Having Fun with Tile

By Fred
Sometimes I wonder what dogs think about our hobbies and habits. Cheryl and I might be watching TV, and Coach will briefly look at the screen and then look at us with some real pity, wondering about our willingness to just sit and stare at the thing. Or maybe we will just sit and stare into a book for hours. This is just what people do, dogs learn. They sit and barely move.

A picture of Coach on the top step.
His feet are hanging over the edge.

No wonder these guys are excited when we do something, anything, that involves some movement. I'm in the process of putting tile on the stairs. If I'm doing something that is not safe for Coach, like when I'm working with mortar or grout, I have to put him on a tie down, but yesterday I just needed to put on some tape, so it was OK for him to help.

And at first he wanted to help, like any 3-year-old child might want to do. Let me hold the tape. Let me lick it. Let me pull it off and run away. Etc. And then he discovered that this was just another human thing. He could watch, and I would praise him for being good, but honestly (he must be wondering) where is the fun in this?

He is beginning to lose interest.

I was reminded of traveling to Brazil with Cheryl, who speaks Portuguese while I do not. Sometimes the conversation would contain no English at all, and I would float away with my own thoughts, like Coach listening to me while I explained about the tape and why it was necessary to put on the tile and why I need to put on some special putty, and so on. (Yes, I talk constantly to him while working.)

In the end, he always forgives me. He forgives me for not doing more things that he enjoys. But it's a dog's life, and part of being a good guide dog is learning to be patient with human beings.

A picture of Coach licking my bald head.

Eventually we went for a walk.

I Listen to My Dog

Wednesday morning, Coach, Zoe and I went to the YMCA to go walking.  Just walking.  We were going to put in 2 miles, about 40-45 minutes and then shower and head in to work.  Of course, getting up at 4:50 am to get to the Y with a 7 month old puppy is like getting your baby up and in a stroller for the morning jog.  It often doesn't go as planned or in a timely fashion.

First, I have to get out of bed.  The difference between 4:50 am and 5 am is monumental.  Imagine lying in your bed and thinking about getting up with that 4 am staring you in the face.  If you only waited 10 more minutes....

It was now or never, so we got up.  Coach and Willow (our chocolate lab) followed me downstairs for a pee break (for dogs) and coffee (for me).  Then it is puppy feeding time.  Then poo time (for the dogs).  Coach performed both really well.

I picked up my coffee mug, leash, three bags and headed for the door.  I was already 5 minutes late.

By the time I hit the Y, I was sure Zoe was going to be waiting, but there she was putting on her tennis shoes.  She had stayed up late watching the debates and was tired.  I let Coach out to greet her.  We walked in and I got a lock for the locker and then we headed out to the track.  Coach was in quite a hurry to get to the track.

Zoe, my walking partner, and Coach on the track in the morning.

Once out there Zoe started up her Nike app and we began walking.  About 30 seconds into it, Coach pulls hard to the left.  Eeek! A poo break.  But I was prepared.  I had anticipated a potential poo on the track and brought poo bags with me.  So I cleaned it all up and we were back walking in no time.

After about a mile, another lady joined the track.  She was a runner.  I think there was a boot camp class that was going to start at 6 am and she was early and wanted to get in extra running time, because she was super healthy and had extra energy to burn (I wonder what that is like?).  She jetted past us and as she did, she said, "I see a puppy in training!"  It was a rather happy greeting.  We said a jolly hello back and kept walking.

Coach, however, was amazed by this woman.  "OMG! Look how fast!  She is like Wonder Woman!"  You could see the puppy thoughts zooming in his brain.  He picked up the pace and looked back at me when I didn't follow suit.

It was like when you take your child to that first birthday party with all the moms in attendance and your child turns and looks at you and says, "Why can't you dress pretty like that mommy?" And you realize that your fashion sense is not what it used to be.  Or at least your child doesn't get it.  And there's no going back!

Coach had looked back at me and said, "I like the fast mommy! Let's run!"

Pumpkin, we are not running.  "Coach, buddy, you got the pokey mama." Zoe laughed.  "We aren't running and you can't change mamas now."

Coach was still straining at the leash and had a wistful look in his eye.  He managed to contain his disappointment and finished he walk with us.

Coach lying on the shower floor with his head poking under the shower curtain.

Then we hit the showers.  He was very good in the shower.  He stayed in a down stay at the edge of the shower.  Although, I do have to admit that he poked his head under the curtain as you can see in the photo above and looked at the ladies who were walking to and fro.  

Coach sitting a little damp in the shower.

Nobody screamed though, so I consider that a victory of sorts. And the YMCA staff has been very welcoming.

Today we went for another walk and since Zoe slept through her alarms so we had the first few minutes on the track by ourselves.  Now, if you know me at all, you should know that I am a slave to my overactive imagination and the only reason that Zoe and I joined the gym is that we scared ourselves walking in the dark in our neighborhood.  DON'T LAUGH.  It's true.  Well, I'm sure you are laughing anyway, so go ahead.  

Coach and I step out onto the track area, which I will say, is super well-lit and fenced in and all the brush is trimmed back. So, no problem, I say to my lizard brain where all my imagination and fear is contained.  

Then Coach stops and stares over at the middle of the track.  Way off into the darkness past the fence into the bushes.  Right where someone would be lurking.  

"What is it?" I ask.  Coach remains on alert.  "There's nothing there."  I say this in a whisper.  I realize that I've whispered this and I say it again louder.

Coach ignores me and stares more intently at the spot.  

I start thinking about all the horror films I've seen.  The ones where the girl goes out in the dark and her dog sees the psycho killer and the audience screams, "Don't go in there!" and the girl says, "Oh, Sparky, there's nothing there! You silly!" And the audience screams, "Don't go in there you idiot!!!" And she goes in there. And the audience screams, "NOOOOOOOO!!!!!" And the psycho killer gets her. And the audience screams, "Why didn't you listen to your dog!!!!"

I look down at Coach.

Maybe we'll do obedience drills right here until Zoe comes.  I'm not stupid.  I listen to my dog, but I'm still not running.

Status of Sit Stay Give: We Broke $500!!!!

Oh, my gosh!!  We have broken the $500 mark on Coach's Sit Stay Give site!!!  The SLPs have had a couple of break sales and I have had some friends donate.  (Thank you Ko family and Timothy family!).  

But what is truly amazing is that we have student library proctors like Evan who have signed up for their own pages and are having their friends and family donate (Thank you Marcia & Mitchell Miller and Elyssa Schindler!), AND we have people we don't personally know on the web, like Robert and Myra Sann (below), who are donating!!

Thank you all so so much!!!

Photo of the bone graphic from the sit stay give campaign showing we have raised $525 so far!

Tomorrow night the student library proctors will be manning the concession stand at the Berkeley Buc v Tampa Prep volleyball game, which is a game you DO NOT WANT TO MISS!  It will be held in the Straz Family Fieldhouse.  Part of the proceeds for the night will go to our charity of naming the next Southeastern Library dog!!  So come and eat some food and watch a great game.

A photo of the front of the totes with each novelist showing.

And buy a tote bag.  Who doesn't need a great tote bag?  We have four different varieties and they all are by our very own Yunhan, a senior, who is a very talented artist.  You can choose from William Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe, Jane Austen and Harper Lee.  They are only $15 and make a great Christmas present!!  Those proceeds go towards naming the puppy as well. 8-)

A photo of Yunhan sitting with her totes in front of her.

It is really easy to donate:

1. Just go to Coach's Sit Stay Give site and click on the donate button.
2. Or, you can join our team and gather donations with us!!  There is a join our team button as well!

Thank you all for your support!!

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.

Eating at Little Habana and Meeting His Reflection

Saturday night we had planned with our friends Erik and Michele.  We were going over to eat at a Cuban restaurant they love called Little Habana.  Now, usually, I'm so-so with Cuban food as I prefer Mexican food because I like things spicy.  So, it gives me great pleasure to announce that Little Habana was AMAZING.

Not only are they guide dog puppy friendly (Michele had prepped them! 8-), but the restaurant is charming and the food is flavorful, spicy and delicious.  I had the special, the goat stew, which was a type of curry and it was out of this world with such an incredible sauce.  It was an effort to hold back and save some room for the tres leches cake for dessert.

Make sure you save room for dessert!  It is not to be missed.  Now, you may be wondering what Coach was doing all this time.  He was not being his usual sit down, fall asleep, good boy self.  NO.  He was getting up.  Rearranging himself.  Trying to visit the table next to us.  It was as if periodically a jolt of testosterone would shoot through his system and he would be overcome.

It wasn't the good boy behavior we had come to know and expect.

"He's such a good boy," Tanya said.  "I didn't even know he was under the table!"  I looked at Michele. Hmmm.  I guess he had been good, we were just used to better.  Coach looked up at Tanya with his sweet face.  He's such a ladies man.

Afterwards we went back to their place to chat and meet the critters.  The two little pups had a meet and greet but it was ultimately decided that they were pumped up and should stay in their crates.  Coach was very pumped about being the only dog and in charge of ALL the dog toys.  He then proceeded to lick them all just to prove that he could.

He's a pill.

Michele watches as Coach chews on one of the nylabones.

Here he is with Michele chewing on half a nylabone.  He also found their glass doors to be intensely interesting as another dog lived out in the reflection.

Coach is standing at attention looking out at his reflection.

This dog would peer back in at him and often startled him and made him bark a time or two.  We took him closer to the windows to get him over this reaction, but he never quite seemed to make the connection.  We also met Bindi the cat, but I haven't had time to process the video.

Something to work on during our next visit for some delicious Cuban food and fun company!

Yakking It Up

Yesterday afternoon was a quiet one in the library.  I was out in the classroom area we have in the middle of the library with my computer working on some class projects I have coming up.  Coach was asleep at my feet, so quiet (unlike the other night at the play!).

There were only about 15 students in the library, and they were scattered all around.  Some were by me as all the tables in that area have outlets and some were over at the other tables reading or working.  A few were upstairs on the mezzanine.

All of a sudden, Coach sat up and started making that unmistakable sound of a dog beginning to hurl.  It is quite appalling and there is no way to stop it.

Every student turned their head to look at me.  I looked down at Coach.  "Oh Coach!"

There was complete silence as Coach made three loud and sustained gagging noises and then barfed on the floor by my feet.  It was a bit of his stomach contents and some grass, since he does always try to eat grass when he goes out to busy.

The junior girl near me said, "Poor Coach!"  There was a chorus of Awwwws and Ohhhhs throughout the library.

"I know.  Poor baby."  I was standing by this time and I tugged on his leash to get him moving.  I figured we might as well get some paper towels and clean it up.  He was a little wobbly since he was coming out of a deep sleep and had just thrown up and we were walking slow, when he started that heaving noise again.  I was near the library work room.

"Jan, paper towels!"

"Don't bring him in here!" Jan yelled.

Some of the students were standing to see if he was going to hurl in the workroom.

"I'm not going to bring him in there!  I just want to some paper towels!" By now we were standing by the doorway.  Coach was standing and heaving.  Then he let out a huge burp.  He sat down and looked up at us.

I patted him on the head.  "This has been a tough day for you, little baby. Let's go outside for a bit."

I took the paper towels that were finally handed to me and on my way out set them on the table near my computer.  Everyone murmured sweet things to Coach as we passed by.  Out in the sun he seemed to perk up a little.  He didn't try to eat any grass.

I left his coat off and went back inside.  Then I cleaned up his accident.  Since he was out of coat, there were some students who wanted to comfort him.

"I love Coach the best," one of them said.  The fact that he had just barfed did not deter them in the least from loving on him.  Nor did they seem in the least bit grossed out.

At the end of the day, on the way to the car we had something extraordinary happen.  Well, I say extraordinary, I guess I mean extraordinary in Coach's eyes.  As we came up to the car, there was a huge orange cat sitting next to the passenger side door.  If you remember, that is where Sir Pukes A Lot threw up his breakfast on Wednesday and some of it I just left on the ground by my car.  I guess the cat found it and decided she liked dog food barf.  Coach, who was just in the process of throwing on the brakes as we approached the car, saw the orange cat and was entranced.  A cat! All for him!

He picked up speed.  The cat picked up speed and raced to the front of the car.  We raced to the door.  Then he realized where we were and it was too late.  I had the door open and it was time to get in.

He learned.  Chasing cats is dangerous.  It can make you do things you don't want to do. But puking.  Puking brought love and unexpected cats into your life.  Puking was a double-edge sword.

Doomed to Fail

 Last night we took Coach to the Fall Play at school.  Fred warned me that it wasn't a good idea, but we were up against a wall: today is our 21st wedding anniversary, tomorrow we have dinner plans, and if we didn't take Coach with us, it was too long to leave him in the crate.

No choice, but to take him.

Evidently Mr. Coach had been feeling his nearly 7 month old oats all day long.  I suspect that his body had been surging with testosterone and while he is always calm and mostly dour, with this new hormone racing through him, he is feeling out of sorts and strange.

I found him racing through the house and careening off the walls.  Where had my calm boy gone?  Surely dinner would do the trick?

He ate it.  Sure.  But he had pooped at 4, so the poo schedule was off.  Never a good thing.  Willow was begging to be left alone.  We gathered up all his gear and piled him in the car.

Off we went to Panera where he decided that he would not go quietly under that table.  Instead he yanked out all the napkins that had been placed under a leg to keep the table level.  Lovely. Then he proceeded to lung after imaginary specks of bread.  In PANERA.  The place has specks of bread floating in the air.  Coach was in constant motion under the table.  Here's a speck, no, wait, it's over here.

Sigh. Dinner was a brief affair.

We hightailed it to the school.  Then we walked around and were almost late trying to get the boy to poo.  I knew he had to go.  But no.  He was stubborn and would not poo.

So we reluctantly went into the Lykes Center, but we chose a seat in the back row on the aisle.  Near the exit.  We knew.  It was only a matter of time.

Coach is lying on the floor of the Lykes Center before he has his whining fit.

Coach began the evening by courteously removing all trash from his vicinity with his teeth and trying to eat it.  I removed every piece under the cover of darkness: a piece of wire, a piece of cellophane, gum.

Then the crying started.  Whine, whine.  

"Shh.  No noise." Gentle tug on leash.  I tried to reposition him.  He was antsy.  The musical was in full force.  You couldn't hear anything the kids were singing so loud.  They were amazing.  It was wonderful.  And yet, all I could think was, "Does this whine carry forward three rows?" Because in rows that is where some parents are.  

More movement from Coach.  I finally decided it was time for him to poo.  We went outside and sure enough, he had to go.  I put it in a bag and tossed it in one of the many trash cans around campus and hurried back in.  My false hope was that he would now be calm.

No.  He was not.

He was a whiny baby.  And for the next few minutes as we tried to listen to great comedy and singing, Coach made sure we knew he was unhappy and wanted to go home.  He did not like musical theater.

So, we left.

But I woke up at in the middle of the night and remembered that I had deposited his poo in a prohibited trash can.  You see, three years ago, when I had Bingo, he had pooped by the Lykes Center and I had innocently bagged it and thrown it in the trash cans near the middle division deck.  

In my haste to get back to the play, I did again.  I had been told that the poo bag had sat in the trash and baked and all the kids who sat and ate lunch there complained of an awful stench.  I could not be blamed again for ruining everyone's lunch because of dog poo.  We had to do a poo stealth removal.

Coach and I are walking to the offending bag of poo.

We waited until the entire middle division was in convocation so no one would witness me rooting around in the trash.

We've found the trash can where the poo is.

Here is the deck and the trash can where the poo is.  It needs to be removed.  

I'm peering into the trash can as Coach sits by my feet.

I opened the trashcan hoping that lots of trash hadn't been piled on top of the poo. And I was in luck. You could see the poo right away!  I could grab the bag and be on my way.

I reach into the trash to grab the poo.

Here we are walking off to find a safe trash can.

Now all we have to do is find a trash can that isn't near an eating area.

Dropping off our deposit into a safe trash can!

Success!  Poo has been relocated!  Now, I need to wash my hands!  What a Friday.