Traveling Therapist

I shared this on Facebook first, but I know we have followers that opt out of social media (we totally get it!). This should be short and amusing (Danny DeVito?) at least we thought it was funny.

We have a sign posted on our door out front (I’ll do my best to include it in the post) that requests no knocking or ringing of the doorbell unless you NEED a person to sign for a delivery, or what have you… otherwise, we’re probably not interested. Honestly, it’s not 1987. Even if you want to drop by at a moment’s notice (I have no idea why you would? We’re horrible…) I’ll bet you have a phone in your hand and can text us.

Today, we get a knock at the door. Dad Looks through a kitchen window and sees a person we don’t know. They’re not a delivery person or a postal carrier; we’re sure they SAW the sign, right?

Dad decides to answer amidst Wednesday barking her fool head off. I’m sure we covered this, but she has limited sight. She gets anxious around new people, and for some reason, the front door is a trigger we’re working on eliminating. So, Dad stepped out to talk with her.

He came back in with a puzzled grin. He said, she introduces herself and announces that she is here to provide physical therapy. For most people, this is simple either you need a visiting therapist, or you don’t. Kind of like if someone shows up to fix a septic system you don’t have, you get to say “Sorry, dude, wrong house!”


A couple weeks ago I took Dad to the doctor’s office looking for recommendations for a new PT/Personal Trainer. So, this now gets a response of, “OK? But, why are you HERE?”

Now she looks as puzzled as Dad. See the Doctor’s office called Dad last week and said they found someone that may help us, and she was going to send along medical history and have the trainer contact Dad so we could schedule a meeting to see if we could work together.  Having a PT show up at the house looking to work with you is convenient, but odd. In our experience, mid-westerners are nice, but not nice enough to come to you unannounced expecting to fix ya right up! (We do have a lot of door to door salespeople here… that’s also odd to us, but another story altogether.) Did she just know there is someone in this house that desperately needs PT? If she did, that’s pretty cool!

She looks at her phone, looks at the house number on the wall, then to Dad and says, “Oh! I was looking for house number xx07, not xx01. Sorry, have a nice day!”

Uh, Yeah… you too! – BYE Felicia!



Out’n about

Hi friends,

It has been an interesting few days for your friendly Dane. It started when I woke dad up with a whine and head shaking over the holiday “weekend”. (Who puts a holiday on a Tuesday? Honestly, take a couple days off, but come back for a Monday, and we’ll give you Tuesday off?) Dad jumped up to get me out because it is rare that I need to wake him to do my business. I was NOT feeling well, let me just leave it there (on the lawn). I also started shaking my head and scratching my ears. This is a sign that the seasonal allergies are kicking my tail. We tried to call my doctor but since we had trouble getting through, we assume they needed a break and took a few days to celebrate; good for them. We were able to work around Dad’s schedule and get me an appointment. Dad tricked me though by bringing me to his dentist appointment first. Most of the staff know me at this point, we’ve been going to the same office for about two years; so it was funny that we had a new experience. The hygienist that usually takes dad’s appointments was on vacation so we met someone new, to us. She directed Dad through the hall so Dad asked me to take a RIGHT, and go to the end of the hall, which I did. When we reached the end of the hall there were two workspaces to choose. We stopped and asked which one she’d like us in. She said “that one!” The problem was, that she happened to follow us down the hall so we couldn’t see which one “that one” was. So, Dad asked, as he does, which one..?  She repeated, “That one”. We were hopeful for a left or right designation, but sure, okay. So Dad could hear her behind on our left, so we waited, and she pointed to “that one”, which looked too much like the wall between the rooms. I know my left from my right, ma’am, please pick one. Ultimately we ended up in the space to the right, so… cool! Now, I feel the need to describe the space for you. It’s probably 2 outstretched Danes wide x 3 Danes at by boredom long, (So 8’x12’? in human). Plenty of space for a dental chair, a couple stools, and the equipment, but add in a Dane and it’s a bit smaller. In the interest of expediency, Dad put my fluffy down at the back of the space so everyone could enter. He forgot that the chair moves in that direction when they lay him back. He let me stay there until they were done taking new pictures of his teeth, mostly because the heat index was over 100 degrees and that spot had the A/C blowing cool air on me. Then hygienist reminded us of the chair and questioned if I could move. Dad grinned and confirmed in the affirmative. He asked, “Bubba – UP?” and “Over!” I stood and moved off my fluffy. Dad moved my fluffy to the left of his chair and asked for a “down-stay”. As I was moving, she asked will he stay there; is he okay? I settled in, and Dad hopped up in the chair with a smile and said, yep! Dad did let her know that I may stand once or twice to check on him but not to worry. She asked what else she needed to know. I thought, well… hygienist-ing would be good, but that was probably too snarky. Dad just said, “That’s it, just wanted to be sure you were comfortable with small dogs” As he does.

Just when we thought things would go as planned from here, someone comes in and says, “Does that say Hershey’s?” Dad’s eyes squint and his head tilts, not sure the question he heard, is what was actually asked. He started looking around for candy bar… The same question again… He asked, huh, where? The lady points to my “Service Dog” patch and laughs as she reads it. “I thought that said Hershey, for some reason.” Dad responds with, Yeah we’re sponsored by candy and we believe in advertising”. She laughs and exits, only to return a moment later to open a drawer to be filled with toothbrush and floss kits. Dad quickly asks if she’s putting chocolate bars in there for him? She laughs, says no, and continues. The rest of the visit was standard fare. Of course, we handed out my business cards, the candy lady seemed excited to follow us, so we’ll see if she comments on the post.

Next, we get to go and see my doctor, but first, we waste a few minutes in the local Atwoods parking lot, because there is no need to be early, and my doctor schedules so that if you get there on time you are less likely come in contact with other animals. That’s helpful in case anyone is sick, or coming out of surgery. Anyway, I mention the parking lot because we were there less than fifteen minutes and saw two pet dogs walk in with their person. Can ya feel it? Here comes the PSA. People, please leave your pets at home in the A/C whenever possible. I have extensive training to bring Dad into these places, your pets do not. We have had encounters in the past that have at the very least caused embarrassment, and at the worst have caused minor injury to Dad. We agree that you should NOT leave your companion in a hot car, but you are breaking Federal Law bringing your pet places only trained/training Service teams should be. The fact that management allows you to enter does NOT make it legal. It’s a good thing we don’t want to own a retail store. Okay, so I’m off soap box now.

I get to the doctor’s office, and we held the door for a pup going home after surgery. Dad put me behind the door so we didn’t scare her. I was a bit nervous in the waiting area this time, but I didn’t want to talk about it. He understood and let it go. I weighed in at 148 lbs of kibble machine, in case anyone was curious. My Doc and I have a mutual love for each other, so when I saw him following us down the hall I had to turn a bit, give him a tail wag to say hello. The Vet-tech was new to us so I turned on the charm, (as much as possible at the doctor’s office) and of course she loved me. She liked how I even took direction during my nail trim even when I didn’t really want to. Of course, she also got a “Casper Card” as we finished up. The doc gave me an injection just under the skin that really helps me to not itch. The shot makes me really thirsty so Dad makes extra-sure I have lots to drink.

Now, on to the embarrassing bit, because Dad holds me to his standard of sharing EVERYTHING! I woke Dad this morning whimper.  Dad jumped up as quickly as he could and took me out, but unfortunately, he could tell by looking at the floor (in five places) that I couldn’t hold it. After I finished up outside I stayed with him as he cleaned up after me. He assured me it was okay, and accidents happen. He says there are two kinds of people. Those that have wrecked their shorts at some point in their life, and then there are those that deny it. He gave me extra Nom-Noms and pumpkin with my breakfast and extra water to settle my tummy. I’ve also been given the day off to cuddle the cats while he brings my sister to her doggie playdate and back. I don’t usually allow him to be alone but in this case, I like being back yard adjacent.

Herein ends my TMI session, but you always ask me to tell all, so there it is!