|Come a little closer. I can't lick you yet.|
I reach for the light blue bandanna on the kitchen counter and turn to Micron.
Dress, I say to him.
My big yellow dog lowers his noggin and slips into the open loop. He looks up at me, expectant. The Tail of Wondrous Beauty is slowly wagging.
You know what, big guy? I say. I think tonight's event calls for full Class A uniform. Let's put your working cape on and get you all official looking.
Because he's going to work.
Once attired in full gear, Micron runs to the Toyota and prances at the car door, looking back at me.
C'mon two-legger! Let's go! he says. We're burnin' daylight here.
And so I secure the therapy dog in the back seat, turn the key, and we hit the road to meet us some Cub Scouts to talk about the jobs of working dogs.
I didn't expect any real challenges for the evening. After all, Micron is a true professional, highly trained in the skills of pet therapy and the like. So with confidence and a loose leash, we strut our stuff into the entrance of our venue, an elementary school.
Ok, let's pause here for just a moment. So who has now, or ever, born witness to the entrance of an elementary school at the end of a long, cold winter? Yeah? So you know what I mean when I mention the ubiquitous sight that heralds Spring along with the song of the red breasted robin, right?