Listening to: The Shiverettes - Dead Men Can’t Cat Call
This is my “Oh, hey. While you’re up can you grab me a beer?” photo.
Stanley was born atop Chilliwack Mountain. Runt of the litter, it was hit or miss whether he lived. Lucky for us, he not only pulled through, but became largest of the bunch. Size AND personality.
If you met him, you’d know he’s rather outgoing. Assuming he’s welcome wherever he goes, whether you’re a stranger sitting quietly reading on a park bench or a family having a picnic. Welcome to Stanley.
We did a lot of training with him at first. A lot because he was considered “wilful for the breed” and had to stay after class. Even so we eventually won a trophy for “most improved” of the year. Though he immediately forgot everything. Probably my fault.
He’s worked as a support dog both in workplaces during crunch times and as an anxiety dog of sorts at other events. He’s even been asked to help children get over their fear of dogs. If you wander about with him chances are people won’t remember your name. Been called “Mr. Stanley” on more than one occasion. All good.
If you see him out in Vancouver, please say hi. His entire reason for being (besides food) is to love strangers. Walks are great as you’re never alone for long. Even those brief distanced conversations help a lot during these isolating times.
I love the bugger. He lives upstairs now because of pet number 2. Willy the attack cat. More on him in another post.