Yo LuceFans!

In about six weeks time it’ll have been two years since I began the gruelling job of towing TMS around the country. Since then we’ve got into (and I’ve usually got her out of) all sorts of scrapes: being hit by cars, walking in puke, falling into sludge to name but a disgusting few. And we’ve used all sorts of transport: cars, buses, removal vans, trains and tubes, a huge ferry boat from Liverpool when we moved here, and lots of those big silver birds whose tummies you climb inside. I’ve guided her in a multitude of scenarios, from crowded London streets, escalators and train stations, to lonely Irish country roads. And while I’ve been guiding her she’s never hurt herself, not once. I swear I’ve hardly ever put a paw wrong!

Surely this qualifies me to call myself a REAL guide dog!

But the “real” guide dogging people won’t give TMS a card with my picture on it like the ones the humans belonging to other guide dogs have. TMS says a card like this would be very useful because it would give me official status as a guide dog, and we’d be able to growl at anyone who tried to stop us from going into public places or from flying on a silver bird. She says she doesn’t know what our legal status is, and that she’s afraid to take me to London in case I’m stopped from coming back.

I really want to go back to see my friends at the four cats house. I wonder if I’ll ever see them again? And it scares me to think of poor TMS trying to get around London without me. She says she got me because she almost fell under a tube at Liverpool Street. I think that’s why she was so happy that first day I walked her up the platform there without touching anything.

Well, I guess there’s not much we can do about it. I’ll just keep on guide dogging the best I can, and she’ll keep on leaving me when she goes to visit my best friends Nadia, Kira and Tara in London.

The bestest thing ever happened to me the other day. Like all Golden Retrievers, my cousin Sheba is a very fussy eater. So her humans put down a few big bowls of dried dog food and cheesy pasta and different things to let her choose which one she preferred. Then in charged clever Lucy and gobbled the lot down within about a minute. I’d just polished off my own dinner too! I’m amazing! I spent most of the night whining and groaning because my tummy was bursting at the seams, and it was really funny watching TMS trying to pick up my ginormous poo the next morning.

I think I might be the luckiest guide dog on the planet. There’s a photo on TMS’s phone of me lying on my back on her new leather couch, back legs all over the place and front paws waving in the air, head hanging over the edge. I look even more cute than usual. I wish I knew how to put it on this blog.

We’re going to a funeral in the morning. I’ve never been to one of those before, but I hear there’s singing, which I’m very good at. I bet I can sing louder than anyone else.

Sniff you next time!