Shape Up or Ship Out

I'm tired of waiting for Lu to have time to enter my stories into cyberspace, so I'm going to take matters into my own paws. After all, I am a wonder dog.

Where to begin, hmmmm? I think I'll start with my evaluation. Way back in December, I went to stay with N., the foster home coordinator for Helping Paws. I was supposed to be evaluated, but I thought it was a vacation! I met her gorgeous black labs, and her great cats, and I thought I'd died and gone to doggy heaven! All these great playmates, new smells, new people (I love new people best!). And then, horror of horrors, a crate! And I had to go in it, and stay, and not whine, or bark, or chase cats, or walk up to any human for scritches. How humiliating. I let everyone know how abused I felt - and they weren't pleased. See, service dogs are supposed to have great crate behavior. I say, how can I be of service if I'm in the crate?

The good news is (as everyone would expect), I'm fabulous at my service dog skills. I just have a TINY issue with a few LITTLE things. I have a really great really reliable recall - when I want to. I can be calm when people come to the door, but it's just so much more fun to show them how much I really love them. N. told me barreling in to folks isn't fun for the people - and could even be dangerous. Needless to say, Lu has a lot to answer for. She better find a way to make this crate and barrel stuff palatable or I may be looking at a career change. She better shape up or ship out, I say. There's no way that I'm gonna have a career change. That's HP's nice way of phrasing Service Dog Flunkie!