New Career: Service Dog for the Senile (need I say gdg?)
Day off! Hallelujah! I hop out of bed this morning, (well, ok, crawl out moaning and groaning while I pry my eyes open) and realize I do not have to get "dressed" for work today. My old, soft jeans lay tossed across a chair where I ditched them last night. I sit on the edge of the chair and drag the jeans up over my legs. A sock pops out of one side. Aha! Gotcha! When I first get up I don't have my glasses on. So its a good thing when socks, combs, quarters or whatever that fall out of my jeans land right in front of my face. With the jeans only half way up my legs, and the sock just about 5 inches out of my longest stretch, (not very flexible at the best of times, especially right out of bed), I say, "Indy, fetch". He does and hands it to me. After putting on the sock, I realize that its mate had not popped out of the other side. Standing up to fasten my jeans, I start turning in circles to look for the renegade hosiery. (Still no glasses on.) After about four fruitless turns, I start grabbing piled up clothes off of the chair and slinging them out behind me, thinking the sock may have gotten intermingled with the other stuff. Cussin' and fussin' I feel a nudge right on my buttocks. I squeal, leap in the air and spin around. Indy has found the other sock and is trying to get my attention. He delivers it to me then lies down in front of me with his head cocked waiting to see what else I might do to entertain him. "Good dog, but I'm going to put my glasses on right now so you don't have to bring my toothbrush to me." So I reach over to the nightstand and slap around some. Hmmm..... no glasses. This is really strange, I never, ever put my glasses anywhere else. I guess I knocked them off when I put my book down last night. I get down painfully on my knees and start to grope under the bed, when again that rude nudge into my personal space. I flop down on my butt and turn my head. Indy now has my glasses in his mouth holding them out towards me very patiently. When I take them from him I am mesmerized. There is not a scratch, bent arm, heck they are not even wet!
That does it, I am not entering the old folks home without Indy. Did I ever mention I love this dog?:D:D:D
The point of this whole story, is that I believe labs come with almost as much natural desire to serve as they do to retrieve. What think you?