Frankenstein's Nutcracker

Sometimes you do things without thinking.  Or, rather, you do them because the moment says do it.  It's the adult version of peer pressure.  Saturday night at the Nutcracker at Ruth Eckerd was such a moment for me.

We walked in with Coach and Melisa and Ed from the South group and went to Portal 7.  Fred said he would hang back and see what was up, but I was in that state of "where is everyone?" mode.  When we walked through the portal doors, Carolyn stood up and waved.  She was just to the left of center of one big-assed row that spanned the entire theater.  There was one group of 5 to step over and then there were some empty seats.  And then there was our group: Charity, a small black lab female, with Lois, her puppy raiser, and her friend and then our seats and then Carolyn and Steve.

I started into the row.  Fred followed behind muttering excuse me's for Coach's blundering about.  Heads in the row in front were popping forward and then looking back. Coach was very happy.

Mind you, Melisa and Ed had an empty row.  We could have not sat in our assigned seats and followed them into their row.

But no, I forged a blistering trail of apologies forward as we made our way to Charity, who was quietly looking for gum under the seats.  Coach immediately got very excited (he's not neutered and neither is Charity) and wanted to become close friends.  Lois and her friend both had glasses of red wine.  This was a problem.  All I could see was Coach sending those glasses high into the air with long streamers of red wine sloshing over members of the audience.

My pulse had just ratcheted up to marathon levels and I think I was close to hyperventilating.  Carolyn asked me a question and I just nodded.  Why did we come to this?

Oh yes, for Coach.  So he could experience the symphony and the joy of the Nutcracker and have a real play experience so his visually impaired person would not be taking him to a play for the first time.

Coach in the meantime had decided that Charity was super cute and date-able. He needed to make her acquaintance and become fast friends.  So he tried to inch his way down to her.  That involved about ten minutes of Fred and me pulling him back and replacing him under our seats, which he didn't want to stay under.

My pulse was still racing.  The curtain went up and so did Coach's head.

"Aaaaaaarrrrrrrrr." Oh God.  I pulled Coach down and tried to step on the leash, but dammit, I had worn pretty shoes again and they had pointy toes and there wasn't much surface area with which to step on the leash.

The cymbals crashed and Coach popped his head up.  The people in front of Fred turned to each and were talking.  What were they talking about?  Were they upset that Coach was being loud?  The lady a few people to the left in the row in front of me turned and I heard her say "Is that a dog?"

"We have got to leave. NOW." I said in my most panicked voice to Fred.  Every head movement of the people in the row in front of us presaged those of the villagers before they burned Frankenstein out of town.  It was getting dangerous.

Fred said in a very calm voice, "There is no way we can leave now. We will only create more of a scene." He nodded to where Charity was sleeping quietly.  Damn that Charity.

"Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrr." Jiminy! Coach! He had popped up again because the cymbals had disturbed him.  Carolyn took over and scrunched him under her chair and massaged him into a semi-unconscious submissive state.  It lasted for a good while until the timpani drum started, then he struggled to get up and see what that was.  Carolyn got him back down and quiet.

From the floor we heard a soft, "Aarr."

In my head all I could think of was the row in front of us marching to the ticket area and asking for their money back.  My pulse had not calmed down.  "When is the intermission?"  I asked Carolyn.  She leafed through the guide and couldn't find it.

"I don't think there is one."

Oh. No.

I stared straight ahead and pondered this.  Surely this Nutcracker had an intermission.  I mean, it was a reinterpretation of the Nutcracker by the Ringling Circus, but I had watched previous Nutcrackers, they had intermissions.  All of these things had intermissions!  Who didn't have intermissions?  Don't circus people get tired?  It was criminal not to have an intermission!  What about people with tiny bladders? Already two people in the row in front of us had gotten up and left.  They were much further down and couldn't possibly have heard Coach.  I bet they had tiny bladders and couldn't hold it.  They had also created a scene and made everyone in their row move as they crawled over the top of them to get out.  I made sure to give Fred significant looks when they did this, which he just as studiously ignored.

Sigh.  We were trapped.  Trapped by Charity and wine.  Damn that Charity!  I looked down the row but I couldn't see her.  She was being good and quiet under the seats.

Finally, after the dance of what I thought was the sugar plum fairies, there was an intermission.  Coach had settled down and was quiet under Carolyn's chair.  I turned to Carolyn, "We are leaving."

"But he's doing great now."

"I can't take it."  The two older ladies in the row ahead of us turned as Coach put his head up to start walking down the aisle.  "I'm so sorry if he bothered you!" I said as I caught them looking at Coach.  I was hoping to forestall the calls for fire and pitchforks.

"Oh not at all!" One of the ladies said with a big smile.  "Is he a dog in training?"  Carolyn started to tell them about the puppy program and the lady started talking about how happy she was that we were able to come to things like this and how good Coach had been.

She thought Coach had been good.  It was a Christmas miracle.

We could have stayed.  We knew now that we were surrounded by friends and supporters.  But I think it is always good to recognize when your child/puppy has reached their limit and leave with the goodwill of everyone around you.  My pulse had returned to normal.

Fred, Cheryl and a calm Coach, who is lying down on the carpet, relaxed and at
peace now that he is outside the actual seating area and on the steps leading inside. 

Thank you Ruth Eckerd Hall for the tickets and for allowing us to experience the Nutcracker!  The Frankenstein villagers slept peacefully that night.

Bonfire of the Vanities

Vanity: excessive pride or admiration of one's own appearance.

Hmmm.  I am vain about my shoes.  I love a pretty pair of shoes and might even buy a pair that will cause me trouble if they are excessively pretty. Oh, hell.  Might.  I did.  Then on Thursday I wore them. Because that's what you do.  You buy the pretty shoes and the next day, you wear them because you can't let the pretty shoes languish in your closet.  

But, are you bringing your guide dog puppy in on that day? Yes.  Are these shoes fairly high? Yes.  Might this be a problem?  "Oh, no!" Vanity speaks and wrenches the sensible shoes out of my hands and thrusts the sparkly red shoes into my hands.  "Wear them, wear them.  You will look so good."

So that is how I came to be wearing red platform shoes on Thursday when I had Coach. Vanity, thy name is Cheryl. 

Aren't they pretty? My red platform shoes with sparkly red flowers on the front.

I was ok walking around the library.  I was ok walking to the car for lunch.  The problem came when I detected a poo butt and thought perhaps Coach should take a little walk before we entered the restaurant.  Coach and I set off to find some potty spots.  Fortunately, there was a residential street near by.  Coach did he business in record time.  Unfortunately, there was also a scary snowman on someone's front lawn.

Coach is staring at the designer dog while Frosty looks on in the background.

Coach was not pleased.  In fact, he began to bark.  He used his big boy bark.  I thought, "This is a great opportunity to have Coach get a little closer to see that Frosty is not scary."  I'm such a good puppy raiser (oh, vanity!).  Mind you, this is the corner house, near the street with the restaurants near by.

Coach was barking and I was saying, "No Noise!" and we were inching our way up an uneven lawn when all of a sudden a gust of wind made Frosty lurch toward us. Coach jerked back and yanked me off my left red platform shoe so that now I was trapped by the strap in some strange platform black hole of half on and half off with a dog giving the fish eye to a wild Frosty. 

As I was flailing around, the next door neighbor walked up with her small, perfectly coiffed, designer dog and she and the dog glanced at me and Coach.  It was that glance that made me try not to flail so blatantly, but seriously, I couldn't right myself.  Were these shoes that high?

Coach must have felt the impact of the gaze as well because he gathered breath for another big boy bark at the small designer dog as the lovely, non-sweating woman and her beige tip-toeing, silent dog glided up their driveway, but all that came out were these high pitched, squeaky barks.  Coach stopped barking.  The designer dog looked back and sniffed. Coach looked at me.

Coach looking up at me for approval.

I had finally pulled myself together and stepped onto my shoe.  That's when I noticed that the outside patio of the restaurant where we were going to have lunch had a full view of our performance.  It was filled with people.

I hope they noticed my shoes were pretty.

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.

Exuberant Jam's November Report Card and a Photo of Sunny

We just received Jam's November report card and he is in Phase 3!  OMG!  We have never had a puppy go to Phase 3 before.  What is Phase 3 you ask? Well, Phase 3 is Polishing and blindfold walks!

That's right.  Our Jam is actually guiding people on blindfold walks.  Woot!!  Of course, there is a trainer there as well as you can see in the photo below: The person with the blindfold on has the dog at their left.  The trainer is holding the dog's leash in case something goes wrong.  But for the most part, the dog is doing some guiding here.  

Our North Pinellas puppy Sunny is the guide dog in this photo leading the blindfolded person.
You can tell by her dimples on her forehead. Photo by Kathy Hysmith.

What is cool about the above photo, while not of Jam, is that it is of one of our North Pinellas pups and one of Jam's fellow IFT kennel mates Sunny.  Sunny was raised by our AC Carolyn.

Below is a copy of Jam's November report card.  He is doing great.

His trainer had these comments about him:

"COMMENTS:  This dog always puts a smile on my face in the morning! J  Jam is still coming along in training.  He loves to work and needs a job to do.  He is still very exuberant but is maturing.  On days that he stays back from training, Jam enjoys spending his time playing in the field and participating with kennel enrichment. "

That's our boy: exuberant, happy and willing to work.  Go, Jam! Go! 

The Wrap-In and the Christmas Convo

Last Friday, a week ago, our entire school participated in our fourth annual Wrap-In.  It's a community service initiative that brings together the whole school and it ultimately benefits several local charities:  Redlands Christian Migrant Association, the Head Start Programs at Jackson Springs and Town and Country Commons and Dover Elementary School.  

What is nice about the project is that all the divisions get to mix it up and be together, an upper advisory group with a lower classroom, middle advisory with upper and so on.  This year, like our other years, we were lucky and got paired with one of the pre-k classes and a middle division class.  

Richie and Kelland sit with Coach after writing letters for their gift bags.

Coach's job was to go around and let all the kids pet him and to behave calmly and sit.  He did very well.  When he started to pull on his leash about 9 am, I figured something odd was up and took him outside.  Yep, that was a classic Coach poo signal.  Yea Coach!  Pooping in the pre-k classroom, while not unheard of, would have been a bad thing!

I met one of the most delightful pre-k little girls.  She is sitting on the chair next to me.
She had red sparkly glasses like mine and was a real spitfire.

Mostly our older kids helped the younger kids write and decorate letters to the put in the gift bags for the kids to receive on Christmas. It is a nice community-building experience for us.

Here's what a 1,000 plus filled Christmas gift bags look like! Very colorful. (Photo by Chris Woods BPS)

And in the end, our kids our very generous and we donated over 1,000 presents.

Coach is lying on the wooden gym floor thankful there is no more piping going on .

Later in the afternoon we went to the Christmas all school convo.  That was almost a screaming disaster.  Evidently, the new piping instructor has tuned the bagpipes or the pipers are now playing them differently, because for the first time ever, Coach nearly lost his shinola in the gym!  We were about 10 seconds from bolting from the convo: I had gathered up all my stuff was about to get up, Coach had sat up and was shaking his head and seemed poised to let out an ear piercing howl, when the pipers stopped playing.  

Sweet silent night.  

Coach went back to sleep and all was well.  Happy Holidays!!

Drunk Santa

By Fred
I'm sure that being Santa is not easy. Talk about pressure... But there is code of basic human decency, and it does not allow for being drunk and passed out on Main street in Dunedin, especially with the little children and puppies passing by.

There's only so much you can do to overlook a person's moral failings, even when that person brought you a cool chemistry set when you were a kid.

And so here was Santa once again, motionless and worrisome to Coach just like the last time we saw him, only today Santa was face-down drunk on the sidewalk, sleeping like a log.

What brings a man to this point, his face smashed against rotting leaves and cigarette butts?

We could have turned away but it was time for Coach to grow up and take a look at the unpleasant side of life.

Gradually we approached--no reason to be afraid.

A quick sniff and we decide to move on. Santa is not scary. Santa is not bad. He's just a little drunk.

Coach Meets Santa, Twice

By Fred

Petsmart has hired a Santa for silly people with silly dogs like us. That's good because Santa was, at the very least, a good exposure for Coach, who must have wondered what the heck was going on.

A picture of puppies and raisers in our back yard

Then there was the party this weekend at our house, with puppies and good people and presents and Christmas-stuff everywhere. Of course, this was the first Christmas for these dogs, so they might have missed some of the finer details.

And then today Coach and I took a lunch-time walk in Dunedin, and who did we see? Santa, in the flesh, full-size, standing there like a statue in someone's yard.

Santa, standing in the bushes near the front porch.
What is he doing there in the bushes?

If Santa had been jumping up and down on one leg and waving his arms, Coach wouldn't have given him a second look, but Santa was just standing there with that cheery grin and extended hand.

...just standing there and not moving a muscle.

Coach sees Santa

I mean, what could be more welcoming and reassuring than that image--Santa standing in someone's yard, wishing everyone a good day?

Santa. Just looking at us and smiling.

Coach with a puzzled look. frozen in place.
Is that Santa?

A picture of Coach, suddenly unsure
about Christmas