A Frog's World

By Fred

Yes, the water falls from the sky in big drops. It soaks through the patio stones. The bushes droop under its weight, and the frogs have a new-found confidence because a wet back yard is a frog's favorite world. It is not Jam's world.

Jam prefers to stay inside when it rains. He will reluctantly go out to sit on the porch, but he will not venture beyond on his own, not without a leash, and then with a leash he will only walk along sadly and sigh. He will not pee or poop, not in the backyard when it is raining.

Then at bedtime he is given one more chance. Cheryl and I take turns with an umbrella, giving him all the various encouragements, lies, threats, reassurances, feigned indifference, etc. that we can imagine, because we know that he really needs to go and that the next opportunity will be early the next morning, or rather when he wakes us in the middle of the night, or worse.

And then we remember that our front yard is in a completely different universe for Jam. In the front yard, which is just as rainy and wet, he has no problem at all. Jam is keen to walk along and sniff at every soaking thing, as long as it's not in the back yard.

At the garage door I hold his leash in one hand and the umbrella in the other, and he is thrilled with the idea of walking out into the pouring rain, walking down the sidewalk and into the black night. Within 30 seconds he pees and poops.

Surely we have done something wrong...

Saved by the Bounce

Today was a calm day for Jam.  He seemed to have less than the normal amount of testosterone racing through his system resulting in a calm and steady, dare I say it, guide dog like presence today.

Apart from the small incident of leash tug of war (I won by virtue of taking him upstairs and making him do obedience for 10 minutes, which the kids reading up there found incredibly amusing), he was very good on the leash except for one incident on the way back to the library.

As we were walking through the mall to the library, a freshman boy in front of us started to bounce his tennis ball as he was walking.

Bounce.

Bounce.

Bouncey, bounce. Bounce.

Jam stopped and seemed to quiver all over.  Every hair seemed to stand on end like he was electrified.  I wasn't quite sure what was going to happen next.  Would he explode?  Or would he leap at the ball?

So before anything bad could happen I called out, "Hey, could you stop bouncing the ball until he can't see  you?"

The boy turned and saw that Jam was very nearly ready to pop.

"Yes, ma'am," he said cheerfully and walked away clutching his tennis ball.

Jam watched him out of the corner of his eye until we were headed off in another direction.

"Good boy Jam.  What a good boy you are."  I patted his head marveling that all of his hair was now flat against his skin.  "What a good boy you are."

Getting Ready for IFT: Sit-Stay and Down

Jam had his birthday a couple of weeks ago and his in for training (IFT) day we estimate is July 21st.  So, after I completed his CBARQ questionnaire, I went looking for the 12-month evaluation form for puppies.  But there wasn't one.  There was one for 14-month old puppies, so I looked at it.  

I noticed that there is a list of commands that all the puppies should know (and this list is up on our pantry).  However, on the 14-month eval, there are some details that the manual doesn't give you, such as time limits for a sit-stay and a down command (see below list). 

Jam, sitting down and looking up at the camera.

Commands Puppy Should Know:

• Forward (got it covered)
• Sit (working on his placement)
• Sit-Stay (3 min. Hmmmm)
• Down (5 min. Double HMMMMM)
• Stand (knows it, but doesn't always do it)
• Come (knows it, but we try only to do it with the leash on)
• Heel (knows it, but since the new Blue Coat Journal came out, we will be revisiting this)
• Switch (got it covered!)

Oh my.  A three-minute sit stay?  A five-minute down stay?  We hadn't really been timing them.  It was a good thing I had looked at the evaluation form because we now had our work cut out for us.  I decided we needed to do a baseline test to see what he could do. 


Let's see where we stood for the down command:

About a minute and a half in Jam gets bored and stretches, but doesn't break the down.

Jam finally rests about 3 minutes in.

The beeping of the camera disturbs him and he breaks the down at 3:21.  Over all, though a good down.

Now, for the sit-stay.

Jammy is in the sit position.

Jammy is getting sleepy about 45 seconds in and wants to lie down! No, Jammy!

Jammy is back in a sit, but still wants to lie down.

3:06 seconds.  We made it, but Jam tried to lie down three times.  I think that counts as breaking the sit-stay.  This sit-stay is going to be the hard one.  Jammy is a very lazy boy.

I think the sit-stay is going to be much harder than the down-stay.  Jam loves to lie down.  He isn't much for sitting.  Most of his sits merge into a down.  So, now we have a goal.  A 3-minute sit-stay.


We can practice this when he is in the library by my side at the table.  I'll start timing him.  We have two months. 


Not a problem.

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.

A Very Observant Puppy

Sometimes I forget that Jam is a lab.  That he has a history of hunting and chasing in his genes.  Some things will just come naturally to him.

So the other day when I was down in the lower division library in a meeting I was surprised to find Jam staring very intently at something.  But we couldn't figure out what it was. We followed his line of sight.

This year's theme for reading in lower division is Soar Into Reading and they have bird houses all over the library.  Bird houses with fake birds living in them.  Bird houses with fluffy fake birds all around them.  Most of the faux birds are very small, but there were these two owls...

Out of the entire library, Jam had found the two big owls and he stared at them.  He still followed commands and even went over to pose by them.  But he was aware of them and what they were.

I thought he showed enormous restraint.  Good boy, Jam.

Orchid Thief

By Fred

An ordinary life examined closely reveals itself to be exquisite and complicated and exceptional...
The Orchid Thief

Jam doesn't actually steal the orchids; he just knocks them over on his way from here to there. I noticed today, however, that he seemed more curious about them, and maybe just a little more gentle than in the past.

We've had the orchids on the porch for years, and we never really expected much from them, but this year they've bloomed all at once (all except two plants), mostly white blooms with splotches.

It has been difficult to teach Jam about the orchids. Fortunately, dogs don't require wordy explanations (and I really don't have any). They eventually just want to be good, if only for a while, like today.

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.