If I were a few years younger I might write, "I Heart Working Dogs." I'm still not too sure how to use that slang, sad to say.
I saw this working dog on the metro the other day, lying on the cool tile to beat the heat. It's finally getting warmer. Yay.
I miss my "fur fix." At least that is how my old co-worker Slow Feet sweetly describes most veterinary nurses' compulsive need to pet animals. Nest searching I do get to stop and pet people's dogs when they are out walking them.
Seeing this dog made me remember the one time I anesthetized a working dog. Of course, it was one of those labs that wouldn't go down to a surgical plane and then when it finally went down was way too deep. I turned off the gas because it wasn't breathing, and I wasn't breathing either! I kept thinking, "Crap! The woman who owns this dog depends on him, he can't die!" And he didn't die. I worried because he got so deep he might have suffered some lingering side effects and not been able to do his job as well, but from what I know that didn't come to pass either.
Guide dogs and working dogs are just amazing. Someday, besides rescuing pit bulls, I want to have a guide dog puppy that I raise and socialize. I would feel like I was really doing something special.
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