Sunday, 29 June 2014

8. The Helping Dog

I am cheered no end by the arrival of my sister and her friend, who have taken their van across the Channel to do a bit of East Sussex countryside breathing of their own. The friend runs a school that trains Helping Dogs for people with disabilities.

She has brought along one of her students, the aptly named Bravo.

From where I am sitting, Bravo looks ready to graduate. I wouldn't mind borrowing him for the remainder of 2014. Once I'm crippled by chemo, I'm sure I can make good use of a dog who can answer door bells and bring me the remote control (or even find it for me - anticipating Chemo Brain).

This particular Helping Dog looks promising in more ways than one. He owns the most glorious tail, which would do nicely as my very first wig. It's even got a side parting.

Who could resist my Cruella de Vil look?

Do the services of Helping Dogs stretch to hair replacement for soon-to-be-bald cancer patients?

Bravo, indeed.

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