Destroyer of Souls

You might wonder by the title of this post whether I am talking about Jam or myself.  Well, rest assured, the sweet little Jam boy is not the destroyer of souls.  No, that designation goes to me.  I alone carry the power to crush joy from the hearts of men, women and small, little blonde girls.

Take last night for instance...

Michele and I were planning on attending the regional finals game of the boys baseball team (we ended up losing 6-1, boo! but it wasn't a shut out!).  We decided to go to dinner together to Seasons 52 before the game started.  I've started the South Beach diet and I'm in that irritating two week beginner phase where you can't have anything that tastes good or has a starch or sugar calorie in it.  I might as well have tasty veggies if veggies are all I can have!  So Seasons 52 it is. 

It was a little bit tense as Jam had his dinner at 4 and still hadn't had a poo and Seasons 52 is a little posh.    I was pretty confident that he wouldn't hunch over in the restaurant as we gave him ample opportunity outside to go.

Inside the hostess said there was a regular customer who has a Southeastern puppy who was much smaller/younger than Jam and they loved the puppies there.  (Yea!) We've taken Jam there several times and they've always been super nice.  

Jam's new thing is to position himself at the very front of the booth so that he can watch the traffic back and forth.  Sort of a watchdog thing.  He's checking everyone out.  So, he was the one to first see the lady approach our table, but he didn't get up.  He did move his head, which alerted me that something was up and I turned to see her making her way gingerly towards us.

Now there are generally two sorts of people who approach you with intent:

1. Zombie hands: These are the people who are not going to ask, they just have their hands and arms outstretched like lifeless zombies lurching towards you ready to grab your guide dog puppy in training and pat him no matter what the rules are.
2. Blurters or Oversharers: They are the ones who are approaching you, but not sure, might turn away, don't want to bother you, but are so drawn to the puppy that they ultimately can't help themselves and finally, just come out and share with you things that may or may not relate to the puppy, but occured to them and they had to share it with you.

This nice lady was an oversharer.  She approached as if walking a tightrope with her hands held out for balance and said, "He's working isn't he?  I can't pet him."

Then she looked up at me.  She had been staring at Jam the whole walk over.  Jam was looking back at her calmly.  I smiled, kindly (I hoped), "No.  I'm so sorry, but when the coat is on he is on duty and can't be petted."

"I knew that." She stared at Jam.  Then began to share: "We have a yellow lab.  They are such wonderful dogs."

"Yes, they are.  They are the best dogs."  I think this puppy raiser gig is part counselor to the public sometimes.

She sighed.  "He's beautiful."

We all returned to dinner and about five minutes later, Michele said, "Uh, oh.  Husband approaching."

I turned to find myself staring at a cellphone with the photo of a yellow lab who looked remarkably like Jam sitting by the side of a pool. "Wow.  That dog does look like Jam." I said.  The man beamed at me.

"I know!"  Then, having shared his photo, he went back to his dinner.

Jam sitting on the seatwell of the golfcart with Michele in the driver's seat.

 When we got to school, we decided to take the golf cart to the baseball field.  Jam got to experience Michele's driving. It made him a little nervous, but he got over it and settled down.
 Once we got to the game I put his jacket back on as I didn't want people coming up and petting him all night.  That's when I had to destroy a soul or two.

 For Jam was the only dog at the game.  And he was mighty attractive.  And just like at the Tampa Prep baseball game we went to, there were lots of small children running around.  Only this time, their parents seemed to have run off and left them to fend for themselves.  So when a small, blonde 4-5 year old girl ran up out of the blue and patted Jam on the head both Jam and I were a little taken aback.  Where did this small child come from?  Who did she belong to?  Where were her parents?

I'm thinking: Can I give them the "Look at the coat" look and then I don't have to be the destroyer of souls or am I actually going to have to do it?  Will she come back?  Perhaps it was a one off.

Jam looking at the Bucs standing out on the pitcher's mound getting instructions.

But no.  Here she comes.  She rushes up and she's a zombie hand.  I take her hand and say in my nicest voice, "Sweetie, I'm so sorry, but did you know, that when this puppy is wearing his blue coat, no one can pet him?  He's working?"

And her adorable little face just falls into despair.  I am officially the worst person in the world.  She says nothing but turns and runs away and never comes back.

Is there a counselor out there for me? Destroyer of souls is a heavy burden to bear.

Snuggles

It began as a promise to a student in my class. He was on the baseball team and I always try to go to see the kids in my class either during a play or during a game or whatever it is they are involved with if at all possible.  I also try to bring Jam along (the hockey game and the football games were a couple of these events). This game was at Tampa Prep: enemy territory in so many ways.

The Terrapins are our chief rivals in volleyball and many other sports and we have a big rivalry with them in what we call the Headmaster's Cup.  We lost it this year to Tampa Prep. GRRRRRR.  Not that I am competitive in anyway, but I did tell Chris (the student who is on the baseball team) that we expected him to kick some major bootie last night.

So, in the spirit of a great night out, followed by a major butt-kicking sports event, we arranged a dinner with friends at Datz Deli (a delight and very guide dog in training friendly!).  I thought I knew what I was doing, but evidently, I was mistaken.  We were driving to Tampa Prep and we came upon a big lighted baseball field and I immediately assumed: "This is it!" So, we turned around, found parking and practically ran the block and a half to the field to find Christina who was waiting for us in the stands.

Text from Christina: I don't see you.

Text from Christina: You aren't at the baseball field across the street are you?

Text from me: Why, yes, we are.

Text from Christina: LOL

Crap on toast. We were at University of Tampa's baseball field.  GRRRRR.  So we had to walk across the street and be heckled by drivers: "Your dog is sexy!"

Really? That's what you yell out of your car at us?  My dog is sexy?  So Fred yells back, "Thanks!" and waves.  He's so nice.  I just roll my eyes and keep on walking.  I'm irritated because I am late, I parked in the wrong spot, I went to the wrong school and I just had my dog verbally abused.  Jam is not at all concerned.  If anything, his strut is a little more bouncy.  Does he know what sexy means?

Hmmmm. I wonder.  The did just do the breeder evaluation...

We see the Terrapin field.  As we are walking up to it a security guard drives up in a golf cart and tells Fred, "Only seeing eye dogs allowed."

"Well, good!  We've got one of those."  Fred continues walking.  I'm in my zone and have completely missed this exchange, which would have floored me because another puppy raiser works at Tampa Prep.  Surely they know that ALL service dogs would be allowed?

We make it to the stands.  Christina has scoped out a spot for us in the front row.  It is Terrapin Territory, but we can handle it. 

Jam standing and looking off to the side, Fred's arm along his back.

 Destin has just made a home run and the score now stands at 4-0 in Berkeley's favor. Go Bucs!

Jam's profile as he watches the game.

When we made our way to our seats we had to pass by a mom with her infant and a small, mobile boy.  I pegged him at about 3 years of age.  He was the fast, running kind of boy.  One of those who says, "Hey, watch me run from here to there!" and then runs without waiting for an ok.  You could tell his mom was already wondering what crazy idea had possessed her into bringing both of them to the game and why on earth did baseball take so frigging long?

We had Jam in a down under, with him beneath our legs.  As we were watching the game, the running boy, or Xavier as we later came to know him, came running by us.  And as if in a slow motion, underwater, Jacques Cousteau movie on barracudas and their feeding habits, Jam snaked out of the dark hole under our legs and dashed out directly at Xavier.  He timed it perfectly.  The end of his muzzle reached the air an inch away from Xavier's cheek when the leash checked him.  Xavier, who had pretty big round eyes to begin with, almost lost his eyeballs entirely.  They nearly popped completely out of his head, but he had such momentum, that he couldn't stop himself and so he went past the big furry barracuda and straight to his mom.

There was an intense moment of silence.

"MOM! That dog almost snuggled with me!"

Yep, Xavier, that is what happened.  In a split second, Jam went from barricuda to Snuggles.

Overhead shot of Jam as he is lying down on the bleachers.

We kept an eye on Xavier, who kept an eye on Jam who was wondering why Xavier kept running back and forth, but Snuggles stayed in a down stay. No more attack snuggling.

There was a moment in the 5th inning when Jam got a little gassy.  Fred  took him out to busy.  Xavier looked around for him.

"Where are they?" He asked.  "Maybe he ran off and they are chasing him?"  He kept a sharp eye out for Jam's return and was very relieved when Fred brought him back.  "See.  I told you they were on a walk." He told his mom.  She nodded and another piece of hair fell out of her ponytail.

As they were packing up to leave, Xavier edged closer and closer to us.

"Go on." His mom said.

"Does your dog bite?" He asked.

"No.  He doesn't bite.  He's going to be a guide dog someday.  He's in training.  He's supposed to be a nice dog." Fred had a hold of Jam.  Jam was facing out at Xavier.  "Would you like to pet him?"  Xavier nodded.  Then he put out a very uncertain little hand. A hand directly in front of the barracuda's mouth.

And Snuggles licked it.

"He licked me!" Xavier yelled.  He turned to his mom.  "He licked me!"

Jam sleeping on the bleachers.  Finally.

 His mom smiled. Fred smiled. Xavier smiled.

Jam licked his lips.

Take Me Out to a Ball Game

Thursday Bingo scored free tickets to a Threshers games and we were able to accompany him. I swear this dog gets out more than we do! Left to our own devices Fred and I would wander around the house and mutter, "What would you like to do?" "Oh, I don't know. What would you like to do?" "Look at the time! Perhaps we should just take a nap." Basically, we're just slugs and will sleep at the drop of a hat.

When we got to the stadium, Donna gave us a Do It Yourself obedience sheet that had five obedience challenges that we needed Bingo to practice.

1. Train, Not Restrain. Bingo is too excitable. So even though you can technically greet and pet in coat up to 10 months, we never have. Removing the coat and saying "take a break" would have resulted in CHAOS! So we opted for Bingo sitting pretty and me answering whatever questions they had about Southeastern Guide Dogs.

2. Food Distraction. We did stand in line at the concession stand. We also walked by a line, several times. Well, we walked by a particular piece of food that was in a line and practiced not lunging for it. He didn't lunge on the second try. Hoovering is a particular problem of his. He is better in the school cafeteria, but still lunges, just not constantly.

3. Stand/Stay in the Restroom. Accomplished. Nuff said. Do you really want a description of the bathroom?

4. Down/Under. Ah. This is where Bingo needs to really be a good boy. He has to be completely under the seat because people are walking in and out of the aisles and they can't be walking over him. I think he did a good job of this. Fortunately, the stadium is really clean and there wasn't gross stuff on the ground like there is in theaters. Theaters are frankly disgusting.



5. No Noses in Ears. Now, you wouldn't normally think about this as a problem, but if you are walking down an aisle and you have your guide dog with you and you are blind, you can't tell if they are poking their nose into people's chicken nuggets or ears as you go down the aisle. Unless of course they scream out, "HEY! Your guide dog just ate my chicken nuggets!" or "Whoa! Wet nose in ear! Gross!" So, this is something you want to make sure that your puppy isn't prone to doing. Our job was to walk him down an aisle in back of people and see if he would try to poke his nose in people's ears and then correct him if he did. In hindsight, I'm thinking this could have led to one of those old cartoon scenes where Bugs Bunny is running from Elmer Fudd and runs under the seats and all the people go flying upwards and their food goes flying as well! Fortunately, I didn't have time to have my imagination get the best of me.

First we had to find an aisle that had people who looked like they were dog friendly. This task was a bit tougher than it sounds because if you screw it up, you're toast! I would pick an aisle and Fred would point out a person and say "No. Looks grumpy." or "No, looks afraid of dogs." We finally decided on a half full row of mainly big guys to give us a little breathing room. One, guys usually like dogs regardless, and two, since they were big we figured maybe they wouldn't be so sensitive if Bingo did a quick ear touch.



Fortunately Bingo was completely unconcerned with other people's ears or their food. He stuck to my side all the way. Good boy!

At the end of the challenges, he was a most tired pup. We met his sister Alma there and learned that she and Bingo are both having problems with jumping up unexpectedly. I think the jump ups mostly occur when people make eye contact with them. They get really excited (Bingo and Alma, that is, the people are mainly just friendly.). But what are you going to say, "DON'T LOOK AT HIM!!! AVERT YOUR EYES!!!" He's got to overcome that. So, we'll continue to correct the behavior and hope it gets better. We've signed him up for a third obedience class with super trainer Jennifer. He will eventually get it. Here's a shot of the beginning of the meeting. Bingo was not in the circle of acceptance and we had to go sit outside and wait for him to calm down. I'm happy to report that by the end of all of our obedience steps that we were able to join the group and be within 3 feet of MIKEY!


Tomorrow, the tale of the all school convo and the library photo shoot and great escape!