Mom and Dude were talking about going away for the weekend, and then they both looked at me and said, “What about Remi?” What about me? I thought to myself. After all the training and hard work, I’ve put in as a support dog, isn’t the whole point to be with them all the time? A bit annoyed, I started to think that all my efforts were going unnoticed. I mean, I’ve come a long way, Dude—learning to handle myself in almost every situation, though I still get rattled around other dogs, mean people, and those old loud cars. But no one's perfect, right?
I couldn’t bear to listen any longer, so I walked away from their conversation. I found my bed, curled up, and pretended to sleep, but inside, I was fuming. I couldn’t believe it. This Dude had come into our lives, moved me away from everything familiar, and now they were planning a trip without me. What did I do wrong?
As I lay there, I heard Mom’s voice call, “Remi.” I figured they’d had a change of heart, so I ran back to find her. She smiled and said, “Hey Remi! Do you want to spend the weekend with Auntie Donna and Uncle Mike? Tigger, Gus, and your brother Colt will all be there!”
Well, of course, I did! I wagged my tail with excitement and ran straight to the door, ready to go. Who needed their weekend getaway? My weekend with my family was going to be way better!
We arrived at Auntie Donna and Uncle Mike’s house, and I couldn’t wait to see everyone. The moment Mom opened the car door, I jumped out and darted toward the house. Auntie Donna opened the door, and I rushed in like I owned the place, feeling great… until I ran into Tigger. Whelp. I had forgotten who the presumed alpha was around here—Tigger. He’s always a little snappy about his space, so I calmed myself down.
I greeted Gus, but as usual, he wanted to go outside immediately. It seemed like nothing had changed—his 15 minutes were up, and he needed to relieve himself. I heard Mom calling goodbye, but I was already halfway out to the backyard with Tigger and Gus, eager to share all my new adventures.
As we wandered outside, I told them all about my training and how Dude had taught me to walk properly and sit on command.
Gus, always laid back, gave me a confused look. “You learned how to walk and sit? Can’t you do that on your own? Is Dude training you for the National Dog Show or something?”
I blinked, “What’s the National Dog Show?”
“The National Dog Show,” Gus explained, “is where dogs show off their skills—walking, sitting, climbing, doing tricks like rolling over, jumping through hoops, all that fancy stuff. Don’t you remember Auntie Donna and your mom watching it on TV every year?”
“Oh,” I said, realizing that I might have seen it before but never paid attention.
Tigger chimed in, “Remi, Dude is a professional dog trainer. They’re probably getting you ready for the National Dog Show.”
“No way!” I exclaimed, feeling a mix of disbelief and panic. I hadn’t signed up for that! I was fine being a support dog and learning obedience, but the National Dog Show? That was way beyond what I thought I was capable of.
Then I remembered something Dude had once said during one of our long walks. We had stopped by the pond, and he’d looked out over the water. I sat beside him, waiting for the next command, but he hadn’t said anything. Instead, he looked down at me and smiled, “You’ve come a long way, Remi. You’ve got a lot more in you than you think.”
Now, I realized what he meant—he saw potential in me that I hadn’t yet seen in myself.
Just then, my brother Colt arrived, and of course, Tigger couldn’t keep quiet. He told Colt everything, and they all started laughing at me. Feeling embarrassed, I walked over to the patio door, wanting to go inside and get away from their teasing. I needed time to think. Was this all true? Was I really being trained for something as big as the National Dog Show?
As the afternoon went on, Tigger and Gus kept smirking and making comments about my "future stardom." But Colt, ever the wise and steady brother, pulled me aside. “Little brother, don’t let them get to you. If you do end up at the National Dog Show, those two will be jealous because you’ve done something they haven’t. But even if you don’t, remember, you’re doing great, and I’m proud of you. Our birth mom would be too. Relax and embrace whatever adventures come your way. You never know where they might lead.”
Colt doesn’t say much, but when he does, it’s always worth listening to. His words calmed me down, and I started to see things differently. Maybe all this training wasn’t just about obedience—it could be about something bigger, about growing into the best version of myself. And if that meant taking on new challenges, then so be it.
Colt and I sat together for a while, and he reminded me that being trained to be a better support dog was a good thing. “Change is good,” he said. “It means you’re growing. Not everyone gets the chance to grow like you have, Remi. That’s why some people—or dogs—get jealous instead of being happy for others. But you’re doing great, and we’re all proud of you, even if we like giving you a hard time.”
By the end of the weekend, Gus and Tigger had stopped teasing me as much, mostly because I had learned to ignore them. When Sunday came and Mom and Dude arrived to pick me up after their weekend away, I was ready to go home, feeling more at peace. Sure, the idea of competing in a National Dog Show still seemed overwhelming, but I realized that, whatever came my way, I’d be ready for it. I was growing, learning, and finding new ways to be useful, and that felt good.
Whether I end up in a show or just continue being the best support dog I can be, I know one thing for sure: I’ve got a lot more in me than I ever thought possible. And that’s something to be proud of.
As we headed home, I snuggled into the backseat, feeling at peace with whatever the future held. I realized that sometimes, we just have to embrace the unknown and trust that we’re on the right path.
So, the National Dog Show? Who knows. But for now, I’m happy just being me—Remi, the support dog with a little more purpose every day.
Later, friends! Remember, peace comes from embracing the journey, not worrying about where it will take you. I’m off to enjoy some belly rubs and relax after a fun weekend.
Thank you for being a part of this journey with me! Remember, whether you’re a human or a dog, we’re all in this together. Keep seeking out the good things in life, and always remember to enjoy the ride. If you’d like to keep this adventure going and support our mission to help others, please subscribe!
Until next time, friends—woof! 🐾
I'm thrilled to share my latest venture with you: 'Rediscovering Vancouver.' This book encompasses my journey, from childhood memories to remarkable encounters with Johnny Depp, Michael Bublé, and a Chinese Revolutionary. The editing process was captivating - I couldn't put my own stories down. The book is now available on Amazon, so if you're interested, grab your copy and join me in this incredible adventure!