Recent Posts by Grover

You can say any foolish thing to a dog, and the dog will give you this look that says, “My God, you’re right! I never would have thought of that!”

— Dave Barry

If you think dogs can’t count, try putting three dog biscuits in your pocket and then giving Fido only two of them.

— Phil Pastoret

The Journey Continues

DSC_4587Moving in with a new roommate can be stressful, especially if it’s a human. All I’ve ever known is the dog pack, so there were adjustments. It was evident right from the beginning that Doc was establishing herself as the Alpha.

Alphas have lots of stupid rules. No going to the bathroom in the house, no chewing on the furniture, no nipping, no pulling feathers out of the pillows and the list goes on and on. Just when you think you know how you are suppose to act, off to puppy kindergarten classes you go. There you learn a whole new set of rules. I was only 10 weeks old, but I was already exhausted from all the things you need to know to function in polite society.

When I finally graduated from all my training, it was off to my new job. I started on Friday’s when I was five months old. I met patients and staff and became accustomed to all of the noises and daily routines. I liked it from the start. People brought me treats, dog toys, and rubbed my belly. But of course, who doesn’t love a puppy. I kept growing and learned to be a good therapy dog. I soon realized that the patients and the staff needed me. I provided comfort, comic relief and unconditional love.

Two years have passed since my birth and I am now a registered therapy dog. The relationship with Doc has developed into a special bond. We care for each other and  for those that need us. At the end of the day when I am curled up next to Doc, I sometimes think about the farm and the day that Doc came and picked me for this special life. Then, I drift off to sleep feeling content.

Dogs have owners, cats have staff.

— Anonymous

In the Beginning There Was Grover and Doc

The life of a dog can change in a minute. One day you are a puppy living on a goat farm in rural Ohio with your mom and your siblings. The next day you’re on your way to the suburb of a big city, bound for a new adventure.

I can remember that it was a warm fall day in September of 2012 the first time I met Doc. I was only six weeks old and was playing in the yard with my brothers and sisters when a car pulled up to the farm house. A tall woman with dark hair exited the car and came toward us. As soon as she saw out little black furry bodies, her face softened and her eyes began to sparkle. She got down in the grass, turned us on our backs, rubbed our bellies, looked in our ears, inspected our teeth, grabbed our tails and shook a can with rocks in it to see if we startled easily. I have to admit that at first I thought she was a little pushy, but after a while I could tell she was the kind of human that liked to have fun. I kept going over to her and licked her toes so she would know that I liked her. What I didn’t know at the time was that Doc was choosing a puppy to be trained as a therapy dog. The “games” she played with us helped her to gauge our temperament. Soon Doc rose from the grass, got in the car and drove away.

Four weeks went by, when one morning, the man that owned the farm, came in the barn and told me it was time for a bath because I was going to have a new home. I liked it at the farm, but I was ready for a change. I was almost ten weeks old and didn’t need my mother to nurse me anymore. After my bath I was getting a blow dry when there was a knock at the door. In walked Doc. I was happy to find out that she would be my new human mother. We all said our goodbyes and then got in the car. I snuggled in her lap, nose to tail, where I fell right to sleep and dreamed of my new home. I could not have imagined the wonderful journey that lay before me.

 

I bought my grandmother a Seeing Eye dog. But he’s a little sadistic. He does impressions of cars screeching to a halt.

— Larry Amoros

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