Jam: Not Being Helpful

Some days there are themes.  Today's theme was Unhelpfulness. Really, Word dictionary? Unhelpfulness isn't a word and helpfulness is?  Yet there is an unhelpful.  You, Jam were unhelpful today.

Take for example, when I got up and left Jam sleeping.  Snoring actually, during the full study hall this morning.  Sure, I had hooked his leash to my chair instead of the table, but that was such a small mistake.   What harm could there be in that?  And after all, he had been so good in his stays.  Letting me go into the workroom and grab a bottle of water or pick up some paper.

I stepped over the sleeping guide dog puppy and walked into the library workroom to ask my question.  Unfortunately, that led to another question and then another.  

BAM!

I ran out into the library to see the table next to mine, which had been filled with freshman boys all standing but one.  The one was laid out with his legs extended to my former chair where he was pressing down with all his leg strength. Jam was on a tie down to that chair and was at the end of it.

In front of Jam were two upper classmen (Alison and Caleb) who told me that Jam and the chair, which, by the 47th law of physics that states that things tied to you will follow if you are strong enough to drag them, had woken up and tried to find me.  Alison and Caleb it should be noted were surrounding Jam but more importantly they were not touching Jam BECAUSE HE HAD HIS COAT ON.

So, my unhelpful guide dog puppy in training had put in action several students who had followed all the rules and been supremely successful in stopping Jam and holding him steady where he was and not violating the sanctity of the coat. 8-)

I love my students.  They are so wonderful.  I quickly relieved the freshman boy as he seemed close to expiring.  Then Jam and I took a walk.

Later, Christina and I started a weeding project.  We were trying to determine whether we had 90 feet of shelving weeded or if we still needed more books to weed.  So we were measuring with ribbon.

Jam at my feet licking the ribbon.

As we were walking around the shelves measuring and letting the ribbon flutter behind us, Jam would wait for a big curl to fall and then he would go to sleep on it as if it were a treasure to be protected with his body.  Soon enough we would come to a screeching halt as his body weight would hold us in place.

"Jam!"

Jam at my feet while Christina and I measure out the ribbon.

Sleepy, blurry, doe eyes looking up at us.  So if unhelpful isn't a word and if Jam wasn't particularly helpful, then what happened?

Wait a minute.  Wasn't there some old trope about letting sleeping dogs lie? But didn't I do that this morning? Maybe, for Jam, it's more about, sure, let the sleeping dogs lie, but make darn sure you are there when they wake up!

Puppies and Babies

By Fred

There may be a lack of consensus about which is cuter: a puppy or a baby. Parents with new-born children cannot be trusted to give an honest opinion--they suffer from a lack of sleep. On the other hand, a small puppy is more like to receive praise and attention from total strangers, and puppy-raisers believe every word.

Sometimes these opposing camps come together, and the cuteness quotient can reach a dangerous level. We saw such an encounter at the Symphony Under the Stars this weekend, when Stephanie's puppy, Coastie, met up with a baby challenger in the crowd. Which one is cuter? Here's a picture of the winner consoling the runner-up.

Of course, Jam used to be one of these very small and cute puppies--there was a time when we couldn't eat at restaurants because people would stop by to stare at him--but now he is often ignored by the general public, especially when babies and small puppies are present, and we worry about his self-esteem. Here he is, being consoled by Cheryl.

Earlier in the day, we had a good time and a good meal at a tail-gate party in the parking lot. Like always, these are some of the nicest people in the world.

Several of the guide dogs puppies were there, including Mars, a new chocolate lab being raised by John. I believe Mars is the most sincere looking creature I've ever seen.

Yes, puppies are cuter than babies.

A Model of Perfection

Jam was a different dog on Friday.  Of course we had our walk! And we had a more casual day as it was the Senior-kindergartner picnic and all school convo, which is always exciting.

  

Jam relaxing on the gym floor during the all school convo.

Jam was very well behaved during the convo.  Except for that one moment when he flipped over on his back and waved his legs in the air like a drunken octopus.  Oh, yeah, was that during the lower division choir's song?  Was that when the headmaster looked over in our general direction?  

I quickly captured what seemed to be Jam's 23 legs and shoved him under my legs and next to the bleachers where he stayed in a down position for the remainder of the convo.

Jam at a Bonefish Grill high top table.  He's underneath looking out at the public.

That evening we decided that we would go out for dinner to celebrate the weekend and we headed over to Bonefish Grill, which seems to be the only restaurant capable of making mussels.  We sat outside at a high top table, which would be a new experience for Jam.

At first he was a little fussy, but he is really great out at restaurants and he settled down quickly.  What should have been disturbing to an intact 12 month old puppy was the silly Pomeranian dog that another customer had brought to the restaurant and was feeding at her chair.  Yes, she was taking food off her plate and putting it on a smaller plate for her dog and feeding him right there in front of my dog.

Jams head is that the lower right of the photo.  There is a small Pomeranian at the top left of the photo.  There is also a lady sitting on a chair giving Jam the stink eye.  She owns the pom.  

Jam didn't care.  The more that lady gave Jam the stink eye, the more he turned his classic lab profile slightly to the left and did a Brad Pitt.  Meaning everyone who walked by immediately saw Jam and said, "OOOOOH how beautiful!" (He is quite striking.) And no one paid her little dog any attention.

That's it Jam.  When faced with evil, small dogs who are being fed from the table, take relief in the zen of your inner beauty.

How I love him, my buddha lab.

A Lesson Learned

Thursday was one of those busy days.  A day you just can't predict.  You think you have it all prepared, but then it goes INSANE.  

Usually, Jammy and I walk into school, past the speeding students and their sometimes equally speed demon parents and I was thinking about the morning's schedule.  MUN (Model United Nations club) had a Frosty sale at lunch.  We had never attempted this before and it was uncharted territory.  I needed to leave right before lunch and go with one of the senior students to Wendy's to pick 200 frosties and then get them back on campus in time to sell before the kids got out for lunch at 12:30.  And I had a lunch meeting to review student library proctor candidates with my head and assistant head student library proctors at 12:35.

But first I had a ton of grading to do.  That meant sitting on the main floor of the library and grading the works cited as I also kept an eye on what was going on around me.  They call it multitasking. Librarians are whizzes at it.  Usually Jam and I have our morning walk at 10 when we go to convocation, but we didn't go to convocation on Thursday for some reason.  I don't know why.  Perhaps I got caught up in my grading.  For whatever reason, we had a pee break, went back to work and about the time I needed to fly out to the Wendy's, I left Jammy with Christina.

Jammy is sitting in front of Christina in the library workroom with his head tilted to the right.

 He wasn't quite sure what was going on, but he knew something was up.  I was a bit stressed about the whole deal.  Alex and I drove to Wendy's and when we got there, we found only one person working the cash register.  All I needed to do was go up and ask for Charlie, but since there were three people ahead of me in line, I could very well barge up and say, "I just need Charlie, now, get outta my way!" and have them get all up in my face about cutting in line and being there first.  Especially when I had a student with me.

So, I patiently stood in line.  Right.  I stood in line, but NOT patiently.  I was toe tapping and looking around and trying to figure out which person back there was Charlie, because the minute I identified him, I was going to laser beam him over to me.  Seriously, what was he thinking putting only one person on the counter at lunchtime?

And then the VERY WORST THING HAPPENS: coupon lady appears.  I was next in line.  I was so close.  There was this blonde in front of me and she had just started to order when her friend comes out of the bathroom and steps up next to her.  (Oh yes, she did, and her purse was big and filled with coupons.) The blonde turns to her friend and says, "What do you want?"

Well, I wanted to poke her friend's eyes out.  But that was before her friend pulled out the ginormous wad of coupons. The old lady behind the register, who you know is on her third day at Wendy's, lets out a little moan.  "I don't know how to do coupons!"

"Oh. My. Freaking. God." But I say this inside my head where a little mini me is screaming and pulling out big tufts of hair.  "I just need to talk to Charlie!  I don't even need any food!!!!  Where the hell is Charlie?!!!"

So, three-day-old cashier says, "Charlie, I need some help!  I don't know how to do coupons."  And this tall man comes over and I try to laser beam him with my eyes, but it doesn't work.  The coupon lady has him in her talons.  She is throwing all this coupons on the counter and talking in coupon gibberish.  It's like Klingon for Trekkies only you get food as a reward.

Sure enough, Charlie starts punching buttons and things beep and three-day-old cashier watches with her big eyes as it goes in one ear and out the other.  Charlie looks up and I laser beam him again.

"Hi, I'm from Berkeley.  I have the 200 frosties."

"Oh yeah. They are out back.  Have you paid yet?"  I look at coupon lady.  She looks back at me and offers me a coupon.  "No thank you. No, I haven't yet."

"Well, let's do that and get you out back to get your frosties."

So we pay and go out back and he has 7 boxes of frosties to go in my Honda fit.  Mind you, we brought 3 coolers to put the frosties in, because we were told to bring coolers.  But the Honda Fit will fit a full size llama in it, I kid you not!

Photo of a Honda fit with a llama in the back seat.  The head is poked out the window.

And you didn't believe me.  I think sometimes, dear reader, you think I drift into hyperbole!

Anyway, back to the story, we here we have three coolers and 7 boxes of frosties and the frosties are melting and they are all very precariously placed in the boxes, not tightly placed or snugly placed, but loosely placed with room to move and dance around.  And did I mention that the tops are pretty open?  So they can slosh out if they feel like it?  Yea.  Great.

I'm really relaxed about this whole thing.  Oh, and Alex.  He's about 6'5".  No worries.  We'll make it.  You know how I drive right?  I can handle this.  I can drive really slow and take turns in a calm manner.

Quit laughing.

We make it to the school.  We sell the frosties.  I make my meeting.  We select SLPs.  The upshot is that Jammy is without a walk for a long time.  I am bushed and completely stressed and drained.  So when I take him back, I just go into my office with him.  I go into my office, because there is a speaker in the library who is currently speaking to 65 fifth graders on how her family emigrated from Cuba to America, which is a serious subject.

I sit in my chair and I lean over to Jam and I reach down and start to remove his coat.  This signals to Jam that play time as started.  And since he has been cooped up ALL DAY in the office, why should he spend one minute more in MY OFFICE?  So, he takes off. And because he is a big boy and doesn't run off, I didn't have him on a tie down.

SO HE CAN.

AND HE DOES.

Do you know about the puppy crazies?  Labs are particularly infected with them.  They will kick up their heels and then it's like their back legs spin in circles they move so fast.  Jam was GONE.  He was naked and gone.  I leaped up and was out in the library and every high schooler was staring out towards where the speaker was because of course, that's where Jam went.

He ran right to the back of the library.  Past all the high school kids and the tables, past the books.  Into the second study area and there was the big open space with 65 fifth graders.  Here was the big open space for Jam to do some wheelies.

And so he did.

Several of them.  To the delight of every one of the 65 fifth graders who had turned around to watch him pop a wheelie.

By this time, I had made it back to where he was and he saw me.  Jam blew past me to the left and went through the Spanish teacher's legs (his wife, a professor at USF was our speaker).  Jam danced around the tables and weaved in and out of the chairs as students and library personnel tried to reach out and grab him.  All us not saying a word, in deference to the speaker, who was still speaking.

It all came to an end for Jammy when he got close to Clay, a junior, who knows all of Jam's tricks.  Clay reached out and grabbed him and caught him.

There was a huge sigh of relief.

And a lesson learned.  No matter what.  Never skip the morning walk!!!

Oh, My Poor Ego!

I was so excited today.  As I was walking to convocation, the head of admissions stopped me and said that she wanted to take a photo of me and Jam after convo.  They had a photographer out and were taking photos for admissions materials.

"We should be here (by the benches), but if we aren't we will stop by the library." She said.

I was so excited.  I had never been in any admissions photos, I don't think any of the library staff had been.  This was so exciting!  They always chose other teachers for that kind of thing. I was thinking about my outfit and that my hair actually came out nice and curly today.  Convo went by in a blur.  Such is the curse of a huge head of celebrity.

As I walked to where they were taking photos, Jam saw Mrs. Iglehart and her ambassador dog Jessie in the distance and started to bark.  We waited until he calmed down before walking any closer to the photographer.  

"Hi, I'm CD."  I extended my hand to the photographer.  

"Hi, I'm..." I wasn't listening because Jam pulled and I turned to get him under control again.  I smiled back at the photographer.  "Can you have the dog sit right over here with his back to the students?  Not too much in the sun though."

"Oh."  I paused and looked down at Jam.  He was resplendent in his labrador glory. So handsome. "Of course I can.  He sits beautifully."

Jam, sitting on Stephanie's rug when she was puppy sitting him.

I had Jam do a sit stay, which he did perfectly and of course he was a handsome boy.  I remained off to the side with my hand out saying, "Stay. Stay."  

Inside my head I was saying, "Fool, fool."

Great Expectations, Final Chapter

Final Chapter

Years passed, and Willow suffered through more puppies, though with a mindset always pointed to the future and to a greater purpose, always preparing them for the tough life ahead while remembering one central point: like children, all puppies deserve to be happy.

On more than one occasion she wondered about her old friend Jam and how he was doing as a guide dog. She allowed herself to swell up with pride, knowing that his success was her success, even if no one else would ever know.

Then one day, while resting in her favorite spot, a warm set of stones near the fish ponds, eyes closed and dreaming of things past, she felt a slight tickle on her nose. There was her old friend Jam, ready to tour the yard as though he had never left.

Great Expectations, Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Nothing was more familiar, more welcome, than that rush of adrenaline, and nothing was better than sharing the moment with your best friend, sniffing in that common scent, twitching and bracing to jump up together and run when the time was right to best surprise the squirrel and provide for him the most terrifying moment of his existence.

But Willow realized, in just that instant, that this game could not continue as before, not if she hoped to ever prepare Jam for his future of great expectations. With a sigh she turned away and slumped to the ground, feeling the full weight and dispair of her decision and leaving Jam perplexed as to what to do next.

Great Expectations, Chapter 4

Chapter 4

On the notion of Sit, Jam had mixed feelings, not about its meaning but about its intent, because it never resolved to a better condition or mastery of the moment. No, it seemed to have no purpose at all except to earn praise and move things along to a desired result--to go outside or to get some food or to engage in any other activity not performed better by sitting beforehand, or after, as far as he could figure.

Still, he knew the word from his puppyhood and responded to it reflexively. Willow knew a few other such words, and she went through each of them twice or three times, with Jam responding as he should, until at the end the two dogs sat and stared at each other in silence, not sure what to do next.

Then a distraction appeared. Squirrel?

---

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3

Great Expectations, Chapter 3

Chapter 3

In no time Jam had become Jam again, the notions of his future life already evaporated from his mind. But Willow could not put aside the frog's words because somehow he had known part of the truth. He had known what happens every summer; that her companions always leave home to pursue greater expectations while she does not.

So when Jam returned to her with a playful nudge, Willow resolved to tell him the truth, at least to the meager extent that she knew it--she had only seen Bingo once since he left two years ago (and he had not been forthcoming about his new situation) and she had not seen Berkeley at all (and did not regret the fact). Could it be that the frog actually spoke the truth, as fantastical as it seemed? If so, even if true only in a small portion, she knew what must be done.

"You'll be going to school soon, a very demanding school," Willow said, though Jam's attention had already shifted to activity in the koi pond. She then told Jam what she imagined about his future, interpreting what the late frog had said (if such things are really possible), about how Jam would have more responsibility than seems wise to give to any dog, particularly to one with such a capricious nature.

She devised a plan to help prepare him for the future. "In short," she said to him with a sigh, "you must become a common dog before you can be an uncommon one."

On hearing the details, Jam rose up and agreed to take seriously Willow's new plan, where she would play the future headmaster and Jam the attentive pupil.

"Were do we begin?" he asked.

Willow considered this for a moment, realizing that she had no idea about where to begin, or to end for that matter.

"Sit!" she said decisively.

---

Chapter 1
Chapter 2

Great Expectations, Chapter 2

By Charles Dickens
Chapter 2

And so the frog continued, now speaking directly to Jam with a certain impatience, as if he considered Jam a fool for the look of breathless curiosity and surprise on his face. "It is considered that you must be better educated, in accordance with your altered position, and that you will be alive to the importance and necessity of at once entering on that advantage."

As the details emerged about the nature of his future life, his training and his expectations, Jam was increasingly lost in the mazes of his future fortunes, now fully removed from the adventure that he and Willow had pursued just a few seconds earlier.

Willow, on the other hand, fell into a kind of stupor and attempted to close her ears, attempted to wind back the clock just a few minutes and continue on to the pond with her friend Jam as if this frog had not appeared and his terrible words not spoken.

The frog continued to speak until Willow had reached her limit; she lunged forward in a flash, her white teeth severing the toad in mid-sentence and leaving his dismembered legs twitching on the stone patio floor.

Only seconds after it was over, Jam could scarcely remember the event--what the frog had said, how the frog had been eaten, or even if there had been a frog at all.

Great Expectations, Chapter 1

By Charles Dickens
Chapter 1
Willow and Jam took a perfectly ordinary tour of the pond, and as usual with all the wonder and amazement of seeing it for the first time, when they came upon something truly new and unusual: a talking frog that did not seem at all afraid or tempted to retreat.

Startled by such a brave and small animal, the two dogs sat back in amazement, and their wonder only grew when the frog began to speak.

"Hear now, pay attention, you two," said the frog throwing out his tongue impulsively and bringing it quickly back.

"Bear in mind, will you?" the frog said to Willow, as if forgiving her something and then pointing his webby thumb at Jam, "that my business is with him."

"I am instructed to communicate to him," the frog continued, "that he will soon be removed from his present sphere of life and from this place, and be brought up as a gentleman,--in a word, as a young fellow of great expectations."

Jam and Willow gasped, and looked at one another...

Tic Tac Toe and Tequila

Saturday was our puppy meeting at Largo Central Park.  I don't have many photos as Fred was at home repairing plaster and painting the hallway and I had sole control over Captain Crazypants.

Anyway, we arrived at the park just fine.  But, I have to tell you.  These monthly meetings are becoming a a bit stressful for me, especially if I go by myself.  Jam and his nuggets are really having a testosterone party and he is quite drunk with hormones.  So, coming to a meeting is like bringing an alcoholic to Tijuana, leading him into a bar, sitting him on a barstool where there are shots of tequila lined up on the bar and then screaming, "Don't Drink!"

The alcoholic will find it tough to listen to you.

So, I bring Jam (and his raging hormones) to the park where lush females and unneutered males will be gathered to challenge his sensibilities.

I'll just go ahead and say it.  We weren't in the circle of acceptance.  We tried, but we got booted pretty fast.

Sigh. We did obedience, then went by the train and at the end of the meeting we played Tic Tac Toe.  I had Jam sit out the first game.  Yellows won.

Everyone was looking at us.  Jam had to play the next game.  Could he do it and not completely muck it up?

You know, at some point, you just have to say, fine.  OK.  I will be the one with the insane dog.  I walked  Captain Crazypants over to the box and he laid down.

And he stayed.

OMG.

Cheryl and Jam walking to Tic Tac Toe box Photo by Michele Reese.

Cheryl asking Jam to stay in a down on Tic Tac Toe box Photo by Michele Reese. 

Jam maintaining the stay on Tic Tac Toe box Photo by Michele Reese. 

Where's my tequila?  I need a drink!

Stephanie's Boot Camp

Jammy sitting and smiling for Aunt Stephanie.

Jam has been spending his week at fellow puppy raiser Stephanie's house.  Or as she calls it, Aunt Stephanie's Boot Camp.  I secretly think that there may be some spa time in there as well as I got a text about some pool time, but I think Stephanie wants to keep up the tough front!

This is a sleepy Jam in Aunt Stephanie's car.  

Jam seems to be awfully relaxed on the commute in to work.  That's a good thing.  I would hope that he is being a good boy while at Aunt Stephanie's work.

Jammy sitting by Aunt Stephanie's dog statue.  Jam is now taller than the statue.  

He seems to be a little more perky once he gets to Aunt Stephanie's actual office as the photo above shows, but then, some serious naptime occurs.

Jam curled up in a deep sleep sans coat.

On Thursday, Jam and Aunt Stephanie participated in the Indy 500 parade.  You can tell they are simpatico because they both have the Jammy head tilt going on.  They are on the far right.  Stephanie is tilting to the left and Jam to the right.

Here is a shot of Jam at one of Stephanie's meetings.  He is fully asleep.  This was the day after the parade.

Here's a shot of Jam being helpful during a basket weaving class.  Hmmm.  Yeah.

Jam and Aunt Stephanie at Moccasin Lake Nature Park.

Jam ends his busy day like so many of his days, with a deep sleep.  Go Jammy, go!

Tomorrow's the last day of boot camp for Jammy and then he goes for a day to Aunt Carolyn.  But Santa Fe goodies will be coming for Stephanie and Carolyn as thank you presents for taking care of our little demon.  Keeping Aunt Stephanie happy is a good thing! And making sure you have a happy AC who helps you out in a pinch is also a good thing.  It's great to have such a supportive puppy raiser group.  And it helps to have a really cute puppy.  But then, aren't they all?

The Inspection

By Fred
While this week we on vacation in Sante Fe, walking around in sub-freezing temperatures and snow, Jam is having fun and relaxing with Stephanie. She sends us pictures, and we are reminded of how much we miss him and Willow, just after three days...

Jam has been improving steadily in all areas, in particular with his separation anxiety. We can now leave him alone without him making a fuss. Almost always. But he had a bad episode last week.

We've had some work around the house, and some inspectors were scheduled to come by on Thursday to give their blessing. I knew that I'd be outside with them for 10 or 15 minutes, so I put Jam in the crate with his peanut-butter infused Kong, something that has been working really well lately, but this time he would have none of it. Maybe Jam could sense my anxiety at the inspection. After all, we have this weird wire coming out of the fuse box--I could just imagine the inspectors making me re-wire the entire house. I get nervous about stuff like this.

Or maybe it was my body language. Maybe I was walking too fast, or maybe my voice had a scared-little-boy quiver to it. In any case, Jam knew something was not right, and he spit out the Kong and stared at me as I closed the crate door. Then, with incredibly bad timing, the door bell rang. Jam started doing his little dance. I walked away and said to him in a calm voice, "Be a good boy." He didn't cry, though, so I assumed he was OK.

About 10 minutes later, the inspection was over (we passed). I opened the kitchen door and there sat Jam waiting for me. In the next room I could see his crate, and the door was open and his precious yummy Kong was still there, untouched. Somehow he has learned how to open the door. Fortunately he can do it without hurting himself.

Coincidentally, Willow had a vet appointment later that afternoon. (She's fine.) Considering my options, I chose to take Jam along to see Dr. Woodman and discuss the crate episode. Dr. Woodman suggested that Jam must have picked up on my behavior and sensed that I was nervous. Looking back on it, I believe that's what happened.

Since Jam has been doing so well, since he has shown such improvement lately, and since he has been about 95% successful at staying in the crate, it is disappointing to have a setback and then to write about it (especially when the setback was my fault). But, as we've learned, the guide dog trainers need to know these details so they can be prepared to handle the dogs when they come in for training.

The process continues, and we continue to learn.

Public Displays of Affection

Tomorrow we leave for Santa Fe and a high of 34 degrees.  Mom and Dad are here to babysit Willow and Jam will be off with Stephanie for some puppy raiser loving.  We, however, will be dogless and, according to the weather channel, freezing our a**es off in the high desert.

It wasn't that cold the last two times we went.  Fortunately, we checked before we left.  However, this meant that we needed to go to Bill Jackson's to pick up some cold weather gear, because Fred and I are pretty much babies when it comes to cold weather. WE LIVE IN FLORIDA! How can we not be?  Honestly, it gets down to 79 and I get a chill.  

"Uh, why is it so cold?  Where is my sweater?"  Seriously thin blood, people.  So we load up the car with Jam and my mom and dad and head out.

Outside of Bill Jackson's store.

Bill Jackson's is full of everything you need if you are going into the wilderness.  We aren't, but we act as if we are.  (Babies, I tell you!)  But first as every good puppy raiser knows, before you go into any building, you give your puppy a chance to busy.

Fred and Jam walking in the parking lot. Looks like a wild place, doesn't it?

 Now the parking lot of Bill Jackson's is essentially wild Florida.  Or, how do I say it, palmetto bushes, scrub pines and who knows what else all hidden by a thick layer of fallen leaves.  The photo above shows Jam and Fred walking down one of the paths to busy.  Jam took a quick pee, but I saw the gopher butt.

"Fred, he has to poo. It's 10:30.  It's a 10 o'clock poo." I said.

"He hasn't done a 10 o'clock poo in ages."  Fred responded.  I was adamant. That WAS a gopher butt.  I was positive.  So doubting Thomas gave me the leash and Jam and I proceeded to walk the wild ways of the parking lot.  Nothing.

"Listen, buddy, I know you have to poo.  Just do it."  I am staring at his butt.  I did not mistake the signs.  Bill Jackson's is carpeted.  There is no way I am going in there with a potential poo inside Jam.  Jam is a poo circler, meaning he can't poo without twirling in a circle at least twice, if not three times.  He much prefers to poo in a hidden spot, surrounded by bushes.  That meant braving the palmettos.  He didn't much care for that.  We finally found the spot.  He twirled.  Success.

I was correct!

Jam lying on the floor looking up at me.  On his left is a box of socks.  On his right are some skis.

Once inside I started looking for a fleece and long underwear.  Jam walked along beside me with little interest in things until we got to the ski department.  Then, he really got interested.  For in the ski department was a box of socks.  Heaven in a box.  At first he acted like he didn't care and we walked right up to them.  It was his famous fake out.  At the last possible second, he whips his head around and jerks a sock out of the box.  

Success! He thinks.  

Oh no you didn't! I yank the sock out of his mouth and we immediately do a down stay in front of the box.

Looking down on Jam's head as he stares down the box of socks.

Then we walk away and come back.  I let him get close and try for a sock and get a correction. Once, twice.  Down stay.  Having an addiction is hard!  But he maintained the down stay.  Good boy.

Then we went looking for polar fleeces.  I took him with me to the sale room in the very back.  The way back.  Far away from anyone else back.

In this back room there are really low hanging racks of jackets and coats and pants, etc.  All the fancy ski and outdoor kinds of gear that you would expect Bill Jackson's to carry.  I even saw a jacket in there for $1200, marked down 50%.  Fancy stuff.  Fancy material that did amazing things.

The room was packed with sale clothes and the rows were pretty narrow.  So Jam and I went down the rows looking for jackets or sweaters or fleeces that would meet my budget (not $600) and needs (30 degrees) for a week long trip to Santa Fe.  I started to notice that Jam was hugging the clothing side of the row kind of close as we came out of one aisle.  We started down another.  Then as we turned around, I noticed a hunching.

OMG!!  Hunching!?  He just poo'd.  He doesn't have any more.  This is crazy.  Do I pick him up? Jam is rubbing his side against the slick jackets.  I go to pick him up and realize...

JAM IS EXCITED.

This is quite a different problem.  Now I look around and I am surrounded by slick, shining fabric that is suddenly very dangerous and seductive for my easily seduced little puppy.  I mean I did say the fabric did amazing things, but come on now!  

Oh Jammy!  What am I to do?  

I pull Jam into the center of the aisle where he can't touch any fabric and as no actual humping has occurred and we are in the way back and no one has seen anything I think we may get out of this with our dignity intact.  I pull in the leash.  

"Jam, forward!"  We march forward as fast as possible as through the room of sensuous fabrics and I turn Jam over to Fred.

"I can't shop with him."  I say.  Under my breath I add, "Too much PDA."

Jam looks longingly into the room we just vacated.  That will be his last visit to Bill Jackson's.  I hope it was a good memory.

Classes, Classes and More Classes

A day in the life of Jam.  January and February are my busiest class days in the library.  There are Chemistry research videos, World History research papers, Health glogs to research, and US History and Government classes to help with there papers as well.  All in all it is a busy two months for us in the library and means traveling to classrooms to teach, giving classes in the library, lots of grading works cited pages or annotated works cited.  But it's all good, because the goal is to teach students how to be savvy web users.

If it is a Jam day, he will come with me to class.  

Jam lying down looking up at me as I set up my computer for class.

 Usually, he is pretty interested in anything I have to do on the screen.  If there is a mouse involved, he will follow the mouse on the screen, which the kids find amusing.

Jam is sitting in front of the screen where a presentation is set to begin.

 Most of the time, though, Jam is not thoroughly impressed with my lectures.

Jam lying down and considering his kong.

 So he will think about playing with his kong.  Usually though, he takes another route.

Jam completely zonked out.

 He sleeps through my classes.

Jam and Christina in front of the reference books.

 Sometimes we have classes in the library because the kids will need actual books.  Amazing!  Or, they might need to make a copy of something.  Sometimes, the teacher just wants to get out of the classroom. 8-)

Jam at lunch with his friend, English teacher Caroline with her new baby Maggie.

 At lunch we usually go outside to the arboretum and eat, so I can take his coat off and let him relax.  Then we can practice his being calm and greeting people with a sit.  Here he is greeting Caroline's newborn.  Doing it this way is good for Jam because it gets him used to the area and he calms down pretty quickly.  His main problem is being to amped up to greet people.  So keeping him calm is key.  By having him know his surrounding, being calm, walking around and sniffing, when someone comes up and asks, he almost doesn't even realize what is going on.  Then I can get him in a down stay for petting.  It's when we are someplace else and the request comes and he is out of coat that I can't get him calm.  There is no time for him to calm down.

Trainer Jen Gerrity has given us some new techniques of walking away from the person and then back again to show him that we won't just let him act out with the person.  That he does need to calm down. We tried that with one person so far and it seemed to help quite a bit.  We will continue to use this new technique and see how it goes.

Maty and I are standing behind a sitting Jam in the library during the fashion show.

 Sometimes at lunch there are special events going on, such as the Style Club's fashion show.  Maty and I are the sponsor for the Style Club.  As you can see, Maty is much more stylish than I.  I mainly provide moral support!

Jam with Chemistry teacher Karene.

Sometimes I test Jam's separation anxiety by making him sit in the back of the classroom.  I did this with the chemistry classes.  He didn't like it very much.

Jam, in the car, is a tired pup!

By the end of the day, we are both tuckered out.  He has climbed stairs, walked hallways, managed doors, the switch command, sits, stays, downs, forwards, left left, right right, avoided food, greeted people, napped, been silly.

Time to go home.

Tuesdays and Thursdays

We attended the annual puppy dinner last week, and the speakers made repeated references to the hard work and sacrifice of the puppy raisers. I was tempted to take all of it to heart and adopt a better opinion of myself, except that experience tells me otherwise. In truth, the dogs give us more than we give them. The net gain is on our side, so it can't be called a sacrifice. Raising snakes would be a sacrifice.

Tuesdays and Thursdays are my days with Jam. Today we went for a big walk, watched some men cut down a tree, had lunch on the patio of a nearby sandwich place, and then did some obedience training when Jam became overly interested in a plastic bag that fluttered by in the breeze. Now he's taking a nap at my feet.

Because I work at home at what can be a stressful job, these little things are big for me. On Tuesdays and Thursdays I can be a teacher and Jam can be my little boy for the day.

Am I a better person for doing this?

No, but I feel better.