Play, Nap and Repeat

By Fred
Corky and Jam napped together and got into such a complicated pile that, because of my inadequate photography skills and Corky's dark coat, I needed to caption. I'm sure this couldn't have been comfortable for either of them, but they continued to nap this way for quite a while.

A picture of Jam sleeping, using Corky's
head as a pillow.

Last night Corky had a fun puppy kindergarten class at Cathy Saunders' place and with our friend John Bauer running the class and doing an excellent job. At the end we gathered all the puppies together on a screened porch and let them loose to play with each other.

I had been feeling pitiful all day, suffering with allergies and the general insult of old age, and for a few seconds there, with the puppies running and playing, I was back in grade school, running on the playground and having real fun. Wish that feeling would last a little longer...

Scary Camouflage

Coffee.  All I had on my mind was getting a cup of coffee before the cafeteria closed before 9.  We were walking at a fairly brisk pace and had just turned right down the main hallway toward the senior mall when Dewey stopped short.  

"Dewey?" Nothing.  I noticed that his ears were up and he was staring intently dow the hall.

I looked down the hall.

The view down the hall: a large camouflaged backpack with a beam of sunlight falling on it.

There were two backpacks on either side of the hallway, but Dewey wasn't looking at them.  He was staring straight ahead.  Intently.  There, in the bright sunlight, was Caleb's oversized camouflaged backpack.

Dewey was not going to go any closer.  I tried the happy voice.

Nope. Nothing.

I looked at Christina.  She went over the backpack and kneeled down beside it.

She tried the happy voice, "Dewey! Come! It's okay!"

I tried the happy voice where I was beside him, "Okay buddy, let's go! You can do it!"

Dewey walked forward a few steps.  He looked up at me.  He looked at Christina.  He walked a few more steps. We kept up the happy voices and he kept slowly walking.  I decided not to come at the backpack directed and we took a wide arc to come at it sideways.  Dewey's pace increased.  His nose started twitching. Christina was still calling him in a happy voice.

He was always in a forward motion. Finally we arrived at the backpack and Dewey came right up to it and sniffed.

He backed up two feet and then approached the top again, opened it with his nose and got a good sniff.

"Well, that's nosey," I said.  I closed the top. He sniffed the backpack up and down.  It was no longer scary.

Dewey leaning against the backpack.

We came back about 15 minutes later with my iPhone to take photos. He walked right up to it, no problem.  Fear conquered.

Good job Dewey!

A Sick Coach (now on the mend)

By Fred
The big-dog party Saturday night was pretty exciting, but our normally rambunctious little Coach was unusually quiet under the table all night--understandably, so we figured, after the long day at the walkathon (we must have walked 3 or 4 miles in all). But Coach was already sick. We just didn't know it yet.

A panorama shot of the banquet room.

So we drove home from the party and got right into bed. My allergies were colliding with a cold for a perfect storm in my head. And then, at around 1 am, I heard Cheryl talking to Coach--he had just thrown up.

Let's be clear. Cheryl is the one on middle-of-the-night patrol. When our puppies are little she takes them out for potty breaks at 2 am, and she is up like a rocket at the first sound of distress. Her little engine is wound up tight, while mine is not so much. So even if I had not been sick Saturday night, she still would have been the one to get up. But I was sick, and it is an essential fact for this narrative (if only to make me feel less like a slacker).

Coach threw up several times during the night and he was no better by Sunday morning, so Cheryl took him to the emergency vet. The diagnosis: gastroenteritis. She brought him back home. He was not at all well. Very quiet. Very un-Coachlike. By evening time he still wouldn't eat or drink despite all of Cheryl's encouragement, some of which was extremely creative and compelling (no wonder she can talk me into doing things). He was really sick, poor guy.

A picture of Cheryl encouraging Coach to have some food.

By Monday morning Coach still wouldn't eat or drink, not a bit, so I took him to spend the day with Dr. Woodman. By Tuesday, he was only a bit better, but he would at least sip some water and we could see some improvement, and finally today Coach seems more like himself again. He's eating and drinking, though he has a way to go still.

We don't realize what a bright spark is inside our puppies until that spark goes a little dim. Humans can reach out for sympathy and whine and blow loudly into tissues, but this little guy breaks our heart without trying.

Girl Scouts

By Fred
Last night Cheryl and I took Coach to a girl scout meeting along with eight or nine other puppies and their puppy raisers, all stuffed into a small room that was filled with the type of kinetic, silly energy that only puppies and girl scouts can generate.

A photo of girl scouts in the back, my wanna-be-a-girl-scout wife grinning impressively and posing with Coach in the middle, and some other puppies and puppy raisers

Then add the fact that at least two of our group's puppies are males almost 1 year old and still not fixed (Coach and Coastie). And at least one of the female dogs had really caught their attention, severely so, making them even more stupid than human teenagers.

The girls were sweet, and several of them asked for Coach's "card" (he has his own business cards).

Later we played doggie tic-tac-toe, where the dogs are supposed to sit in the squares like Xs (the black labs) and Os (the yellows), but the aforementioned hormones and pheromones had all the dogs distracted until the Xs and Os were all mixed up and scrambling into other squares until the games had to be declared a draw. Even our good-boy Couch could not sit still for a minute, if that can be believed. But it was all big fun.

Here's the closing ceremony.

Street Fair Exposure

Saturday we went to downtown Dunedin for lunch and then the plan was to go over to the concert in the park and see if we could find Coastie.  But we got distracted by the street fair that was going on in Dunedin and ended up spending our afternoon in Dunedin.

Coach and Fred getting reading to start walking down the Pinellas Trail to Dunedin.

The nice thing about Dunedin is that it is so dog friendly.  The bad thing about Dunedin is that it is so dog friendly.  This visit was going to be an exposure heavily laden with dog distractions.  However, since we were on the trail, our first distraction proved to be bicycles:

You can see two cyclists off in the distance on the the trail.

As we were standing there putting on Coach's coat, the cyclists came up from behind, called out that they were coming up from behind and on the left and then passed us.  Coach calmly looked around at them.  No problem.

A lady in a wheelchair is being wheeled down the cobblestone walk.

Not only were there bikes, but there were canes, walkers and wheelchairs, too.  Coach was indifferent to them all.

Photo of a chocolate standard poodle walking toward us.  The poodle is being held closely to the owner.

He was moderately indifferent to all the dogs.  What has happened with other puppies (Bingo and Jam) is that we would get lunging and jumping.  We got none of that with Coach.

Here is a chocolate lab being held closely to the owner and walking toward us.  

 Coach doesn't lunge or jump.  He does a mean stare though.

Coach staring at a small Westie.  Fred has him on a high collar. 

Unfortunately, at street fairs, it isn't just Coach's behavior that you have to be aware of.  You also have to be aware of all the dogs around you.  Not only in front of you, but coming up behind you.

A backend view of the doberman who sniffed Coach's butt.

The owner of the doberman in the photo above was not paying attention to him and just let him wander all over the place. Of course this big, scary dog was going up to every dog he could and sniffing them.  He managed to get up to Coach's butt and goose him.  I had been watching out in front, but moved over to the other side of Fred to be on Coach's left and keep the doberman away after the initial goose.

Honestly.  If people would just pay attention to what they are doing!!

Coach walking in a nice loose leash on the cobblestones.

There is a yellow dog project (see the photo of their poster above for more details) that seeks to highlight dogs who really do need more space by placing a yellow ribbon on their leash.  If you see that ribbon, you should give them space, NO MATTER WHAT.  In our case, our dogs are working.  They shouldn't be distracted by your dogs sniffing them or wanting to introduce themselves or by saying hello.  They have a job to do and learning to ignore you and other dogs is part of it.  

Coach did really well.  I am also going to be on the lookout for a yellow ribbon too.  It looks so pretty with blue!

With the Flu

By Fred
Today I thought I could do it. I thought I could get dressed and take Coach out for lunch to our favorite place. In fact I did get dressed, and I got Coach into his leash. But a cold and rainy wind hit my face when I opened the door, and I could hear my mother's voice in my mind saying "You can't go out in that, not with the flu."

So like a child I turned around and went back into the house. As a younger man I would have said "screw it" and drove to the restaurant. I've grown older with a generous regard for illness--for the flu and pneumonia and all the things tougher than I am.

Coach doesn't seem to care. We did some doggy push-ups, and maybe he got a special treat. Coach is such a good boy. I'll be glad when this flu is gone.

Also, good news from Dr. Woodman. Willow has come out of her surgery very well (she had a bump removed from her eyelid).

Not a Stepchild

By Fred

For a brief while in my childhood I was a stepchild, though I never got any of the Cinderella-ish treatment sometimes associated with that word. I was lucky to have a great childhood and a great stepdad.

I do wonder, from time to time, that by focusing so much attention on our guide dog puppies, we are treating Willow like a stepchild, if only a bit. Sure, Willow has her perks, like being free to nap on the leather chairs (Coach may not). But I can't deny that Coach gets more attention, and he always gets to go out with us.

Normally I play Frisbee with Willow only on the days that Coach is not here (so that I don't have to leave him alone in the house). Yesterday I decided he was trustworthy enough to sit inside while I played with Willow outside. I wasn't sure how Coach would feel seeing us walk away (and with a toy in my hand) to go play.

Fortunately I could see into the house through another window, and I watched how our good boy sat there patiently by the door the whole time, not jumping or even pacing. What a good boy.

It's hard for humans to remember that dogs just can't hold a grudge.

Even if they do feel like stepchildren from time to time, they are quick to forgive and forget.

A Brand New Coat

By Fred
Poor Coach has been wearing a hand-me-down coat for months now, with faded lettering and frayed edges, and I've wondered if his self-esteem has suffered, with him seeming to be the poor kid at all the guide dog meetings.

A picture of Coach in his new coat.
He has a big smile on his face.

I could tell he was overjoyed yesterday when his new coat arrived in the mail. And I couldn't wait to take him out into public and let him show off.

It wasn't long until someone came up to us in Publix. Coach did his best Sit ever and looked up at the woman with the sweetest face, knowing that his new coat would help get him the attention and affection he feels that he deserves.

The woman gave Coach a quick glance and then looked at me. "Do you know Coastie?" she asked.

Yes, of course I know Coastie, I replied. Coastie is another guide dog puppy in our group. But when I tried to change the subject and tell her about Coach, the woman interrupted me.

"I've read all about Coastie and seen him on TV," she said as though she were describing Brad Pitt instead of a puppy. "And I saw him here in the store, just a few days ago." And then she went on to tell me about her dog and her husband and her job and more about Coastie, not giving Coach another look.

I could tell that Coach had his feelings hurt. His tail was a little droopy on the way out of the store, that is until another woman and her little girl came up to us.

"Pretty dog, mama," the girl said. "Yes," her mom agreed. Obviously she admired the coat very much.

And Coach was back to his old self.

Bindi, My Bindi

Saturday night, Coach got to meet a friendly cat: Bindi. Bindi grew up with four dogs and currently lives with two.  So, she is very experienced with the canine temperament and has no problem with puppies.

We set up a very safe meet and greet with plenty of escape room for her (which she eventually took advantage of) and slowly walked Coach over to see her.  You can see by the video that he was overcome by excitement.  Our calm, dour boy was almost Jam-like in his enthusiasm.

Unfortunately for Coach, once irritated into fleeing, Bindi decided to stay gone and didn't make another appearance the evening.