A Panini Thief? Where?

Tags

Animals, Dog, Foodie, Guide Dog, Humour, Labradoodle, Sharing

“Well, his official name is Minster as he was sponsored by Lincoln Minster Prep school, but I have nicknamed him Munch”, joked the trainer that had brought this beautiful hairy soul into my life. It wasn’t long before I knew why his nickname had come about.

Led by a typical Labrador stomach, Munch cruised through life hoovering up unwanted food debris with utter dedication to this life path that he had chosen. One of the advantages of being a guide dog was that he could go places that other dogs were not allowed. Working alongside his maid in different schools around the area meant that he had a lot of ground to selflessly cover in relation to removal of food waste. Not a break or dinner time went past that this hard-working soul was not on high alert for removing any food-based slip hazards that the two legged less hairy race could slip on. No corner remained unexplored on his shift.

Just the other day he was faced with preventing an urgent food spillage that was about to happen right before his eyes. As his maid was taking him through the reception area of a school, he spotted a potential health and safety hazard about to occur on his patch. Being the ever-vigilant hero that he is, he knew he had little time and had to act fast. Prevention was always better than cure, so he stepped up to the mark without a second thought for his safety. There in front of him dangling at face height was a chicken tikka panini in a careless hand. Knowing the damage that such a spillage could cause on the carpeted floor he sprang into action and put his own safety on the line. Saving the school cleaner a messy clean-up, he did what any decent citizen would have done and went in for the chomp.

Rescuing the whole panini in his mouth, he stood with pride showing off his heroic skills. The gasps of the astonished people all around him was obviously a shared appreciation of his bravery wasn’t it? As he stood with half of the panini poking lengthways out of his mouth, he pondered how he was going to get the whole lot in his mouth at record speed. It was in that moment that everything changed. Out of nowhere, the cruel hand of the maid came around to remove the mid-air panini part out of his mouth for some strange reason. There he stood, the top food spillage preventor around, being relieved of his duties. How could this be happening?

As he quickly ate the remaining of the chicken tikka panini that was safe in his mouth, he heard a lot of commotion from the two legged less hairy race. The maid was saying sorry a million times for some strange reason and there was a lot of giggling going on around him. As the maid offered to buy the pupil a new panini, he stood in utter amazement that nobody had stopped to thank him. After all those years of perfecting his cleaning up skills, nobody could see that he was just being of service the best he could. What had the world come too when a top dog is no longer celebrated? The mind boggles.

Entering the office in reception a few moments later, he received the standing ovation that he rightly deserved as the three receptionists laughed at his little show. With his helicopter like tail rotating in excitement, he allowed the ladies to come and stroke him. The maid was still rambling on about some “little monkey” that she knew but he did not know what she meant. A quick sniff in the bin under one of the receptionist’s desks gave the ladies in the office the all clear from any potential food disasters. Regardless of the maid carrying on about being embarrassed by that little monkey that she kept harping on about, he went straight back into his professional role. He was not a quitter.

Arriving back in their counselling room with a full belly and job satisfaction, he drank two bowls full of water and settled down for the afternoon. The lack of appreciation from the maid filled him with disappointment. He decided to put her in the doghouse and give her the cold shoulder for the remainder of the day. Withdrawing his love for her he made her beg for his forgiveness to get back in his good books. He is sure he heard her saying something about there being a panini thief around, but he couldn’t be sure. He needed a rest before he had to go and tackle any more crime and prevention.

If you ever need a food spillage expert to come to your area for a major clean-up operation, just give Munch a call. He knows you will appreciate him more than his maid does.

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Confessions Of An Eye Rolling Enthuisiast

Tags

Animals, Dog, Drama King, Eye Rolling, Guide Dog, Humour, Labradoodle

To my fellow eye rollers, I am writing this post on your behalf to educate the static eye gang on why the art of eye rolling should be pursued. Now, if we were having this conversation around 60 years ago, us eye rolling enthusiasts may have been called flirts due to the fact that our dramatic eyes were a sign of flirtation, but I can assure you that my eye rolling is usually due to another reason. Well, if there happens to be a nice-looking Labrador in the vicinity (especially light-coloured males), my eyes may do some old-fashioned rolling. In normal circumstances however, my eye rolls are just a visible by-product of wearing my emotions on my adorable face.

Many two legged less hairy beings (aka humans) believe that us dogs do not roll our eyes but let me assure we do. Admittedly, my eye rolling behaviour was non existent before I moved into my maid’s house, but the eye rolls soon began when I realized what I was expected to put up with. After my guide dog graduation in my bright new harness, I was told that I was ready to be a fully working dog. Nobody told me how hard the work was though. I mean, I sometimes must even work up to 2 hours a day in harness. I know what you are thinking, how do I cope? This is where the eye rolling talent comes in as I can let all those around me know that I am not impressed. To be fair, the maid cannot see me rolling my eyes, so I am extra thoughtful to her and just give her loud sighs.

Here are a few situations that you may see me roll my eyes in protest and I know that you will feel my pain and fully support my visual display of distain.

1. When the maid wants me to get out of bed before 7am for her to take me for a walk (which means working).
If, however, one of my favourite dog walkers comes to take me out for a nice walk and free run, I am totally fine with that.

2. If I must go out walking in the rain.
Swimming in lakes and rivers is totally fine with me but not rain.

3. If the maid tells me off for eating Angus’s cat food.
If she wants me to work for her, she must understand I need fuel to function at such high levels that I do.

4. When the maid refuses to go and retrieve the ball that she has thrown when we are playing catch.
I will maybe retrieve the ball for the first three times and take it back to her to throw but then it is up to her to throw and retrieve the ball and attempt everything to get me re-engage in the game.

5. When all the two legged less hairy race complain about my anal exhales.
They have yet to master the art of appreciate the organic aroma that I produce and share with others, they really need to live more by the sharing is caring motto in life.

6. When the maid takes me to clothes shops.
Unless there is a Pet food aisle in a shop, I do not want to be there. Hoovering up stray bits of dog or cat food (I am not fussy) that has fallen on the floor from a ripped bag is me demonstrating my helpful nature. I do not wear clothes so therefore such shops don’t interest me.

7. When playtime ends.
When I am put back in my harness by my maid or on the lead by one of my dog walkers, my eyes will roll in protest. Play and sleep are the only two modes that I can ever be found in and surely, they don’t want me to sleep all day, do they?

8. When I gently take food out of any hand that is at my level and get told off for it.
I am polite and I never snatch. If there is food at my level, it is obvious that they want me to have it as they know that a regal being such as I need to be fed. Apparently, taking food off children is frowned upon. What a stupid rule as they are usually the ones with the tastiest of foods.

9. Having been told off yet again for digging up the flower beds.
I am a dog, I dig, Get over it.

10. When the maid uses that annoying sing song voice and talks to me in a childish voice.
I am far more intelligent than she will ever be so why she talks to me as if I am a baby I will never know. I have trained her and my other staff well and they should know that I should be spoken to like a king.

Eye rolling is just my way of expressing that whatever you are saying or doing is not okay with me. I am Munch and I am an eye rolling enthusiast and always will be until the day that my maid and other staff learn their wrong doings.

Munch’s Day Of Drama

Tags

Animals, Book, Books, Dog, Drama King, Guide Dog, Humour, Labradoodle, Writing

We were all set and ready to go.
There we sat, with one of my favourite authors of all time, ready to be filmed. Munch lay chilled out between his feet and I tried getting comfy and pretended to relax. See, Munch and I have a very different relationship with the camera. He adores all the attention and either gives his best poses or makes the one in charge of the camera work hard to get the shot. I on the other hand shy away from the camera as much as possible.
It was a dream come true as we got ready to be interviewed about my book by the brilliant Dr David R Hamilton. For those of you who have read his fascinating books, you will know that his knowledge of the mind and body connection is mind blowing. The pure passion that he has for his work is infectious and makes you start seeing your life in different way. On of my favourite books of his is The Five Side Effects of Kindness which makes you want to live your life in a whole different way right from the word go. He so generously agreed to endorse my book What You See When You Can’t See, and this interview was the icing on the cake.
The interview started well with David starting with the best opening line ever by saying “You had me at Hello” as he enjoyed the book from the first page. My nerves disappeared and we casually went into a lively conversation about the book. His interviewing techniques were so natural, and the chat flowed with ease until a funny odour began to emerge. Do you know when you think you smell something weird and then as if by innate curiosity you have to breath a bit deeper to check and regret it the instant you do it? Well that happened as soon as I smelt the rancid anal exhale of Munch.
Panic set in and I tried (but failed) to keep a neutral face as my body pleaded with me for some fresh air and I denied it its wishes. I felt so bad for David who just carried on so professionally and unfazed where I was losing my trail of thought as my brain screamed out for some oxygen amongst the green smog of Munch’s insides. Luckily, the cameraman halted the interview for a bit and poor David commented that as he was in the direct line of fire for Munch’s body part it had gone right up his nostrils. Thanks Munch, just thanks. What a way to make an impression.
We also had a pre-launch meeting at the office for book which focussed on possible book translations, media coverage etc which was so fascinating to be in. The work that Hay House Publishing put in behind the scenes is immense. I felt so blessed that these experts in the field oversaw promoting my book. We left the office on a high and minus the incident of singing poor David’s nostrils with Munch’s toxic fart, all had gone fantastic. The rest of the day was surely going to be just as great wasn’t it?
A nice walk in Regent Park in London was a must to let Munch to have a bit of off duty freedom. Walking in the grass he suddenly went limp and couldn’t put any weight on his right front paw. The poor soul began to roll around in the grass in pain and began licking his paw constantly trying to heal in. I was with my friend Steve (who is luckily fully sighted) who checked his paw over to check that there was nothing stick in his paw. We panicked as it looked like it could be an injury of a bone or a ligament, so we knew he needed a vet asap. We had a train to catch in 2 hours-time, so we rang around to get an appointment with a local vet.
As if by magic a local vet had one in an hour and a half’s time which was cutting it a bit fine, but it would have to do. The only issue was the Munch could not walk. Here we were over 200 miles away from home, in the middle of a huge park with a 6 stone Labradoodle needing to get to the vet which was a mile away. This was going to be fun. Uttering the words “we need something on wheels to move him” to Steve started the ball of manifestations rolling. He looked around and saw a Park Warden van in the distance, so he ran over to ask them if they had any ideas. They kindly offered to give us a lift out of the park and to a taxi. Steve carried Munch’s bulky body over the green and into the awaiting van as Munch leisurely took in the sights around him with his head held high. In the van he began whining again in pain. The Park Warden parked next to a taxi and Steve began phase 2 of the moving Munch operation and carried him into the taxi. Phase 3 was completed as he listed Munch from the taxi and into the Vets. Witnessing his pain was horrible.
Luckily as soon as we walked in, I heard the receptionist on the phone tell a client that they had missed their appointment, but they could swap for the time we were booked in for, so we had their appointment. The vet took us into the room and examined him and took him straight down to the treatment room. Ten minutes later, in bounded Munch happy as anything and was ready to take us home. Apparently, something had gone into the hair between the paw pads and made it a bit red. The dramatic rolling around on the grass in pain and whimpering that he was doing throughout, I thought that there may have something far more serious. £90 later and still in time to catch our train, we started out journey home.
I think it is fair to say that wherever Munch is drama will always unfold.

Time To Rest

Tags

Animals, Dog, Guide Dog, Humour, Labradoodle, Peace, Rest

The cheek of it. Of course, I can have another rest break just minutes after my last one if I want. Who does she think she is? My Owner???? Pfft, she wishes.

Us guide dogs work hard. Okay, so maybe most of them work harder than me as I do like the more relaxed approach to life but so what? I am who I am. Here I sit against this lovely tree, taking in my surrounds and feeling one with nature.

Some would suggest that I am sitting here watching the squirrel in a nearby tree, wondering if my maid that I am with will let me go and play chase with it but no I am quietly sitting her observing the surrounding area, carrying out a risk assessment for my maid. I mean, if we were both to go up the tree with said squirrel just to say hi. I know her clumsiness would cause a kerfuffle.

The sceptical among the two legged less hairy race may think that I need extra rest today after helping Angus the cat eat his left-over food and helping clean up the debris on the floor when the bag of chips from the chip shop ended up there. The silly maid left it too close to the edge of the kitchen unit and when I put my front paws on the unit to check what it was, I happened to knock it off with my larger than life nose. Not only was I demonstrating my sniffer dog detection abilities, but I also went that extra mile to unwrap the packaging with my nimble paws and eat up the slip hazard that lay in front of us. I know, I am all heart.

To those who do not know how regal beings such as I work, they may think that my sit-down protest by the tree could be since my cruel maid has said I cannot go into the river for a bank holiday dip. Apparently, I have had enough swims this week and she won’t have time to shower me for work tomorrow. How can she not love my soggy doggy river smell when it is my favourite smell in the World? My au natural aroma apparently is not that alluring to the two legged less hairy race that walk this earth. What is wrong with these people? Do they not know canine class when they smell it?

As I look longingly into the maid’s friend’s camera, I hope that my adoring fans realize how hard I work and deserve these impromptu rests. My squirrel resistant resilience that lives in my food filled stomach in my Olympic swimming physique body is just one aspect of me. My tolerance of the hired help that believes that she is the boss, should be officially recognised. My regal standing in the canine kingdom, should be respected by those of lower standing than I. As I am part poodle, my innate intelligence should allow me automatic entry into Mensa. Do I need to list anymore?

The humble part of me, however, is willing to carry on with this walk today in my own time. You cannot rush perfection and that is what I am. I think my maid has guessed by now after the two years together. that I am the leader and she must follow. She knows her place and I know mine.

Whatever the reason, take time to rest. A rested soul will always have enough energy to catch up with life when it is good and ready and show up to adventures that are waiting for them.

A Break Away

Tags

Animals, Dog, Guide Dog, Labradoodle, Offduty

He has sniffed my suitcase and given me The Look. He has been in this situation before.

I know he is wondering where we are off to this time although what he should be thinking is where is “she” off to this time. Munch has stayed in a few hotel rooms with me so he is probably wondering whether he should lay stretched out across the top of the bed or the bottom? My lack of space does not concern him and may even irritate him as he watches displeased when I try and lay in even a quarter of the bed. I know he is salivating over the thoughts of casually dropped food from passer byes and waiting staff that always appear to end up in front of him as he dutifully clears up for them. The areas around the hotel that need to be marked with his scent will add value to the surrounding area as King Munch makes his royal duties around the new place as he entertains the onlookers. This is what Munch thinks of as he sees the suitcase being packed. This time however, it is sans chien paraphernalia.

I have sat him down to tell him that unfortunately he cannot come with us this time as I am off to play Bowls for the VI Welsh Team in Scotland and there would be nobody there to look after him whilst I am playing. The look that I have had back is the “Yeah right, as if you would leave me behind, I am far too important” look. Promising not to get too attached to my white cane in the five days I am away has fallen on hostile ears. I have promised to bring him back some Scottish goodies for him, but he merely turns his head in protest and gives me the cold shoulder. It may seem like I am the cruellest dog maid of all time, but I have ensured that he will be pampered in his usual divaesque ways without fail yet nothing seems to make his tail wag as I plead for his forgiveness.

On the other end of the scale, my three children who still live at home cannot wait to see the back of me so that they can have some peace and quiet. My 15, 17- and 21-year olds are looking forward to a nag free few days, doing what they want when they want and not being subjected to my cooking. Regular phone calls home will probably annoy them more than comfort them, but it will be lovely to hear their voices. Munch on the other hand may get quite emotional hearing the voice on the other end of the phone. Just to clarify, he may not react much to my voice, but I know he will go crazy to hear the voice of his favourite dog walker who is coming with me who happens to also be my coach.

There is a strict timetable in place for King Munch’s care when we are away. The children have him for part of the day and then he is going to my parent’s house where he knows that they are putty in his paws. On arrival, he is greeted with love, fuss and treats that he really shouldn’t be having but does because apparently “His gorgeous eyes are asking for some and it would be cruel to say no”. He will then be off for his many walks and explorations with my dedicated father who loves him. He will swim in rivers, chase sticks and sniff until his heart is content (Munch not my father) and will amble home at his own pace for food. He will them lay on the feet of my loving mother upon his return and get fussed into the land of nod.

He will not miss his harness wearing duties for five days and will appreciate the well-deserve break that he will have. He will not miss the early mornings that he has to get up for work as he can have many a nice lie- in with the sleepy teenagers of the house. I however will miss everything about him and the kids for the whole five days as it is the longest I have ever been away from them. I only expect a cold shoulder from Munch when I return but I think it will be hardest to thaw out. If I write my next blog post in a weeks-time with frost bitten fingers, please excuse me. I am hoping a bit of haggis on our return will warm his heart a little and allow me back into his good books, wish me well with that…….

Is It A Bird? Is It A Plane? .. . No It’s A Guide Dog

Tags

Alternative, Animals, Beauty, Dog, Guide Dog, Humour, Labradoodle, Photography

Here in his natural habitat, lives the wildest of the species. Wild yet placid, he adapts to his surroundings without a blink of the eye. With no predators around to stop his decent on the vast open space around him, he leaps into action. The evolution of this species began around 45 million years ago and is rarely seen today. Many would say that they have become extinct but as you can see from this nature snap, they are alive and kicking with passion.

Amphicyonidaes (bear-dogs to the amateurs among us) as evolution progressed had dog like proportions but a heavier bear like build as can be seen in the above image. With the ideal mix of spirit and strength, this particular amphicyoidae has survived the Welsh climate despite leaving behind his ancestors around 2 million years ago. Current DNA from this solitary survivor shows that he has survived due to the fact that …. hang on…. wait…. Okay, scrap all that, it seems like it is not actually an evolutionary miracle, but it is in fact …. A dog. Hmmmmm.

How I would love to tell people that he is something as rare as an amphicyonidae , but I will just have to stick to the truth. There is something about being constantly questioned not only what breed of dog he is but also what type of working dog he is that really wants me to spin a little bit of a yarn. The disbelief that some people have in hearing he is a Labradoodle and not an Irish Wolfhound or other breed just makes me want to make the truth a little more fun and far-fetched. The “I didn’t know that Guide Dogs use these types of dogs” brigade I am sure would appreciate a little chuckle instead of the seemingly mundane “yes they do now” response.

The latest query about Munch’s authenticity as a guide dog came from a friendly inquisitive man whilst I was out walking. Stating “I was wondering what type of animal that was when I saw you from further back. He looked more bear than dog” this sweet man chuckled. Asking if he was a trainee sniffer dog, I softly shattered that illusion for him as I told him the only thing he would be good at is sniffing out food and the local lamp posts for the doggy newspaper version of what is going on around the area. “Well, you have shocked me now. Not only is he a guide dog but the strangest looking Labradoodle I have seen” He shouted over his shoulder as he bid us farewell.

The “Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it’s guide dog” affect is still well and truly alive in our surroundings. I am just trying to think of some witty come backs that I can offer the ones who are confused by Munch’s heritage. If you have any, please let me know as I think it is only fair that we start a local rumour that there is a rare species roaming around the streets just to keep the mystery surrounding him going.

The Way To His Heart

Tags

Animals, Dog, Food, Guide Dog, Labradoodle, Sharing

“Sorry sugar cube. One more early morning and I swear you can have a long lie in”. I reasoned with the unreasonable.
Mornings really aren’t his thing. Munch was not one of these dogs that I have heard of that loved early mornings and greets their owners with masses of kisses when they clap eyes on them for the first time each morning. Munch was more of a ‘Stroke me, massage me, kiss me and tell me how awesome I am before I even think about opening me eyes’ kind of dog. I learnt this the first week we met which was totally okay with me from the start. I know cold shoulder from such a warm-hearted soul can be a dent to the ego. but mornings are just not his thing.

Among his loud sighs. eye rolls and silent treatment he showered upon me we made it to work early which meant we had time for a quick game of catch with his ball. The intention was to play catch, but it turned more into a slow game of squash as I threw and the only one there to play was the stoic wall which to be honest was giving me far more attention than Munch was that day. Not even his favourite squeaky toy cow could tempt him to play. I was a little worried that he may be coming down with something as he was moodier than usual.

Throughout the morning he kept coming over to my bag with lunch in, sniffed it, looked at me and slumped off away to his bed. No amount of coaxing him with fuss and love seemed to cheer him up. Lunchtime when we settled down on his bed for lunch (we always share) I realized I had forgotten his favourite vegan cheese and spinach wrap that we had most days. His little whines let me know that he wasn’t impressed at all and that is why I was well and truly in the dog house. Refusing dried mango and yoghurt that was in the bag, he grabbed his bed in his mouth, turned his back and stomped off to have a mega tantrum. My apologize fell on his closed off ears and a cheese deprived soul.
His cheese less lunch fuelled rage hung heavily in the air all day. He showered affection on the clients that we saw as he sat in front of them and gave them his paw for some fuss and turned his back on me in protest. I did begin to wonder if he may have a slight cheese addiction. To test my theory of this was the reason for his diva like strop that day, I made his favourite cheese filled wrap when we got home to share with him and as expected, he returned to his usual loving self. Since then, I have been cautious to never forget his daily treat and he has been kind enough to allow me back into his good books.The way to this male heart really is though his stomach.

The Sloth Guru

Tags

Dog, Guide Dog, Guru, Humour, Labradoodle, Life Purpose, Sleep, Sloth

Is your life goal to move as little as possible, sleep a lot and spend your days conserving your energy? If so, here is your chance to find out how to live that horizontal life to the max from one of the worlds leading experts in the field Minster Munch Cooper. In this fascinating interview from this professional sloth act alike, you will gain insight into what you personally need to do to become one of the most sought- after spots in history of Snoozetown. So, get comfy, settle in and feel happy in the knowledge that this will be your main spot for the foreseeable future.

Interviewer – So, I have heard that after many years of training in the field, you are the go-to guru that holds the key to transforming one’s life into a sloth like haven. What would you tell want to be sloths about life in Snoozetown?

Note – The interview was put on hold at this point for 45 minutes as the guru fell into a slumber mid-question and was unable to respond. Only a disturbance from Angus the cat walking over his face roused him from his sleep.

The sloth Guru – It’s comfy.

The Interviewer – You sloths are renowned for being gentle creatures. You must feel unthreatened by the environment that you are in and feel at ease with those around you. What is the secret to becoming the gentle soul that you are and trusting in people around you?

The Sloth Guru – Cuddle and show affection to everyone you meet.

The Interviewer – Oh that is so sweet. What advice can you give to others on how to conserve energy if they want the sloth like existence?

The Sloth Guru – Look cute, look needy and let others fetch and carry for you.

The Interviewer – Some wise words their Guru Sloth. How much beauty sleep do you need to keep you looking so beautiful?

The Sloth Guru – Sleep up to 20 hours a day without fail.

The Interviewer – Are you always in the sloth-like mode or do you ever get energetic?

The Sloth Guru – Not a lot of people know that sloths can swim so you may find me swimming like a fish. Then sleeping for the rest of the day and night.

The Interviewer – It has been noted that you tend to be a little…. clumsy, is that the sloth in you or is that just your adorable personality?

The Sloth Guru – No comment.

The Interview – Sorry if I offended you. Where is your ‘happy’ zone?

The Sloth Guru – Sleeping.

The Interviewer – What gets you excited?

The Sloth Guru – Sleeping.

The Interviewer – Tell me what is your ideal life?

The Sloth Guru – Sleeping.

The Interviewer – What inspiration can you give to others who want to live a serene life like yours?
The Sloth Guru- zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

If you have found this interview as enthralling as the Sloth Gurus life, take his hints and life hacks to live the life that your inner laziness really wants you to live. The Sloth Gurus teachings can be found in the Land of Nod so get snoozing and get slothing.

Swan Lake

Tags

Animals, Beauty, Dog, Guide Dog, Labradoodle, Swan, Unconditional Love

“I demand you get back in here NOW”.

How dare he come into my lake (okay my pond but my home so I will call it what I want) and leave without permission. Does he not realize how magnificent Swans such as I are, and that we decide who we welcome or reject in our home? I knew straight away that he was one that could be easily manipulated. He was as threatening as a leaf as he gently tip toed into my territory. I could sense straight away that he wasn’t one of those small yappy dogs that wanted to fight everything including its shadow. He was a big softy.

Led by his mischief, he come close enough to say hello but far enough away not to get pecked. I am glad he knew the rules that he must abide by with me from the word go. Having a quick gander around I could see most of the other swans and ducks were elsewhere so I thought I may as well have some entertainment with my new hairy friend.

As the featherless and relatively hairless two legged being that was with this dog chatted away to others of the similar species, I heard him say that the dog was not his, but he was a friend of the owners. How ridiculous the two-legged species can be believing that they own a dog. Try owning a swan and see how far they get.

Apparently, my new play mate was called Munch. I instructed Munch that we would be playing chase around the pond and he seemed fine with it. Obviously, I was the leader and he trailed behind me like an after-thought. Okay well, he was quite a cute after thought but I didn’t want to tell him that and inflate his ego as I didn’t want him thinking he was equal to a swan. Gliding off gracefully in my regular haunt, I could hear him panting heavily behind me as he doggy paddled at speed to keep up. It was so much fun circling back around him and chasing him back.

The laughter I heard coming from the banks from the two-legged kind made us put on more of a show. Is it that bizarre for a swan and a dog to be play mates? I heard the man that Munch was with saying that he had taken pictures to show his owner (pfft, Munch told me he calls her his maid). My heart sank a little when I saw him heading for the bank for the last time. He woofed that he will be back soon for another play date. He seems to respect my pond (which I told him was really the best lake in the world and he believed me), so he is welcome to come back for a game of chase whenever he wants.

Until we meet again Munch, keep being the gentle soul that you are.

Follow The Leader

Tags

Choice, Dog, Freedom, Guide Dog, Labradoodle, Life lessons, Thanks

Was this the way that he really wanted to go? It is usually the river that he runs to for some active aqua therapy or the field on top of the hill for some freedom therapy. The bird hide isn’t usually his thing. Maybe it was just the Welsh on the sign that was confusing him?

Over the last two years he has become almost fluent in Welsh commands (and swear words) and even joined in with the Welsh rugby win last weekend and the St David’s celebration on March 1st but I suppose asking him to learn the written word in a little too far.

Munch likes a lot of choice in life and loves to mix things up a bit so that’s all you can do with him is expect the unexpected. As he had forgotten his binoculars that day, I did wonder if he really wanted to go to the bird hide and knew as soon as he started down the path that he would change his mind half way through as it seemed a little too civilised for his liking. When he turned on his heel half way along the path, we just followed like obedient staff.

Saying our hellos to a fellow dog walker who noticed the change in our direction, she commented that she would never allow her dog to dictate where she went, and it was the other way around as she felt that she had all the power over her furry companion and that she always chose what he would do.

As we set off in Munch’s chosen direction, I felt so blessed that we were in each other’s lives as our outlook on life is practically identical. If Munch had ended up with the lovely but power-hungry owner that we had just met, he wouldn’t be the same free-spirited pooch as he was today. Mutual understanding and respect work much better that a control and fear-based relationship, as when we find equality, we learn to work in harmony with one another life becomes more blissful .

Believing that we have all the control over another living being speaks volumes about the balance that we believe we have in life and how secure we feel in this world of change.
Munch spends a lot of his time guiding me around which allows me to be independent and more adventurous that I could ever be without him. I give daily gratitude to him for being my eyes, my compass and my doorway to freedom and I will do whatever I can to repay him for his loyalty.

Leaving him to chose what he wants to do on his time off I feel is the least I can do for his guiding. Even his easy adaption to bilingual commands shows that he is far more than a possession and is in fact a talented teraway with a heart of gold and a spongy brain. I would never dampen his flair for free choices even if it means looking to others like I am the one in training.

Changing paths in life is never a sign of weakness but a sign of adventure. Keep choosing to change your mind Munch and I will always follow you into the adventure.