Here’s pic of our happy Max getting a bath. He also got trimmed, clipped, and expressed. 😄
We’re calling this a big win.
4/4

When the groomer arrived, Max came out wagging his tail, ready to say “Hi!”

My stepson sat in the van to help with any separation anxiety, but Max was a total pro.

He jumped right in, got on the table, and knew exactly what to do. His only complaint? Toenail trimming.
3/4

After some research, I went with the mobile groomer our neighbor raved about. He does an amazing job on her Poms. We had a chance to chat beforehand, and I immediately felt at ease.

2/4

Screen back in. Dog calm. Nerves frazzled. We survived.

Takeaway:
It’s still too soon to separate Max from my stepson for even short errands.

We’re learning. One Thursday at a time.

And here is Max today. Disappointed that I won’t share my cheese with him.
🧵🪡

10/11
They come home an hour later, full of retail adventure stories. Max is beside himself with joy.

Hubby casually asks, “So how’d it go?” I just stare at him. He didn’t even notice the screen pop out…right in front of him.
🧵🪡

9/11
I finally get Max settled, then move him to the one place I know he’ll chill: my stepson’s room. He climbs onto the bed, curls up, and calms down.

I sit in the desk chair, read my book, and wait.
🧵🪡

8/11
Before I can grab him, Max’s head and shoulders are out the window. I barely get his collar (which, of course, is loose). Slam the window, drag him to his platform.

Yell to Hubby and gardener: “Move away from the window!”
🧵🪡

7/11
I run for treats, thinking I’ll tell my husband to move it along. When I return, Max is scrabbling at the screen, pops it right out.

Only barrier left? A sheer curtain.
🧵🪡

6/11
Barking. Whining. Paw-planted at the front window, refusing to move. Then chaos: the gardener shows up and chats with my husband right outside.

Max considers the gardener his mortal enemy. Volume cranks to 100.
🧵🪡

5/11
So I suggested they ask my stepson if Max could stay home with me, since he was tired. Stepson agreed.

They head out.

Max loses it.
🧵🪡

4/11
My stepson wanted to go shopping. My husband wasn’t sure about bringing Max (who wears a Service Dog in training vest, but we’re still figuring that part out.)

Getting Max into a store is chaos: whining, leash pulling, overstimulated mess.
🧵🪡

3/11
Max had already been on a long morning walk and was zooming around the trainer’s yard during the chat.

We finally got to training—three reps in, Max flopped. Tired. Fair enough. We took our homework and went home.
🧵🪡

2/11
My stepson, who doesn’t have many friends, adores the chatter. For him, “small talk” means a full medical history and life story.

Meanwhile, I was vibrating with impatience after 30 minutes. My brain was done before we even started.
🧵🪡

1/11
Morning started well. We all met with the dog trainer.

She’s got a gentle, grandmotherly vibe and is amazing with my stepson, who has a hearing disability. She also loves to chit chat.
🧵🪡