Today was one of the first times I was out with my pup and we got a compliment about how well-behaved he was as a service dog. We went to a restaurant with my friend on his lunch break, and as soon as we sat down at the high-top tables, puppy quickly laid down and started to nap on my bag.
The girl said a lot of people try to bring their pets into the restaurant and obviously a chihuahua is not a service animal. Therapy, maybe…but they can’t really perform any service. Anyway, I was really taken aback because of her compliment. I always worry that he’ll act out (which he hasn’t yet, knock on all the wood), or that he’ll have to go to the bathroom or something. Luckily he had just gone on the walk to the restaurant, so I wasn’t too worried about that.
Unfortunately, only seconds after we got back the food started to react. Like explosively and painfully. This change had a domino effect to the rest of my afternoon. Instead of pleasant saunters and sushi with the boyfriend and pup, it’s writing a paper from the comfort of a commode.
I know the road to recovery is a long one, but sometimes I wish it came with some predictability. Anywhoo, I got some books in the mail for an upcoming event, and I’m considering doing a lit post from time to time. Something to ponder while I retreat to the loo.