There are days that I think about calling the Ottawa school and asking how Babs is, but I have a feeling they wouldn't know. They told me that she had been placed with a stay at home mom with three kids, and they weren't keeping track of her medical progress. So they may not know if she's alive or dead. I'm so afraid to talk to those people again because they know I left on bad terms, and calling them would feel awkward. But I should try. I'll never know if I don't try.

So that is the Babs training journal in a nutshell. Hope you enjoyed the trip back in time. It was an interesting trip for me too. I hope it helps someone and isn't just a pile of blather to everyone but me and a couple of people who know me and happen to read the comet.

The Babs Journal: Day 18 (May 26, 2005)

Well it's over. It's all over. And I leave tomorrow. Scary eh? Ready or not, here I come.

Looks like we were heavy on the not ready side.

Today was fun. In the morning we were real weasels. We managed to take a walk near where we got our photos done. The reason? There was a chip wagon there. Getting chips means we wouldn't have to eat sandwiches. So after a pretty cool tandem walk, except for one point where my dog and I screwed up a left turn, we come back with the chips!

I must explain how one screws up a left turn. In Ottawa, you do left turns in the dumbest way possible. In order to make a 90-degree left turn, you have to make a 270-degree right turn! That's correct. You have to turn right and keep turning until you've made a left. That is the most disorienting way to make a left ever. Dad called it the square dance. He was pretty accurate.

Also our driver didn't show up, so Jane, not scary Jane, but another Jane, drove us to our walk spot.

there was a funny incident that happened with that. Margery and I went out to go in the van, and there was no driver. Margery asked if she should lay on the horn. I laughed so hard and said no, I'd go to the office and find someone. Just as I headed back in that direction to get someone, instructor Jane came out. Lay on the horn! Cute, but nope.

So anyway we get back and that was all cool. Then in the afternoon, we all waited around for Scary Jane to do the signing stuff. In the meantime Instructor Tim went over the reports we have to send back every month for the first six months.

Here I am again, because I have to point out something stupid there. We had to send monthly reports on how the dog was doing. That's not a bad idea except for one question. They actually ask that you go to a quiet street and urge your dog forward when a car is moving through to see what happens. They don't ask that you get a friend to do it, they ask that you make it as natural as possible! That's a little too natural! It's one thing to make a mistake and your dog does what they should, but to tempt fate on a weekly basis is pretty damn weird!

Then one by one we trickled in to Scary Jane's office, and I zipped by the office to pick up the stuff I bought. Then I went and signed with scary Jane. And then I got my qualification package! Heehe! She told me our team number, but I forget, I was just so gitty that we were legal now. I got my ID card, the medallians for the work and play collars, and did I say ID card? Yeah. So I left. I asked Sue about the lump. She says it's likely just a fat lump and to keep an eye on it. So they're not ignoring it.

That would be incorrect, they're sweeping it under the rug. they want you to think they're dealing with it. Young dogs don't get fat lumps. That is nothing but a lie!

She also wrote me a letter for ODSP if they give me any trouble.

We hung out in the lounge, and then I took Babs out and she pooped, and I could tell. Yea!

Oh we gave instructor Tim his gift too, which was cool, and he loved it.

So after a bit of lounging around, he talked to us about our aftercare stuff and what to do when we get home, and then we started having appetizers. Then we had this big steak dinner and all the staff came. We sat around and Scary Jane, Sue and Tim took turns speaking. Then after a while I took her out, groomed her, then we all sat on the patio, all except Margery, who seemed completely dog tired. She got a phone call and when we said it was for her, she was like "oh god." So we sat out there. But it was geting cold.

Anka's hillarious. Whenever Sharon talks, Anka imitates her by squiggling up her nose and talking in a high voice. She imitated me once. My dog was sniffing, and I said, "Oh shniff shniff shniff" the way I do. Next thing I hear Anka going, "oh shniff shniff shniff." I almost doubled over laughing. But the dogs listen to her. Once, Babs, Willow and Charity got in a little romp and we were laughing and trying to control them, and Anka walked up and said, "stop!" That's all she had to say. All the dogs stopped, parted, and it was over. Anka, give me some of that! I'll miss her, but at least I have her email address.

I forgot to mention that when she broke up the doggy melee, she grabbed Babs's leash and said "Yes. You do have the right dog!" I guess she didn't want another Willow/Charity swap.

Then we came in and I almost fell asleep in the lounge. By tomorrow at this time I'll be at mom and dad's place. Wow, I can't believe how fast it has all gone.

Funny story time! I came back from washing this one's dish and found a surprise. I left the closet door open, woops, and I wasn't really thinking about it because all that was in there was my cane and a closed garbage bag. But I forgot about the cong I saw in there. Well I came back and opened the door and heard this growl coming from inside. I was so scared, I stopped in my tracks and looked down, and there was Babs, with a cong firmly clasped in her jaws.

I took it from her because I wasn't sure it was a cong. It was after all, but holy crap she wouldn't let it go. I have a couple congs waiting for her at home. Thank you to other guide dog handlers who gave me quite a starting pack of good stuff!

So today was a slow day, but lots happened on it. Now I just have to finish packing and that's it. Gotta remember to grab my card reader from the grooming room and some food and her dish. Yeesh I am so happy mom and dad are driving me home. Eeks.

Well I'm tired. Should crash. This wasn't much of an update...maybe I'll elaborate when I'm mmore awake.

The Babs Journal: Day 17 (May 25, 2005)

I feel better today. I slept really really deep last night, even slept in a wee bit.

Got up, took this one out, she peed, took her back in, fed her, took her out again and she peed, but she didn't poop. I was nervous maybe I'd just missed it. Came back, felt sick. Lay down and didn't have a shower. Came to breakfast, and breakfast looked raunchy. Toast with a slice of processed cheese on it and butter. That didn't look good to a queezy stomach. I didn't really touch it, just drank the juice. I went back to the room and lay down again.

Margery wasn't feeling too good, and I think Sharon wasn't feeling her best either. I lay down and then I got Babs up, took her out, she just peed again. I'm like gees am I missing it? Then I came in, did obedience and then brought her out to the van.

We went to Bayshore mall. Wow that was cool. Intense, but cool. We deaked and weaved through obstacles and went through stores. I hit one thing, sorta brushed it, but other than that, nope. We took the coolest elevator. It was all glass, and it would say things like, door is opening, door is closing, going down, second flor. It was like in the movies. So we did that and then we took a couple escalators. Yep she can do it. It's a little nerve-wracking, but she did it quite well.

Instructor Tim locked his keys in the car, woops, so he didn't have kibble for the dogs as rewards for doing the escalator. So I just told her how awesome she was.

Then Margery went and did the mall zooming and I just drank a pop. I had two people, complete strangers come and talk to me about my dog. Yep yep, the thing about the dog being an ice-breaker is working. Haha. Two kids were so sad that they couldn't pet her. I would have taken the harness off, but I was a little nervous that she might go a little loopy in the mall. So I said no and thanked them for asking.

Came back here and didn't touch the sandwich. But we got Anka's card signed. The rest of the class liked it. So I picked a good card.

Did I mention that when we came back to the school I took her out for a busy and she finally pooped? Yeah! Success! I have to admit, mine did the whole leash busy flawlessly. It's nice to have a better day. It's amazing what your frame of mind is like when you're tired compared to well-rested. I still have to groom this one. And start packing. Packing! Tomorrow morning is our last walk. The last walk before all the signing and handing over of lunies. They have us pay a buck to the school so it's some kind of business deal. I don't understand it, but there it is.

I think tonight is free and then tomorrow night is grad, and then we go home! Have to get a hold of mom and dad and see when they're coming. yeesh! Can't believe it. I'll write later. We're going out to do traffic islands, whatever they are...they're making Sharon nervous, so I should be terrified.

Well traffic islands are a little nerve-wracking, I don't think I'd do them until I absolutely have to. They're in this place where there's a turning lane. So since there's a lane like that, they have an island in the middle where pedestrians can stand and then go when it's safe again. So you cross, treat it like an upcurb, go a wee bit in the direction away from the traffic, and then go again when it's safe. And get to either another island or an up-curb. So did that, went into Canadian Tire, and did turnstyles! That's a bit of an art, but not bad. Then we went to Dairy Queen...and I had the brownie batter blizard. Mmm...blizard. It was good, but I was very full, and thus had trouble eating supper.

We gave Anka her thing. She was so so so surprised and touched. It was the best. She said she didn't want to open the coffee because she wanted to keep it to remind her of us. We all managed to sign the instructor Tim card.

Oh yeah, last night we found out that we're not supposed to buy things for individual staff, they'd rather we just give to the centre. Woops, a little late on that one. But no going back now. It makes me a little mad. Why can't we give to who we damn well please? And after all the work they do, they deserve some rewards.

You have the right to be a lot more mad than a little. That was another red flag.

So after dinner, I came back and Babs was in a real playful mood. I took her out and she pooped again and then I brought her back and we played a game of let's pin Carin down and lick her face off. God she was funny. I gave her her bone too and she gnawed the ever-loving hell out of it. Then we both crashed for a while and then I came out and talked to Sharon. She gave me her address and the pet care number. I'm debating whether I'll put her on pet care, it's a pet health insurance. On the one hand, it would insure that I have serious nutty vet bills covered and not have to worry about whether the CNIB's fund is alive, but on the other hand, it's 40 bucks a month, and the guide dog allowance is only 64 bucks a month...doesn't allow me to save for annual checkups and things the insurance won't cover. I guess what I decide will depend on what that lump is on Babs. I'm going to Sue Hawkins and asking her point blank, "What in the hell is that lump? I want an answer before I leave with this dog."

So tomorrow morning we go on our last walk. Then after, we wait to sign. Then after that, we go over some things in the qualification packages and instructor Tim tells us what to do when we go home. We get our medallians to put on our work and play collars. Way cool. Then it's grad night. Woe papa. Then it's pack like a mo fo. So if I don't round up the last two days until I get home, you'll know why.

The Babs Journal: Day 16 (May 24, 2005)

Long day, am tired and low and lacking in confidence. Went out in the morning with her, exhausted, stayed up too late. missed her peeing. Went out again, caught some of her poop but not all of it. Didn't even feel her back do that thing. How am I going to get this right by Friday? When on long leash to busy, can't reach her easily to touch her back, but short leash is too close for her. So must figure out how to do it on long leash.

Came back inside and we did have a delicious breakfast. I ate it so fast. Then I did my laundry..had to do it all in one load. Was tired, sat and played with her for a little while, am worried she doesn't really like me, doesn't like to put leash on, tries to get away, does she trust me? Do I trust her? Why didn't this low point hit sooner?

Well, you were on your way here, that's for sure.

Legs hurt, very stiff. Went out on walk, couldn't focus. Legs cramped up, had to shorten walk, was sad. Came back to check on clothes. Dryer didn't dry them. Tried again. Found Margery's bra in the laundry room so brought it to her. Played with Amy, brought mine in and they played together, ha ha. Babs thinks she's the alpha dog. She jumped on Amy and made like she was trying to hump her. She also stole Amy's bone and tried to drink her water.

So that's why now my dog is the humpee. It's revenge!

I think I was covered in golden retriever hair. Anyway went out again, oh in the morning we went through a congested market and the dogs had to focus. I was having a hard enough time focusing, let alone my dog.

In the afternoon we did country walk, which was easier than I expected. Basically it's walking down a country road with no curbs on either side, just shoulders and ditches. It was still stressful, but not as stressful as I remember suburban walks being. So that was this afternoon. Am supremely bagged now. Bagged times 10.

Came back, took her out for a something, still no good at telling what I've got. Fed her, and took her out again, found some poop I missed from before so picked up. Damn it. Got our centenal heartworm/flee/tic control pills that I'm to give her on June first and once every month until they're gone...and then get them again in the spring I guess. Was hard to focus on vet because bagged. Couldn't ask about lump because she was in too much of a hurry. Damn it. Want answer soon.

Left for dinner, was exhausted, feeling low. Dog was being sorta bad, was wondering if I was giving enough praise. Feeling scared to leave and sick of people bitching about the weather and the sandwiches. A. at least it's still pretty damn good weather considering what it could be, and b. yeah sandwiches suck, but at least someone's cooking for us. Please, it could be worse. We could have to train *and* make our lunches. But I know it's just their way of dealing with being tired, missing their families, and we're all getting on each other's nerves. But part of me is afraid to leave. part of me is just terrified. What if I don't trust her? I still catch myself doing silly things because I don't trust her yet.

Went out for dinner, ate, was good, took Babs to bathroom stall. Was an art. Even with being a disabled bathroom stall, was interesting holding a sniffing dog and fighting with the door.

Had the first nitwit try and pet my dog and succeed in harnesss, ran off before I could tell him off. Arg.

Came out from restaurant, went to place for night walk. Was terrified. Why am I still losing confidence? Terrified of messing up. Sue was there too. I dropped the handle once and asked if I crossed ok cause she freaked me out cause the up curb was huge. Rest of the walk went well, except my legs are sore. Somebody just wheel me around when I get home, ha ha. Pain pain pain! Sue says we're doing well. Came back here exhausted. dryer still didn't work right. Super arg. Dogs seem exhausted. I'm exhausted. Should take pills and crash before I fall asleep where I sit. Bagged. Bagged and then some.

The Babs Journal: Day 15 (May 23, 2005)

Today was interesting so far. Went out on individual walks. Sorta felt more comfortable. I always feel a wee bit nervous when I start off, but we seem to fall into place.

Or so you led yourself to believe.

Had one crossing where she danced so we were facing into the middle of the intersection, gotta get used to detecting that.

that would be the signal to instructor Tim to help me get used to that! Knowing you're going home in 4 days and are having trouble aligning is not a safe plan. But he would just help me fix it by turning me the right way, but it was always rushed.

Then I took her out after the walk and she peed and I could tell she peed. I'm getting better at that. Oh and I actually picked up her poop. Guess I missed some...but I didn't step in any, and I knew she pooped! Yee ha! This is getting easier.

Poor Margery, Amy had an accident in her room. She seems very frazzle fried, poor woman. Everyone's in a low mood today. Tim and Sharon and Margery are now all taking their dogs out into this grassy little run because they thought they'd go better. They all did poop I guess. Think that's all that's happened so far.

Today I speak to Babs' puppy walkers! Heehee! chinese food tonight...mmm...chinese.

I have these mixed feelings. I'm excited to be done, but I'm afraid to go home. Everybody else is really anxious to get home. Tim's really super lonely and pessimistic, Sharon's counting the days and celebrating. I'm just nervous. Getting a little better considering I can figure out what she's doing now...but still nervous.

Now we're going to group free run the dogs. This should be interesting to watch. They wanna play. I guess I should get there.

Well that was fun...did a whole bunch of group obedience, and threw in a whole bunch of distractions, things like, oh, say, Buddy the kennel cat coming by, being teased with toys, kibble, each other, but they misbehaved, and we were able to hold onto them. Cruel tricks on the dogs.

No. That should have been going on every damn day.

Then we let them loose. They had great amounts of fun...and out in the damn paddock, I stepped in poop! What is with my attraction to poop? Instructor Tim had to clean my shoe.

I don't know what's with Babs. She has her nose pressed to the door and won't come when I sit on the floor and call her. I worry sometimes that she hasn't bonded with me...na. It's probably just cause she's tired from the free run. That must be it.

Go with your gut, past self! And what were you smoking that a nose pressed to the door is a sign of being tired? That's a sign of the dog wanting to go after something!

Crap! It's 5:30 that I have my call. So I have to get her all fed and pooped before then. And I still have to groom her today. Today's just been chaotic. Fun though.

My dog escaped. I opened the door and she had her nose pressed to it and then ran out. I got her back though.

What did I say? What did I say? Hahahahaha!

Then I went to find instructor Tim to call my puppy walkers, and found out Margery got lost outside. Ok, you walk out the door and you make a slight right and there's a fense. Follow the fense and you'll find a gate. Open it, take your dog into the grassy poop pen, find the gate again, turn around and go back and you'll find the door. Not Margery. She ended up by kennels and who knows where else? oh dear dear. She was so scared she said "piss on it, I'm not using the grassy poop pen...I'm using the other run." Poor woman is just shaken to the core. Poor poor woman.

Well anyway I talked to my puppy walkers, and I was so nervous. I was trying to think of things to ask her..and the only thing I could think of was what was Babs like as a puppy and what toys did she like? She likes congs apparently, and was a real chewer. She interrogated me though. "What job do you do? Will you be taking her? What children will you see? Where do you live? Send me pictures! I will be coming for a visit, expect me..." My god I felt like I was being screened for adoption. I was so nervous that the call didn't last long. Then I ran Babs out to busy and got in the van and we went for Chinese.

Poor Margery was so quiet I just wanted to take her aside and give her a hug and say it's alright, we all get lost sometimes. Hell leaving the office after the call I thought I was going to get lost in the maze of doors. But I found the right one thank god.

Babs was so dead to the world after her free run that when I shook the leash, she wouldn't budge. Eventually I got her up.

Dinner was yummy. The only funny thing that happened was I bent down to see what Babs was doing, and got this big hand in my hair. I'm like Margery, I'm not Amy. We all had a good laugh, including Margery.

After, we came back and Tim read over the qualification packages. I hope all that stuff is on disk. Apparently a lot is. One thing that pisses me off is they assumed before that someone would be around to fill out your monthly report forms with you that you send back for the first six months. Um, dude? Even if I had tons of sighted friends around, who's going to have time to sit and help me answer 20 questions once a month? Not really anybody. Oh well if it's not on disk I'm sure they'll find a way. And the sheets on access rights for guide dogs were in print. Ok there guys. Sure I can scan them, but why not just put them on the disk? Hello! Oh well we'll see when I get the disk and find out what's on it.

Then I bought a beany buddy for my neighbour. So that's done. Then Sharon and I got talking. She's funny. I was really starting to think she didn't like me because there were a lot of bitter comments flying around about what we were eating, how many days were left, I was just like gees am I that annoying? I just figured I'd lay low.

Gotta remember to tell fund raising Steve tomorrow that mom and dad are willing to empty the Walmart guide dog.

Margery's so funny. In describing what Amy was doing in the poop run, she said, "Oh, she'd jerk off to the left and jerk off to the right." We were having trouble not going into spasms of laughter. I think we did rather well.

I think that's about it. I'm tired. I should sleep. It's late. Babs is snoring like a buzz saw.

The Babs Journal: Day 14 (May 22, 2005)

Well not much else happened yesterday except I found another lump on her other side. I'm wondering if she's biting herself. She licks a lot...who knows?

Upon reading that, I don't know what ever happened to that second lump. I don't remember her having lumps, plural, until after the first lump exploded when it was being removed and then spawning began. But I don't remember what the other oddity turned out to be.

After almost falling asleep in the lounge again after talking to Sharon for a little while and having student Tim thank me profusely for letting him leave the centre, oh and talking to a friend and my parents on the phone, I took Babs out for her last free busy. Sniff sniff.

I slept in this morning...not long though, I was awakened by a groaning moaning licking playing dog. She must have been supremely confused because usually I put my shoes on and put her leash on her and we go. Well this morning I have to grab a bag, I put my coat on, I was kind of slow, I grabbed the food whistle so I'd have it, etc. I took her down, and put on these gynormo rubber boots that I could swim in to go out into the busy run. This is so if you step in doggy dung, you don't end up tracking it all over the wild blue yonder. I put her in long leash when we got outside and said "busy busy."

Amy was out in the other run so I don't think she did anything. Maybe a pee. I don't know. I stood out there for a while. Then I brought her back here which confused her as well, left and got her food and I sure had to go. Then I brought her food back and she was as good as gold. Then I took her out for another attempt at busy, don't know, maybe she peed. I'm not good at this yet. It's hard because on long leash I have a hard time reaching her back without cramping her space. You're supposed to put your hand on her back so you can feel which way she's got it pointing to know if it's pee or poop. I don't know if she did anything. She's awfully quiet, which leads me to believe she did something. I wish someone was watching. Really really wish someone was.

I have to remember to take the rubbers off as soon as we step in the door, because I think I tracked something half way across the grooming room. Sorry buds.

After we did that, she tried to visit Anka. I still had my shoes in my hand and so couldn't restrain her. She went straight for the lounge. Fulll speed.

Hey dumbnird. Put your shoes on before you start walking.

Anka doesn't like the way Tim holds Willow's leash to prevent her from chewing it. She says, "If I was your dog, I'd bite you." Crazy funny woman.

Breakfast is at 8:30 this morning. Did I mention the game she played on her last free busy? Pop her head up, I try to put a leash on it, and then she pops it back down. Oh well , no matter, there are no more free busies now. And I mentioned the leash bone game right? I pick up the leash, she picks up her bone. Silly girl, bone is going to go in a drawer when she goes on the leash. She seems so calm...did she busy? I don't think so..maybe pee. I took her out two more times, no poop that I can detect anyway. But apparently none of the dogs wanna poop yet. I guess they have to wait this long so the dogs will be ok with it.

Na, we could have done this before.

The grooming room stinks. I swear someone tracked in poop. Icky. Poopy boots.

I gave my sheets to Anka. She's funny, making innuendos that student Tim and I are going out. He's old enough to be my dad. hell he has a 17-year-old son for christ's sake. I just want to give him a change of scenery like I'm getting. Try to do something nice and people get all childish.

Pleas don't poop in the car, Babs or Willow. Please!

I dropped my pj's in her water dish. Arg. Scared the crap out of me because I thought she pissed all over them. Doesn't look like it though, even her food whistle got wet. Oops.

Ok so after repeatedly taking her out for a poop, she wouldn't poop all morning. My parents show up and I go out to meet them. Then I get student Tim and then I bring Babs in. Everything goes well. We take her out and we all go for lunch. That goes well, but it is a bit exhausting. Just to think of everything and keep her from licking things, etc. Dad wanted to go into this candle shop full of narrow aisles and breakables. Just the thought of it made me want to fall over with exhaustion. Thank god mom sensed it, because I didn't have enough courage to say no.

Welcome to guide dog life. At first, it's one hell of a lot of work. I pity anyone who runs headlong into a denial of access issue when they're newbs. That's just too much to deal with.

And keep in mind that when we were out on this excursion, she only had the body piece of the harness on, no handle. So, there was no guide work she could do.

That was also dumb. WE either can leave the campus with the dog as a guide or we can only leave the campus without the dog. None of this in between bullshit.

Mom and dad took pictures of her. Yea. Then we brought our dogs back to see if they'd do anything. Well mine pooped, and I stepped in it! Yup! Planted the heel of my rubber right in it. Squish! I tell Anka and she cleans the boots. I didn't feel anything! It happened so fast. But it appears my dog is the only one to poop thus far. But it had to be my dog's poop because we ran into Heather the kennel lady who said there were some left over poops out there from last night that she was cleaning up, which meant there was none left to step in.

We go back out and go and get the thank you cards and the few little things I wanted, and mom bought me a book. Yea I have something else to read. We came back and took her out and...on turning around, planted my boot in more busy poop. Damn it! I don't know if it was leftovers from the last busy, but yuck! It's really hard to give your dog lots of praise for going busy when you're gagging at poop on the heel of your rubber and cursing yourself for stepping in it. I managed to get a bunch of it off with the bag in my hand but there's still some on there. I don't have the heart to tell Anka again. Maybe the kennel people will see it. I'll just use another pair and warn Sharon about the poop pair.

Or you could always clean it yourself, you lazy bum. Do you think you're too good to touch poop? If you do, well, you've got a lot of learnin' to do.

So poop and scoop day 1 ain't going so well. Well in some ways it is cause my dog's the only one that went crap. Everyone else is waiting for theirs to burst. I fed her and took her out and then flopped over, tired. She's tired.

I went to supper and she was a royal devil, creeping around under the table. I wasn't too hungry because mom and ddad stopped at Timmy Ho's. Oh well. It was a hard goodbye when mom and dad left. The dog was sniffing like hell cause someone came to visit Sharon who had a guide dog. I guess everybody but Sharon went out for lunch. Poor Sharon, left to eat a sandwich.

What else happened? Oh Margery we notice is saying commands you only say in harness while the poor beast is on leash. Oh dear. Don't know if we should tell instructor Tim so he can catch her at it. Maybe we should because he was very clear about not using those commands while the poor thing was on leash.

Oh yeah, this morning while I groomed Babs, she actually lay down. I tried that to relax her hoping she'd go poop. I guess we all tried that and no go.

That's about it. My baby is flopped out. She's snoring. I still have to make my bed, I still have to put everything away. I'll have to do my laundry tomorrow because I'm too damn tired to do it tonight.

Ha ha ha ha ha I warned you that wasn't a smart plan.

Mom and dad think I've lost wait. The walking's making me all fit and stuff I guess. Did I write about the dogfood aisle? When we went to the grocery store to get a few things, we ended up in the dogfood aisle. Poor thing was going nuts. Licking her lips, sniffing, going looloo. We left the aisle pronto.

Am tired. napped for a while. Should pee and take dog for a pee. Ber it's cold. Ber ber ber!

Fell asleep so didn't get to make phone calls. Feel really bad about that. I promised at least one person I'd call them, and well damn it, I missed them.