Back to my normal work schedule, which means I get home around 4:30 and need to pick up Monkey Do between 5:30 and 6:00. With SweetPea home sick, I knew Gomi was probably bored out of her mind, so I strapped her leash on her, wrangled up Monkey See for back up (I can't really take Gomi in to sign Monkey Do out) and we walked down to pick her up.
Grand total: right around a mile.
I'm not quite sure which dog I'd rather be walked by, frankly.
Gomi has the compulsive urge to put everything. she. sees. in her mouth. And then she had a crap about halfway there, even though I'd made her have one before we even left.
Picking up poo is not on my agenda item wish list.
After we nabbed Monkey Do, we saw our good friend Miss Vet Tech pulling in to pick up her kidlets. So we had a bit of a wait so we could have a visit. Gomi then proceeded to hurl herself into the air twice, followed by flinging herself to the ground on her back (clanking her head on the concrete) and then wrigglingwrigglingwriggling for belly rubs.
Pit bulls are soooo vicious.
Miss Vet Tech said that more people should have interactions like that with pits, so maybe they'd see that they really are good, sweet family dogs.
We practiced sitting before crossing each street, even though we had to stand there like dipwads more than once while Gomi looked around like "Sit? What is this "sit" of which you speak?" Once she sat like a good girl, we looked around, I asked "Is it safe?" and, once it was, we proceeded across.
I don't know, it just seems like it wouldn't be too keen of an idea for a service dog to go tearing into traffic. This way she gets used to waiting before hitting the street.
Now I'm hot and sweaty and starting to get a little sore, frankly. In a little bit, though, I'm measure both those damn dogs for one of those harnesses.
Otherwise, Gomi may never see Doggy Dash.
Depending on how I feel, I may go for solo walkies after dinner. It's infinitely more fun when I get to hit my stride and don't keep tripping over dogs.