No, really. I am. There's no shame in it. I live for my job and work for my life; and my girl's life too.
You don't believe me?
Let me tell ya all bouts it.
For those of you who don't know me, my name is Glacier. Not Iceberg, Ice cube or Blizzard as some would like to call me: it's Glacier. I know it because it was the first thing I learned. It's the first word that leaves my girl's mouth when she's giving me a cue. Cues like, "Glacier forward," or "Glacier find the curb."
That's right. I find curbs and a whole bunch of things. Curbs, chairs, doors, stairs, escalators, elevators. I even know how to "find the Daddy." My girl taught me that one because both her and the Daddy's eyes don't work so well. That's why my girl has me. That's why I'm a working stiff.
My training started when I was a little wee guy. I lived with a really great family who taught me all the things I would need to know to be a working dog. Then, I moved into a school for six months and started learning a whole bunch of new things; things like watching for cars, moving safely around obstacles, ignoring food/people/other dogs. That ignoring thing was the hardest thing to learn. I'm a Labrador, how can I possibly ignore food?
But I do because it is my job. If I stop to pick up that tasty french fry off of the ground, my girl could walk into a pole or even out into traffic. I'm expected to be aware of my surroundings and ignore them all at once. It used to be confusing. Now, it's just my job; a job that I love.
My job has let me do some pretty cool things. I get to go into malls, grocery stores, ride on trains/planes/buses. Anywhere my girl goes, I'm going too. I was even there when she carried the Olympic torch. How many dogs can say they got to help carry the Olympic torch?
As soon as my girl gets my harness off the hook by the door, I am right at her side. I won't let her go anywhere without me. She might get hit by a car if I don't go along. So, she can just put that notion out of her silly head that she's leaving me at home. My girl seems to think she makes the decisions, but it's really me. She may tell me where we're going, but dude, I'm the one who doesn't let her walk forward if there's a car coming. I'm the one who finds the door when it's time to turn in. What if I didn't want to go to the gym today? Did you ever think about that little missy?
I'm a working stiff and proud of it. Don't believe me?