Plus - Minus

For the most part, I think the day went well, starting with Ralph coming out from under the bed while I was on the computer.  I was so glad to see his little face after two days.  He went back to his sanctuary the minute I left the room and didn't come out again.  Sigh.

GB and I went out to tend to morning chores later and I explained we would do this every day.  A turkey was waiting for breakfast and GB's ears perked up.  "Leave it!"  The ears dropped.  "Good boy!'  (He probably wonders why I keep saying his name.)  He didn't show much interest in the chickens, but ohmigosh when we got down to the goat pen where the girls were waiting!  "Oh, lady, you got me my own toys!  I will move them here and I will move them there (that's what shepherds do), and I will do such a good job!"  The girls were having none of that, snorted and ran off.  Excitedly, GB boink, boink, boinked along the fence line, trying to influence them from afar.  I had to tell him, "Stay," when I went in the gate to feed Missy.  Evidently stay, like come, are not words in his vocabulary (yet).  He was waiting in the driveway when I came back, not where I'd left him.

He finally ate some of the kibble in his bowl.  He'd not had a bite the day before as it was not the brand he was used to, as well as being stressed.  I understood, but, as with my Kids, "Eat it or don't.  It's what you're getting."

Celeste never ceases to amaze me.  She came out in the middle of the day, made sure where GB was (lying on the loveseat), and decided to check out GB's bed.  (Yes, that is a "Reserved Parking" sign.)  She's really getting bold.

Still no sign of Ralph.  That's a true minus in our lives.  It seems I've ruined Ralph's life, not Celeste's.  I have really missed seeing that flash of red as he raced past and hearing his "Brrp brrp" as he'd go by.  I thought he'd be the brave one.

I'll say this for GB, I'm getting more exercise now.  We go out for another walk together at end of day, and he goes exploring.  I'd been becoming a real couch potato and he's getting me out and about.  I was wrong; GB is not a 'service' dog, but a 'support' dog, and there is a difference.  GB has not been trained to do tasks for the disabled, but to be a calming influence for emotional needs (PTSD, agoraphobia, and the like).  Given my ongoing cancer stuff, I guess I qualify and called to ask my doctor to write a letter in this regard.  I don't want to fly a false flag.  The last thing Doc had said at my appointment after Bessie Anne died was, "Get another dog!"

Oh yay!  GB sleeps in and that gave Ralph the courage to come to the kitchen for breakfast this morning.  He hasn't eaten for two days and was ravenous.  That's a plus, and it gives me hope.