Wow. I was out of it when I finished my last post, because I forgot all the dog stuff that I wanted to talk about. So here’s a post all about Trix and the past few days. It’ll be small because it would have fit nicely in the bigger post, but oh well.
I love how she just settles in at mom and dad’s. If she’s tired, she just goes to one of the beds we have set out for her. Mom and dad just think she’s so cool.
I was a bit worried about whether she’d behave at the service because when I met my sister in Toronto so we could go the rest of the way together, she was acting like a little bum! I think she was bad because she really had to get to the doggy john, and that was keeping her from thinking straight. But that didn’t stop me from having nightmares. I dreamed that when we stopped to put roses on grandma’s grave, Trixie took a wiz. I dreamed she sniffed too many people. I dreamed she wouldn’t follow. I dreamed every possible bad scenario, including one where Jill and Paxol were there, and Paxol was behaving far better than Trixie, and everybody, including Jill, wondered why I had such a poorly-behaved guide dog. I don’t understand why, in that dream, Paxol was pulling Jill in a wheelchair. But there it is.
Anyway, all that dreaming wasn’t necessary. Trixie behaved absolutely beautifully. She followed mom perfectly, which was great, since services don’t leave a lot of room for talking to confirm that I was following the right person. She was super careful of all the people, She was super awesome. She stood and did not even think of sniffing all the roses that people were setting down. Everybody thought she looked absolutely beautiful.
there was one pet peeve, har har, I had that virtually everyone did. Everyone seemed to offer their sympathies to the dog as well, petting her head. Arg! In most circumstances, I don’t think twice about telling them to stop, but this is a funeral! But I also didn’t want them to turn her into an attention-seeking nut at the funeral. So, I think I reached a good compromise. When they started petting her, I would take their hand and squeeze it and say something like “thanks for coming.” That would a. stop the petting, and b. not make me look like a jerk. But god a lot of people tried to pet Trixie, and seldom was there a person who restrained themselves. There were a few, and I thanked them profusely.
Trixie got to do something that I never get to do with her. She got to free run around mom and dad’s huge yard! It isn’t fensed, but it’s huge, and we were all out there. God she had fun. She ran and ran and ran and sniffed. I don’t know what it is about mom’s grass and flowers, but Trixie thinks they’re extra special.
I think that’s about it. I said it was going to be short. It sure was.