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He behaved like an angel. Not a paw out of place.
Earlier that morning, green smog had periodically filled the room from his cat food smelling flatulence. He had only taken a nibble of a client’s ham roll which was offered to him and he demanded attention from only two of the teaching staff as he commanded them to keep stroking him with a swift tap of his paw on their hands. Sometimes, non-royals needed a little prompting when it came to address such regal beings, but Munch did not mind doing that. Needs must and all of that.
With all this behaviour escalating before the cameraman arrived, I began to worry that he may have one of his more animated days, where it seemed every moment of the day was Oscar award worthy. I crossed everything that he would behave and pretend that he was a well-behaved guide dog and the inner impish clown would remain dormant until filming was over. A quick promise of a nice free run after work here and a threat of no more treat that day there, and it appeared that he was weighing up the pros and cons of behaving as I put my case across.
I need not have worried as when the guide dog PR arrived first, he quickly identified her as one of the Blue Team. Munch, along with many other guide dogs, can identify geode dog staff a mile away. Not only are they dog lovers who must have a lovely hint of Eau de Canine about them, but they also all wear blue works clothes that Munch loves and respects. He may not listen to the non-blue team members in life, but he certainly acts in his best behaviour for these, showing what a good boy, he is. His personality transplant needs to be seen to be believed.
Laying down sweetly on the floor, he quietly snoozed away as we waited for the others to show up as we chatted away about what questions we would be asked. Even when they entered the room, he only got up for the briefest of moment to have a sniff of the dog loving cameraman and the interviewer. He then returned to his bed for a snooze as everyone prepared. I was beginning to get worried that he had remained still all this time and genuinely thought that he may have ben coming down with something as this was not his natural way of being.
Despite making the cameraman do all the work, moving around his snoozy body instead of him moving and looking the opposite direction that we wanted him to, he behaved well. Gracefully gliding down the corridor towards the camera, he didn’t put a paw wrong. As they all fell deeper in love with this perfect guide dog, I think they thought my claims of his mischievous ways we talked about earlier were all lies. His hypnotic innocent eyes drew them all into his angelic ways and made the room fill with “ooohs and ahhhs”. The Munch magic never failed.
I, on the other hand let the side down. Here he was, acting all professional and there I was acting all amateur. We filmed in both Welsh and English and I have a feeling I made up a third language along the way which I suppose could be classed as Martian. I went into my automatic divergent way of thinking when asked questions and gave answers that were not on the same planet let alone the same topic. I avoided all the intelligent sounding information that I had planned in my head and spoke about how to find cheese in a supermarket when blind. Finally, sentence structures went out of the window and I appeared to encourage the “Uuum’s” and “You knows” out of my hesitant mouth with my conductor like hands that were rotating through the air. I could sense Munch’s amusing impatience with me.
I think the moral of this story that I learnt was never to judge another’s capabilities when I cannot do better myself. I take back all the eye rolls I have ever given you Munch and accept all of the exasperated sighs that I know you will direct to me over our life together. I am ready for you to teach me your version of socially acceptable behaviour your Heiness. What could possibly go wrong?

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