First Time in Harness

Today, we had our Southeastern Guide Dogs Puppy Raiser meeting at Largo Park.  It was our Area Coordinator Stephanie's first official meeting and she just happened to bring along two harnesses because there were several of our puppies who would be going in for training (IFT) in July and August and they hadn't ever worn a harness. (Our AC is super organized!)

Here is Stephanie, our new AC, holding two leather guide dog harnesses.

Coach was one of the first to be able to try on the harness and he put it on with nary a problem. 

Coach with the leather guide dog harness on over his blue cape.

 In fact, all the puppies who tried the harness, did so with great success! Go Central Puppies!!

Fred and Coach walking with the harness on.

Coach was able to walk for 5-10 minutes with the harness on and didn't find it uncomfortable at all.  All good signs!

Yay!

Only 36 days to go.

Six Shooters

Today marks the start of the In For Training countdown.  Tomorrow marks 38 days in which we will be taking our sweet boy back to Southeastern Guide Dogs to Guide Dog U to become a full-fledged Guide Dog.  To find his destiny.  

But until that time, there are things to do, places to go, boxes to check.  One of those boxes that we had to check was the vet box.  

Jam and Coach are on the tile and looking up at the camera in the vet's waiting room.

Coach needed to have a Bordatella vaccine, and he also needed to get his rabies vaccine, a letpo shot and an influenza shot.  Well, he happened to have a little hot spot (pododermatitis, for those of you in the know) on his left front paw, which necessitated another shot and by the time we were through, he was up to SIX shots!

Jam looks away from the camera rather pensively.

Jam was there for his first annual visit with Dr. Woodman, Animal Hospital of Northwood, who would now be his regular vet.  Dr. Don J. Woodman, who not only donates vet services to Southeastern, but is a puppy raiser with his family, was going to get the details about Jam's trachea weirdness and let us know what the medical plan was going to be (other than don't walk him in the heat and keep him nice and trim).

Shot of Dr. Woodman giving Coach a shot in the booty while Coach is being held
by Dr. Woodman's assistant.Coach is wondering how many shots this is...

Meanwhile, back in the bootie area, Dr. Woodman had to give poor little Coach 6 injections.  Coach took it really well.

Close-up of Coach's nose with his face blurred in the background.

There was no crying.  No howling.  No whimpering.

Close-up of the spent syringes, all 6 of them on the metal table.

I would have whined a little.  At least until I got a cookie.  

They both got a cookie.  You can always count on a cookie at Dr. Woodman's.  

Day 39 was a successful day.

Lunching with Super Models

Since we have gotten Jam back, we have been taking "the boys" out for lunch.  Dunedin has several restaurants with patios where both Coach and Jam, who doesn't have a coat, are welcome.

One of those restaurants is The Dunedin Smokehouse. They love Coach and are super friendly to dogs on the patio.  They always bring out bowls of water for them. There are other restaurants, but on Sunday, we went to the Smokehouse because we wanted some amazing barbecue (their wings are splendid as well!).

Photo of Jam under the table looking up at me and smiling.

What I've noticed about taking the boys out in public is how many stares we get.  As soon as we got to our table, the small boy at the neighboring table had run over and asked to pet Jam.  I said yes.  Jam was lying down on the ground as the boy told me about his lab and how it was in the hospital.

"Oh no.  Is he getting better?"

"She's getting better every minute," he said with confidence.  He patted Jam on the head and stroked his neck and down his body.  Then he patted his feet. "Those are big feet."

"Yes, they are."

"Thanks!" He jumped up and ran back to his table.

Coach is sitting and smiling and looking at the camera.

Last weekend when we went to the smokehouse, there was an older couple sitting a few tables away from us and they just could not keep their eyes off of Jam and Coach.  The lady in particular would eat some of her sandwich and gaze with adoration at him, much as I imagine women gaze at Ryan Gosling doing yard work without a shirt on a film shoot.  Finally, she called over to us.

"He is so beautiful." She waved her hand at Jam. Her husband was nodding in the background.

Fred and I smiled.  "Thank you.  They are pretty well behaved too." I tell her about Jam being dropped from Southeastern's guide dog program.  They are very impressed with Jam and think Coach is the bee's knees.

When we first got Jam he was fuzzy like a polar bear.  Very distinctive.  On one of our first outings to the Sarasota Discovery Center we made the mistake of eating lunch at St. Armand's Circle at a table next to a big picture window.  Jam was in full view of every tourist who was passing by.  We learned what it was like to be a zoo animal as almost everyone stopped and pointed at Jam and then mouthed the words: "HE IS SO BEAUTIFUL!" It was like eating lunch with super models.

Now, when I take Coach out, everyone comments on how handsome he is, but the two of them together seems to be an overwhelming amount of labby attractiveness.  Coach goes in for training on July 20th. Until then, we will try to spread his handsome mug around as many places as we can.

A Lavender Blurrr

By Fred
Ever since Cheryl learned about the therapeutic effect of lavender, our home smells like an Victorian English whorehouse, and for the past several days I've been wandering around in a lavender daze, as if I weren't calm enough before. We now have a variety of lavender power dispensers, misters and sprays, and there's a giant vat of lavender oil in the garage. The air is so thick with it that I sometimes can't see across the room.

A blurry picture of Coach with a sweet smile.
He looks a little drunk on lavender.

Little Coach is a sweet guy, a really cool dude, and I get the feeling that lavender is the last thing he needs.

But who's complaining. Not us.

Jam Goes In For Training

Photo of the welcome sign: Welcome to Freshman Orientation @ Guide Dog U

Saturday was Jam's day to go in for training, or Guide Dog U as it is known.  This day is something that is not necessarily looked forward to by puppy raisers but is acknowledged as one of those sad, sad days that you have to go through in order to experience the joy of puppy raising.  It can't all be puppy breath and kisses.

Fred and I are kneeling to the left of Jam's sign with his portrait on it.  There is some sun glare off  to the left so you can't really see our expressions.

Southeastern Guide Dog's puppy department has a sign for each dog entering the dorms that has his name and 6 week puppy portrait.  Here we are sitting with Jam by the sign.  At first I was a little annoyed that the volunteer didn't get closer so that you could actually see the sign and our faces, but now, I realize, that you also can't see that we have just completely lost it.  I, didn't make it past driving through the gates.

We are standing at the Southeastern rock sign.  I'm on the left and Fred and Jam are on the right.  Jam is sitting.  Fred and I are standing.

It does help that you are surrounded by some of your good friends and we happened to have some very good friends with us that day, which is why you see some smiles on this photo by the Southeastern sign.

Fred is sitting on a bench at the very back with Jam lying at his feet waiting for Jam's name to be called.

Jam was the second dog of the second set to be called in to go.  It was a little upsetting for me, because Fred started down the aisle to the right and I went with him.  Then I realized that I had forgotten the little sheet of paper with instructions for the trainers on Jam (of course, I just thought it was for serious things and put down his poop and eating habits, which are weird and I was a bit worried about them.  But after I filled it out Leslie told us they also wanted to know about what kind of pats and rubs he liked and I didn't get to put that down, which is making me cry now.  So, I'm going to tell you: he likes to be scratched under his chin and he likes his butt scratched at the base of his tail.  He is not a cuddler, per se.  He's more cat like and will twine about your legs. There.  Now you know.). So, I ran back up the aisle to get it, but Fred kept walking and took Jam to trainer Karen.  I came down the other aisle.

Trainer Karen is hooking Jam up to the leash, but Jam is looking away from her off to the right. He is looking at me walking up to him. Photo by Durga Garcia.

I guess Jam didn't know where I was, so he was looking for me, which I didn't know until I saw these photos taken by fellow puppy raiser Durga Garcia, who is also a professional photographer.

Photo of me looking down at Jam for the last time. Photo by Durga Garcia.

So, I tried to give him a hug, but I think as soon as he saw me, he figured things were ok and he wanted to go off with trainer Karen.  He was ready to go.  So they walked off and like all the puppies before him, he went off happy and excited and he never looked back.

And we wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Wordless Wednesday

Willow and Jam sitting in front of the koi pond.

For our first wordless Wednesday for the Blogpaws community, I wanted to get a shot of Willow, our chocolate lab and Jam, our guide dog puppy in training, who goes back in for training on Saturday.  They are great friends and I think Willow will be very sad to see Jam leave.  Jam is the only puppy that Willow actually asks to play with her.

 This is part of the Wordless Wednesday blog hop at Blogpaws:

A Saturday Weeping

Saturday, July 21st, Jam will be going In For Training (or IFT as it is affectionately known).  Now, it is a full morning of activities called Guide Dog U, starting at 8 am at Southeastern Guide Dogs.  Here is the itinerary:

Jam, sitting, while Fred is at the end of the leash.

• Arrival of puppies
• Puppies taken to Freshman dorms (receiving kennels)
• Campus tour (this is where puppy hugging happens as all the moms and dads are weeping and in need of some loving), blindfold walks and refreshments
• Presentations
• Guest speaker
• Closing comments and farewell

When we arrive we are to come with Jam and a packet of information.  His medical records should have already been faxed several weeks prior.  He is still intact, so he is a breeder candidate.  In addition to his medical records, Southeastern has us provide them and the trainers and the potential visually impaired or blind person that Jam will hopefully be paired up with information about us and about Jam.

I filled out that paperwork on Saturday. I cried through most of it.

Fred and Jam inside the Leepa-Rattnor Museum in Tarpon Springs.

When asked to share fun and positive adventures, I wrote the following:

"Taking Jam out is almost like having Brad Pitt with you.  He stops traffic.  When he was a little puppy, he was so cute that Fred and I had to go together to stores because we would be inundated with people wanting to stop and talk with us about how handsome Jam is.  One time after a meeting in Sarasota, we were eating lunch at St. Armand's Circle and had a table by the big picture window.  I felt like I was having lunch with Elvis because people would stop and stare and point at Jam.  Then they would wave at us and mouth, "He's gorgeous!"  Yes, yes, move along!

Jam is a super sweet boy.  I think his most endearing quality is how much he wants to be with you and follow you.  I love the feel of him on my feet.  (This is where I start to cry.) He loves to work and is very smart.  He loved going to school.  When he had some growing pains and had to stay at home, you could tell he wasn't happy.  He wanted to work, see the kids, walk and do the commands.

Fred and Jam walking up at a figure of Andy Warhol.

For additional comments and our wishes for whomever is matched with Jam, I wrote:

My hope is that Jam becomes a guide dog for someone because it seems to me that he really wants a job and someone to love.  Jam does have a sense of humor, as well.  So in the end, what we wish is that your partnership be one of love, happiness with obedience and some laughs.

Jam and Fred getting ready for the goodbye dinner.  Fred is trying to put Jam's coat on him.

Weeping is full blown now

Of course the trainers just want the facts.  The unvarnished reality of Jam.  All of his good and his less than ideal traits.  How do I put down counter surfer and not feel like a failure for not being able to get that behavior under control?  Jam's stubbornness is mammoth.  Squirt bottles and corrections were nothing in the face of a potential yummy that might be had.  And yet, he is so smart.  He knew the switch command at 4 months (we did it every Monday-Wednesday-Friday).

He will Drop It.  So tell me, why does he pick it up again?!!!

This morning, as it has been every morning the summer off, I have been woken up by my furry alarm clock: Jam.  He usually lets me sleep until 7:30 am.  Then he will put his two front paws on the bed and poke his nose in my face.  If I say, "No." He lies back down until I am ready to get up.  But he is most happy if I wake up then.  Because he has been waiting patiently by my bedside for me to awaken.

In Jam's world, there is only room for one beloved (he is what they call a hard bonder).  Fortunately for him, his heart is so big he will give it willingly to another person if his beloved is not around.  So, on Saturday, whomever calls his name, be prepared not only to take his leash, but his big heart with you as well.

IFT: In For Training

I've been avoiding the day. I've been avoiding the forms. I've been avoiding the post, frankly. but the day came anyway.

I had it all figured out. I was so smart. I had arranged for HRH Berkeley (that's what we're calling her, her royal highness Berkeley or HRH for short or sometimes just pretty princess) to arrive a week before Bingo left to distract us all from the trauma to come. It worked. We were nuts. New puppy in the house craziness (more on that later) aside, it did serve as a welcome distraction in someways and not in others.

The day before he left, I had a meeting at work and I took Bingo with me so that he would have some me time and get away from the puppy. Afterwards we all went out for lunch. Near the end of lunch, I took him to the restaurant with me. Now, mind you that this whole week, I haven't shed one tear I have been so busy with the puppy. I have been rather pleased with myself actually thinking how I have it all in hand and have made this wonderful decision and have it all worked out, aren't I the smart one.

We walk to the restroom and open the stall door. It's one of those small stalls. Bingo isn't real thrilled with the cramped space and gives me a peeved glance. "Oh, squash it." I turn him all around until he is sitting at the front of the stall and I am sitting on the toilet staring at him. Again with his meaningful glance. I begin to think, "this is the last time I will be with Bingo in a restaurant bathroom, ever." And then to my astonishment, I begin to cry. In the bathroom of Toojays in International mall. Bingo looks at me. I throw my arms around him and hug him. Did I hear a flush? I don't care.

I wait a while. Then I let him go and finish. Back out to wash my hands and pretend I am under control. Only now, I know that it is a facade.



What you see above is a photo taken by Mary Lou Garcia (Durga Garcia Photography), who also happens to be a puppy raiser and the owner of Rob the lab on the far left. Bingo is in the middle and Jim is on the right. I love this shot because it shows the boys getting back to knowing each other as littermates again. We didn't turn our boys in alone.



We met as a group, took some photos (the best of which came from Mary Lou!) and then we turned the boys into SEGD. Then we had lunch and went back home. What was good about this plan was that since we were in a big group, I was forced into maintaining some semblance of calm and composure. So I was able to get through the passing them off to the trainer ok.



Plus, SEGD believes in the ripping the bandaid off quickly approach to turning your puppy IFT. So once you say you are ready to turn your puppy in, make sure you've said your goodbyes and have taken all your photos.



The only photos left are the ones with their new trainers. Bingo had Kayla.



We all lunch after that and talked about different things. Then we headed home. I was congratulating myself for getting through the day with a minimum of tears. Having the comfort of friends was a great idea and really helped. Having the process be quick was excellent as well.

So that night when I turned out all the lights and was walking up the stairs to bed and saw Bingo's crate broken down in pieces because we only need one crate now, you all know I didn't cry don't you?

Bingo's Impact

I got a call last week from Chuck telling me that on July 1st we would be getting a black lab female puppy. That exciting news heralded the bittersweet news that Bingo was in all probability going In For Training (IFT) in July. Despite being a blockhead (in some respects, in other respects he is a sweet boy), he would in all likelyhood be joining some of his littermates and starting the next phase of his journey to become a guidedog.

It got me to thinking about the impact of Bingo on the school, on us and on his future life partner. Some of you may know Mike Jernigan (who is a spokesman for Paws for Patriots (this link has a short video of Mike and Brittani and a description of how Paws for Patriots got started) for SEGD). I had an opportunity to have a fairly in-depth conversation with him and his wife and it happened to be on Bingo's birthday. He had Brittani with him and we tried to get the dogs together, but Bingo was just too excited. Leslie and Mike were very sweet saying, "He was very good the first 10 seconds."

"That was shock." I said. I looked back at Bingo who was not being a good boy and was on a tie down and was straining to get to Brittani. I shut the office door on him.

Mike talked about what an impact Brittani had made on his life. I want that same connection for Bingo and his partner. That's what this whole process has been about. And I know that when I push away the thought of driving up to Southeastern and opening the door to the car and saying, "Bingo, out," for the last time, there will come a payment due. I know it will be sad (Fred might even go so far as to say traumatic). However, I remember the main goal: he's someone's chance at freedom.

But I also know that I will not be alone in my grief. One of the lower division faculty members came up to me on Friday when Bingo was out of coat to pet him and told me that her daughter had been begging her to get a dog. She was holding firm and said no. Her daughter started to cry, "Well, at least I have Bingo!"

Bingo isn't just my dog. He's the school's dog. I walk down the hall with him and it's like walking with a rock star.

"There's Bingo!"

"It's Bingo!"

"Look! It's Bingo. Do you see him!"

And it happens every day I bring him to school. For some kids, it's enough to just catch a glimpse of him walking by. That's their dog. Bingo is theirs.

And so next year, when our new little girl comes to school, they will adopt her and make her theirs as well, but I can guarantee you that they will want the Bingo report cards and status updates. Whomever gets Bingo needs to know that they are acquiring a dog with a huge extended family who loves him and is very concerned about his welfare and happiness.