Our Good Girl, Our Muse,
A tribute to Posie written by Abigail Wucherer
You know the excuse of “My dog ate my homework?” I never thought it would be Posie- the perfectly trained service dog who you could drop a hotdog in front of her in a restaurant and she wouldn’t touch it- would be the reason I had to tell my seventh grade teacher that the doll covered in icing on top of a cake I made for a book report project was in the service dog’s stomach. Luckily, I had a picture of the cake before Posie got a taste, and the vet provided the X-ray of Barbie nestled safely in Good Girl’s stomach.
I also remember the time my Mom made a birthday cake for our wonderful neighbors- a delicious chocolate cake with chocolate icing. Unlike the cake for my book report (which I placed on the kitchen floor in a box while I turned to pick up my backpack), this delicious chocolate cake was safely on the dining room table. After a few hours, the entire house smelled like chocolate cake, and it was time for my mom to deliver the cake. Upon closer inspection as my mom went to lift the cake, the entire backside of the cake was missing- crumbs licked clean. The four legged criminal mastermind had fled the scene of the crime, but also seemed just a little too guilty (and like she had a stomach ache). It was a miracle that she had managed to eat the cake off the dining room table, she didn’t die from the chocolate, and that she got to taste the cake before I did!
While most people knew Posie as the perfectly behaved angel she usually was, she was also a true Wucherer family member- always on the hunt for chocolate or cake or chocolate cake.
As Arin’s younger sister, I remember Arin and my mom going to pick up Posie from Boston when I was six years old, and I don’t really remember a life before Posie. Nearly every family trip- even international flights, birthday, graduation, restaurant, adaptive sports event, public bathroom, car ride, and therapy session that I remember going to growing up, Posie was there, and Arin had her arms around her neck, and my mom had a bag of treats in her pocket.
My room at home has a thin wall separating me from Arin and Posie’s room, and I vividly remember Arin talking to herself late at night- “Good girl so silly, good girl eat, good girl mine, good girl so silly…” Of course all I wanted to do was go to sleep, but instead I would listen to Arin talk about her favorite topics (a short list if you know Arin), and top of that list was often Good Girl.
I love that Good Girl will live out her legacy through this nonprofit she inspired, and the purpose, strength, and comfort she gave Arin, but I wish that we could share just how immeasurably crazy, inspiring, and loving she was.
Every morning, she’d jump on Arin’s bed growling like a pirate (how does a dog even growl like a pirate?) as she held her favorite stuffed animal in her mouth, followed by her running around the house to find other groggy family members to growl at and show off her dismembered stuffed animal. I wish you could see the way she ran into the kitchen if you opened the refrigerator drawer with the cucumbers and carrots. I wish you could see the poor stuffed animals that Posie regularly destuffed. I wish you could see how she knew which side of the hospital bed to jump on when a friend of Arin’s had a recent surgery, and she knew to avoid jumping near the injury. I wish you could see Posie rubbing her nose in the sand at Arin’s adaptive surfing clinics, or the snow at adaptive snow skiing.
I love that Good Girl was a best friend for Arin, but also my whole family- especially my mom. As cliche as it is, Posie was more than a family dog- she was the well behaved perfect child my mom wished her children would learn a thing or two from.
Posie taught us all what unconditional love was through her life of service. Whether Arin hugged her too tight (sometimes on the verge of strangling), or was there to comfort during very public meltdowns, or was accidentally stepped on as she laid in the middle of the heavily trafficked kitchen, Posie never made one sound of complaint, showed a single ounce of aggression, or any anger in her eyes. No amount of service training can teach that level of patience, only true love and a heart of gold.
If it wasn’t clear from my rambling, Posie means the world to me, my mom, Arin, my family, and our friends. It is with the heaviest heart that I share these stories, but I know she may live on through what she taught me and my family about resilience, love, and some tasty dog treats (mainly because the chocolate and cake consumption was not a sustainable diet).
Thank you for sharing in the love we have for Posie, our Good Girl, and we are committed to her legacy where we may share a fraction of the compassion she had for all.