I should be bouncing off the walls in sheer excitement, but the day I've been waiting for for 18 and a half months has ended up being an anti climax. Guide Dogs called with what they call good news. It was good news to me too until they started describing the dog. We've all seen on here how I was hoping for a cute little yellow bitch, but instead I get Calvin, boo hoo a boy, 36kg, boo hoo a giant, lab cross retriever, which I don't even know what colour he is. Probs black knowing my luck. Calvin! OMG! What a stupid name for a dog! Selina and Calvin…it just doesn't sound right. 36kg! I only weigh 43kg! There's the end of carrying him up and down escalators, we'll just have to be stranded.
According to the instructor it looks like a perfect match on paper. I have no idea what bit of paper she has, but my version is completely different. I was too upset to ask any questions other than the weight, so I'll find out more disappointing news no doubt on Thursday when I have my matching visit. I wonder what medical and spending issues he has. He best not be a slow coach and I won't be best pleased if they say he can't work in London.
All in all I'm an ungrateful cow and feel like Guide Dogs have it in for me! Roll on Thursday!