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  • Writer's pictureStefanie Marvin-Miller

We're Professionals....Trust Me

No, seriously, we're professionals.

With the unofficial "launch" of our website, I've found myself sitting on the edge of my computer chair, refreshing the page over and over, waiting for a sign of life from the world wide web.

Today, as I'm sitting here, excitedly hovering my mouse over the refresh button, I heard a noise that can only be described as a mixture of a rhino and horse whine. That noise can only be made by Leland, it's his way of getting my attention, or putting up an argument over doing something.

I turn around, and this big, yellow goofball has his chew ring in his mouth, looking at me with expectant, big, brown eyes, begging me to get up and play. This brings up a pretty important point of our relationship, and that is the fact that while Leland is a hard working service dog, a professional, the best of the best, he is also still a dog.

His work never stops, and he will never be fully "off duty". He'll always be watching me, listening, and monitoring the changes in my moods and signals, even when I'm asleep, but he can go home and "take off the vest", both literally and figuratively.

When his service vest comes off, so does the focused, intense exterior that is "Leland the Super Dog". It's a pretty impressive exterior, trust me. Once that vest slips over his head, the tail starts wagging, the ears flip back in excitement, and the eyebrows furl together in expectant patience, knowing that in mere seconds, it's time to play.

And boy, is it time to play.

This dog leaps, bounds, and gallops through the house; running up and down the stairs, leaping over the bed, jumping onto the couch, and tossing toys in the air, only catch it perfectly, seconds later. This dog rolls, all four paws in the air, playfully throwing his toys around him, releasing all of the stress of the day. He and sister, Willow, a Great Pyrenees, race through the house, or race through the dog park together, playing like big dogs do.

So now, when I start to tense, by merely sitting at my desk, in my chair, he knows it's time for me to have that same feeling; to unwind, let loose, and have fun. The nose gets shoved under my elbow, the grunts and noises start in my direction, and the gigantic jaw starts snapping in frustration, if I ever try to ignore him. But, of course, who could ignore that face?

Now, if you'll excuse me, it's play-time!

-Stefanie and Leland

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