When Claren, my first service dog, was sick and couldn't go to work with me, I was aggravated.
She made my life better and easier, and I knew I'd have to put up with strangers asking where my dog was. Like the day after I broke my collar bone and I left her home because my arm had no strength to hold her leash. I was wearing a sling and someone came up wanting to know if my dog was OK. She didn't care about me apparently.
I could do the stuff Claren did for me, not as easily as she could, but usually without risking life or limb.
When current service dog Fame is sick (as she was today), I am not aggravated, but genuinely upset. She also makes my like better and easier, and people I don't really know ask after her.
But unlike with Claren, there is more risk when I undertake Fame's chores.
It is not the dogs, it is that my body is worse.
i survived, but I don't like my body, have I mentioned?
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