Monty and the old folks home

Today, The Guy and I took Montel to an old folks home.  Do they still call them that?  I guess the PC term would be something else.  But it's a place full of old people, so... Well, whatever.  We went to visit The Guy's Grandpa who is currently residing in the Veteran's wing of the local rehabilitation centre (the one for sick people not addicts).  The Guy's Grandpa has just turned 90 years old, has heart problems, a broken hip or something, and has been retired for longer than we've been alive.  Since he moved into the Vet's home, he has bounced back like you wouldn't believe and now I think he'll outlive us all.

Which, of course, means we have about 6 years left to live.  Prepare accordingly.

The point of the story is that we took Monty to visit the old people for the first time.  Vicki is an old pro at this old people thing.  She's visited numerous old people and now she lives with one which is like full time work.  Montel, he's not so much with the socializing.   Don't get me wrong, he likes people and stuff, but mostly so they can look at his awesome cache of toys (but don't touch them) and so he has a place to lean.  He's a little shy with people wanting to lean over him and pat him on the head, or really touch him in any way.

However, if you know anything about old people you would know their skin never stops growing they love dogs.  So I thought it would be good for man and beast to bring Monty out.  We picked a great day for it.  It was pouring rain.  We had to carry Monty into the building so he wouldn't be covered in mud.  By the time we got into the building, he was vibrating from excitement, nervousness, and/or seizures.

We arrived in the middle of snack time.  I cannot wait to be old -- they have lunch at noon, snack at 2 and supper at 4:30.  Snack time included ice cream, cookies, and bananas.  All the old people were squeezed into the lunch room and given a bowl of ice cream that would have made a toddler's eyes bug out.  They were then given plastic spoons and told to go to town.  This is where we found The Guy's Grandpa, with all his other vet cronies, doing their best to get most of the treat on their laps and the floor.

When one of the ladies spotted the dog, the ice cream was forgotten.  Heads turned and people squealed and called for Monty.  Monty was a little apprehensive at first, but once I had walked him around the room a bit, he realized why we were there.  To pick up the food off the floor, of course.  Montel galloped from table to table cleaning bits of cookie, ice cream (and a piece of cheese from God knows when) off the floor.  As he hoovered the floor bits, all the old people were able to pet him and gush over him.  He only got nervous once when he realized the wheels had blocked him in and there was no food in that area.

At one point, he put his front paws up on this one old guys lap and stuck his head down to be petted.  The old guy laughed and made silly noises we make to pets when we forget other people are around.  Eventually I realized Monty wasn't actually there for the petting.  Instead, he was busy eating the cookie off the old man's lap.  I pulled him away before he was charged with anything inappropriate.

We carried on back to the Grandpa's room and everyone stopped to gawk at Monty.  He was happily trotting along, completely unaware at the effect he was having on the group, smiling as though he thought we were going for more food.  Instead, we all got settled in Grandpa's room and Monty jumped up onto the bed beside him.  Typical.  Monty tends to sleep about 14 - 19 hours a day -- he thinks all flat surfaces are for him to lay on.

He did remarkably well.  He stayed with us the whole time and only barked once when the OT student made a squeaking noise at him when she patted his head.  Otherwise, he slept on my lap and just enjoyed the day.  He might make a good hospital dog yet.