McLean Puppy Chronicles: What happens when you do the unthinkable and open yourself up to raise a puppy to give away to someone else: You create joy and freedom for a visually impaired person. We're puppy raisers for Southeastern Guide Dogs. Read about our journey.
By Fred
I admit I was skeptical of the idea when Cheryl first mentioned it. Coach, a Southeastern guide dog puppy, had become more and more reluctant to get into the car. Last weekend he had two episodes of car sickness, poor guy, so his attitude is understandable.
Cheryl's idea was to put food into his wobbly toy and let him play with it in the car, to keep him busy and keep his mind off of car-sickness. As a human being, I have some rigid ideas about nausea. If I feel like vomiting, for example, I am not tempted to run into the kitchen, find a snack, and then roll around on the floor and play with it. Yes, I was skeptical.
Cheryl gave it a try on the way to work, and the wobbly toy kept Couch busy the entire way. He ate his breakfast on the move, had fun, and no car sickness.
A picture of the wobbly toy in the car,
tempting Coach to come in.
So on Thursday I gave it a try for his breakfast. He got into the car pretty much on his own. Then we drove around the neighborhood for a few minutes. Amazing.
A picture of Coach struggling with a dilemma:
should he get into the car on his own?
And, if so, would I get the wrong idea?
At lunch we took a trip to the grocery store. Again the wobbly toy worked, though Coach wanted me to know that he doesn't particularly like being manipulated in this way.
Coach sitting at my feet at the checkout stand of the grocery story. He was perfect.
In the store he was perfect, prancing up and down the aisles and flirting. And back in the parking lot I waited as he climbed into the car on his own.
Yes, the wobbly toy was a great idea, even though I doubted it. Sometimes this happens.
By Fred
Cheryl is back at school, back to her normal busy routine, and today is Coach's first day here with me. On Tuesdays and Thursdays we will work on being a good citizen of the house.
A picture of Coach with big, round eyes.
A good citizen of the house does not run up and down the stairs; he does not pee or poop on the floor; he does not seem too sad when I eat lunch in front of him, and he does not sniff my plate if I walk away for a second; he does not chew my shoelaces when I'm on the phone; he does not torture Willow; he knows (somehow) when I am busy with work and when I am bored with work; he licks my face but not the furniture; he pretends to understand what I'm saying.
So far, Coach is a very good citizen, but it's just his nature.
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.
By Fred,
Sometimes Jam's prodigious production of saliva fluid slows a bit, and his normally slippery upper lip sticks to the side of his teeth, giving him a little snarl, very much like Elvis would look, if Elvis were reincarnated as a yellow lab.
Is Jam Really Elvis?
Actually, that would explain much of Jam's behavior: the fondness for peanut butter, the tendency toward silly behavior, the passion for blue capes, and the boyish exuberance for the opposite sex. And especially that playful snarl of the upper lip.
Years passed, and Willow suffered through more puppies, though with a mindset always pointed to the future and to a greater purpose, always preparing them for the tough life ahead while remembering one central point: like children, all puppies deserve to be happy.
On more than one occasion she wondered about her old friend Jam and how he was doing as a guide dog. She allowed herself to swell up with pride, knowing that his success was her success, even if no one else would ever know.
Then one day, while resting in her favorite spot, a warm set of stones near the fish ponds, eyes closed and dreaming of things past, she felt a slight tickle on her nose. There was her old friend Jam, ready to tour the yard as though he had never left.
Nothing was more familiar, more welcome, than that rush of adrenaline, and nothing was better than sharing the moment with your best friend, sniffing in that common scent, twitching and bracing to jump up together and run when the time was right to best surprise the squirrel and provide for him the most terrifying moment of his existence.
But Willow realized, in just that instant, that this game could not continue as before, not if she hoped to ever prepare Jam for his future of great expectations. With a sigh she turned away and slumped to the ground, feeling the full weight and dispair of her decision and leaving Jam perplexed as to what to do next.
On the notion of Sit, Jam had mixed feelings, not about its meaning but about its intent, because it never resolved to a better condition or mastery of the moment. No, it seemed to have no purpose at all except to earn praise and move things along to a desired result--to go outside or to get some food or to engage in any other activity not performed better by sitting beforehand, or after, as far as he could figure.
Still, he knew the word from his puppyhood and responded to it reflexively. Willow knew a few other such words, and she went through each of them twice or three times, with Jam responding as he should, until at the end the two dogs sat and stared at each other in silence, not sure what to do next.
In no time Jam had become Jam again, the notions of his future life already evaporated from his mind. But Willow could not put aside the frog's words because somehow he had known part of the truth. He had known what happens every summer; that her companions always leave home to pursue greater expectations while she does not.
So when Jam returned to her with a playful nudge, Willow resolved to tell him the truth, at least to the meager extent that she knew it--she had only seen Bingo once since he left two years ago (and he had not been forthcoming about his new situation) and she had not seen Berkeley at all (and did not regret the fact). Could it be that the frog actually spoke the truth, as fantastical as it seemed? If so, even if true only in a small portion, she knew what must be done.
"You'll be going to school soon, a very demanding school," Willow said, though Jam's attention had already shifted to activity in the koi pond. She then told Jam what she imagined about his future, interpreting what the late frog had said (if such things are really possible), about how Jam would have more responsibility than seems wise to give to any dog, particularly to one with such a capricious nature.
She devised a plan to help prepare him for the future. "In short," she said to him with a sigh, "you must become a common dog before you can be an uncommon one."
On hearing the details, Jam rose up and agreed to take seriously Willow's new plan, where she would play the future headmaster and Jam the attentive pupil.
"Were do we begin?" he asked.
Willow considered this for a moment, realizing that she had no idea about where to begin, or to end for that matter.
And so the frog continued, now speaking directly to Jam with a certain impatience, as if he considered Jam a fool for the look of breathless curiosity and surprise on his face. "It is considered that you must be better educated, in accordance with your altered position, and that you will be alive to the importance and necessity of at once entering on that advantage."
As the details emerged about the nature of his future life, his training and his expectations, Jam was increasingly lost in the mazes of his future fortunes, now fully removed from the adventure that he and Willow had pursued just a few seconds earlier.
Willow, on the other hand, fell into a kind of stupor and attempted to close her ears, attempted to wind back the clock just a few minutes and continue on to the pond with her friend Jam as if this frog had not appeared and his terrible words not spoken.
The frog continued to speak until Willow had reached her limit; she lunged forward in a flash, her white teeth severing the toad in mid-sentence and leaving his dismembered legs twitching on the stone patio floor.
Only seconds after it was over, Jam could scarcely remember the event--what the frog had said, how the frog had been eaten, or even if there had been a frog at all.
Her Royal Highness (HRH) Berkeley is pictured above taking it easy at the Harry Potter Film Festival held last Friday in the Jean Ann Cone Library at my school. It went from 4 pm until 10 pm and we were able to watch HP 4, play some trivia, have a spell casting session, get sorted into our houses, and have a costume contest before ending with HP 6. We also had plenty of food! HRH had no problem with the costumes as you can see. Her main problem was not eating the food on the floor!
One of the things they don't mention in the guide dog puppy manual is that you have to pick up other people's dog poo. Why? Well, because MY DOG is the only dog anybody knows is on campus. So, if they find poo on campus, guess who's dog did it? My dog!
Friday at the Harry Potter film festival, I took Her Royal Highness out to poo and there was some poo waiting for us. How convenient. HRH didn't need to poo. So I got to pick up someone else's poo.
Thanks, person who doesn't pick up after your dog on a school campus. You're a peach! But I've got your back. That's why I carry around poo bags 24/7 on my lanyard. 8-)
This year, I picked out a costume for Her Royal Highness (HRH) Berkeley. One that she could wear and that we all could coordinate with. She was Madama Butterfly and we were butterflies in waiting and our friend Karene, the chemistry teacher, was a crazy entomologist following us around with a magnifying glass! 8-)
Here is HRH's outfit. Pink and purple wings with a headband antennae (our wings coordinated, of course!).
HRH was pretty good about letting us put the outfit on her. The hard part was figuring out how the outfit went on. Here we obviously have it wrong. The front part goes in front of her front legs!
Then we had to figure out the back ties. They were made for a much bigger lab. We think HRH might be a pygmy lab. She is the runt of the litter and is only 42 pounds at 6 months.
I finally gave up and just tied the back in a bow. It worked.
She gave me a big lick in the face when we were all done with the wings. But there was one more part of the costume to go: the headband!
Would you believe she wore it for the Entire Day! Never once tried to take it off. I think she thought it was a crown or a tiara. 8-)
Here she is watching the little lower division kids parade by with their costumes. Their reactions were awesome. Every time they caught sight of her, they would say, "Look at BERKELEY!" And they pointed and smiled and laughed. It was SOOOOO worth it. All the middle division kids loved it, the upper division kids loved it and the faculty loved it. She made EVERYONE'S day. She was a happiness generator on Wednesday. It was so cool.
After the parade, I put her coat on and then put the wings on over her coat. She still looked cute.
Saturday turned into a long, long day. It started out with a trip to Home Goods. We were looking for a baking stone and a wooden peel. Home Goods didn't have one. So, we continued on to our lunch date with Amy at the Red Mesa Cantina (best Mexican food!). We arrived early and went to the Publix to see about a baking stone (no luck, but they did have some odd pan that guaranteed browning that Fred wanted to try). On the way back, Fred went to drop off the pan and I took Her Royal Highness (HRH) in to the Cantina.
When we went inside the hostess took a look at us and said, "Inside or out?" and then answered her own question. "Outside?" She starts to walk us out to the patio (seen below in a photo from their website). I start to say something about being able to sit inside, but thinking that it is a nice day, go along for the ride.
Outside is PACKED. There are two tables open. She takes us to the table that is opposite a table with two standard poodles at it. Standard poodles being the big kind of poodle (60-70 pound range). These black hooligans were none too pleased when we walked up and immediately leaped to their feet and gave voice to their displeasure. I looked at the hostess and said, "This won't work."
I walked back toward the restaurant with the hostess bringing up the rear. I turned to her, "Since she has her coat and can be inside, I think it would be better for everyone if we got a table inside." She half heartedly waved to the empty high-top table as we passed it, but I was headed for the inside and she had really given up at this point.
After lunch we went to Lowe's where HRH was billed and cooed over. There was a couple who stopped us and commented on how lovely she was. They said that their sister was disabled and had a working dog and that HRH was doing a great job. They seemed really tickled by her.
After Lowe's it was on to the grocery store: Publix. We have now been out and about for 5 hours. HRH has been a dream dog. Lovely manners, walking like a sweetie. You name it, she is doing it.
I have the cart filled up with groceries and we have run into the Lowe's couple in the Publix and smiled and nodded at each other. HRH is holding her own until the avocado incident.
I had picked out some avocados for Fred to make some guacamole (he is the guacamole king!) for my tea party on Sunday, but he said my avocados were too soft and he wanted all new avocados.
"Fine. I'll wait over in the bakery." I took HRH with me and the full cart to wait in the bakery. HRH look up at me and then she did the flop.
FLOP.
Then she grabbed the leash in her mouth and started to chew it. I yanked it out and said, "No!"
She hopped up and tilted her head and then it came out. Like a clear, pure bell. A perfect note. A single bark. And like a roomfull of zombies who smell a fresh brain, all heads turned to look at me.
I turned to look at Fred. "Fred!" I shouted over to the produce department. "We are out of here!"
I think I saw the Lowe's couple laughing, but I was moving too fast to be sure.
The lower division librarian invited Her Royal Highness (HRH) Berkeley to visit one of the 1st grade reading times on Friday. So a week ago we paid a surprise visit as did the Lower Division Director, who is reading the story. HRH started off the storytime with her coat on, but after the story was over the kids got to pet her (one at a time!).
Here you can see one child petting HRH as the others look on longingly. They were so well behaved (as was HRH, really!) In fact, I was tickled when at the end of the period, Trey came over to me and in a very serious voice said, "Berkeley has very pleasant manners." I said, "I think so too. Thank you for saying so."
Her she is with her royal face on. Behave, little ones!
Finally, after waiting 6 months for Willow and Her Royal Highness (HRH) Berkeley to figure out how to get along, I caught them playing nicely the other day. Actually having a good time playing with a toy together. Like a pair of normal dogs and not the usually bickering dorks they generally are!
The weekend was our annual hotel experience with the Model United Nation's club at my school. We took Bingo last year and it was the perfect hotel experience and the kids seemed to enjoy it as well. The conference is called KnightMUN and is held at UCF's campus on Saturday and Sunday, which means a VERY early rising on Saturday morning and a late return on Sunday night.
4:20 am
The alarm should have gone off at 4:20 am, but it didn't. It was on the 5 days a week schedule and this being a Saturday...I woke up at 4:50.
"Holy crap! Berkeley! Downstairs, eat, poop, out the door!"
We managed to be on the road in 20 minutes. I had packed and showered the night before. 8-)
Fortunately for us, we weren't the last ones to arrive. I won't tattle on anyone (faculty or student!), but I did rest a little easier knowing that we had a little time to chill. Here's a shot of Her Royal Highness (HRH) Berkeley in the car waiting for that last student to arrive so we can get on the road.
Orlando
We followed the bus to Orlando and met them at the Panera where we all had breakfast. Imagine the Panera staff's excitement at having 30 teens surge through their doors all famished and needing caffeine and carbs! Followed closely by teachers needing caffeine. Not a comforting sight. Then add to that, a small black dog. The Panera staff made not a peep. Good Panera staff! Good.
Radisson
We dropped the kids off at the conference, got them registered and then went to the hotel to register our rooms. Since I had HRH, Michele was already at the counter getting the rooms assigned. As I walked up to the counter I could see the hotel clerk's face get stiff and her posture go rigid. She turned from Michele to address me.
"We don't allow dogs in the hotel."
"She's a service dog for the blind. She's in training." I said and had HRH sit, which she did beautifully. She has a perfect sense of audience.
Michele looked up from the folder she was perusing and in her very clear, not to be messed with teacher voice, said, "We come here ever year with a service dog and there has never been a problem. It's the ADA. Look it up." Then she went back to her forms, dismissing the clerk.
The clerk glanced at me and I raised an eyebrow, signifying that I wouldn't mess with Michele if I were the clerk and she should drop the matter if she were smart, which she did. I love Michele.
Here's a shot of one of the MUN kids bringing in HRH's crate. Mitchell carried in her crate and carried it out. He's a big HRH fan.
Barnes and Noble
The nice thing about MUN tournaments is that for us, as chaperones, we get lots of work done because we spend the day in the bookstore. Here is a shot of HRH and Tim in the cafe of Barnes and Noble. They also were lovely about HRH and treated us very well.
I'm So Pretty
When we got back to the hotel room Berkeley got to experience the BIG MIRROR. Here's a snippet of her reaction. I have to say that Bingo was mesmerized by himself for at least 15 minutes. 8-)
Closing Ceremonies
The next day it was more of the same and HRH continued to be a little lady. It was only at the end of the day at the closing ceremonies, sort of like a toddler who has been up too long and needs a nap, she started to bark a little and be a bit crotchety. But the screaming, cheering crowd drowned out her little barks and all was good.
Soon we were on the road and homeward bound. Hotel experience, checked off.
Bingo's new owners are a young, athletic couple who absolutely love him and let him sleep in their bed. How they all fit in there, I have no idea! 8-) Bingo is quite a big boy, but I am sure he is a happy camper about it.
They also have a pool and allow him to go swimming everyday. He was always getting overheated, so this is the perfect thing for him. You can see from the photo of him below in the pool what a happy pup he is.
Now, I don't know where his new owners live, but if I had my way, they would be nearby so that we could puppysit Bingo when they went on vacation. But I don't think the adoption rules allow knowing that info, unfortunately. So I will be content knowing he is in a happy place with people who love him!
We are still plagued with a puppy who barks. I've figured out several reasons why Her Royal Highness Berkeley barks:
I'm sick of this place and I want to leave.
Pay attention to me. Now!
Don't stop petting me. (This to Austin, a freshman who came in to visit her. He had the unfortunate experience to be a wonderful dog petter and then he stopped. She was not amused.)
This is boring. (See #1, very similar)
I hate the library (although, this might be, the floor is cold and I hate the library).
All of the above are not acceptable. She can't be a barker. But we are at our wit's end about what to do about it. Take for example last Friday at the all school convo where we were celebrating our school's 50th anniversary. (Yeah, I'm going there, stay with me.)
Here is a shot of Her Royal Highness sitting comfortably behind my shoes on the gym floor with the bleachers at her back. We got through the prayer and the pledge just fine. We all sang the Alma Mater great. But then the speeches started and HRH began to get a wee bit restless. She did a bit of twisting and twirling and then she did her little part groan/part low bark. In poker, they call it a tell. When you do something that let's other people in on what's in your hand, what you are up to. It's a precursor to the I'm going to through a fit in a minute. I turned to the religion teacher on my left who was sitting at the end of the bleacher.
"Would you change seats with me? She's going to bark."
"Uh, sure!" She leaped up and we moved over. Then I looked back to the exit door. HORRORS! It was filled with children! All sitting down and covering the floor. Not a smidge of room to make an exit. Time for the librarian stare.
I turned to the first few kids nearest me, "I need a pathway to the exit door!" I managed to put a high degree of panic in my voice (how that happened I have no idea (think Headmaster!). Suddenly, as if I were Moses, there was a path through the upper students to the exit door. I sat and waited for the fit.
Two minutes later, it arrived. right as the alum from 1974 was extolling the virtues of going to school with crocodiles (seriously, I was no longer listening), HRH made a joyful, piercing noise. One bell ringing, high pitched, get me the heck out of here bark. The entire school heard it.
Without making eye contact with anyone, we high tailed it out the parted red sea of upper division students and I deposited her back in the library for a little nap and partial time out with Jan.
Fortunately for HRH, she does have an exceedingly beautiful face and a charmingly waggy tail which can go into wag overdrive at a truly amazing speed. So on those days when she barks, I am now trying to focus on the tail and not the head. Bark less, wag more. One of my students bought me a coffee mug that said that and also to think pawsitive. It is very cute and is in my office to remind should I become discouraged with her.
Here's a short video with a few scenes of HRH shaking her tail feathers. Watch for her putting it all in overdrive!
Sometimes, you have to blow off some steam. One of the rules at Southeastern is that you can't play fetch outside. You don't want your dog to become one of those fetch obsessed dogs who keeps looking at you and waiting for you to throw something rather than looking around and keeping you safe.
Another rule is that we can't have any toys like balls or frisbees. Again, especially for labs, it is easy for them to become obsessed with a toy like a ball and then transfer that obsession into the outdoors and stop working when they meet up with someone bouncing a ball or playing frisbee. Below is one of Her Royal Highness's favorite toys: a hedgehog. She's on her second one.
Since the hedgehog is roughly circular in shape, we decided one day when HRH was particularly filled with beans, to use it to blow off some steam.
We had a rough week, but it has ended on an up note. It could have gone either way, but luckily for us and for Jordan (who's Bat Mitzvah it was) it went really well and Her Royal Highness Berkeley decided that appearing before a crowd merited some good behavior.
One of the things she does really well is the Out command.
Here is a shot of Her Royal Highness (HRH) Berkeley waiting patiently in the well of the car for me to give her the Out command so she can leave the car. Berkeley always waits for me to gather my purse and get situated. She never lunges for the ground.
When we first arrived at the St. Pete Country Club, several people thought I had Elvis, her brother. She did great upon arrival, handling the crowd just fine. We made our way over to the Trapper table.
This was to be our table. As we walked by people, I had to explain that you couldn't pet her as she had her coat on. But everyone was very receptive and friendly.
At the table everyone had a dog bone cookie saying that there had been a donation made in their name to the Southeastern Guide Dogs. That was pretty cool!
All the flower arrangements were in dog bowls because raising Jim was Jordan's mitzvah project and the theme was SEGD and dogs. All the bowls and other items were donated to SEGD. It was a really cute theme and was done beautifully.
At first when John showed up with Dodger, I though, "Oh man! This was a bad idea. He should have sat on the other side of the table." All Dodger and HRH tried to do was get next to each other. So for the next 10 minutes all John and I did was grunt hello and then wrestle our dogs into down-under. I discovered the magic two-legged under chair scoot, where by you put your dog in a down position and by keeping your hand on their shoulder blades, use your two heels to scoot their body back under your chair. Try it at a full dining room table! It will make you sweat through your finery. 8-)
When I got her settled away from Dodger she decided that she wanted to be near him and barked. That's usually when she barks: when she is not near someone she wants to be near (me, Fred, Dodger). She happened to bark during our introduction, so it got a few laughs.
We went up on the dance floor and introduced ourselves and talked a little about being a puppy raiser and what it all means. I pointed out what all Jordan had signedup for when she committed to doing this as her project and how she should be commended for her dedication. Then we did a little obedience. Very little because, she's 5 months old and I really had no clue what she was going to do! Sit, down, stay, forward, about face. She and Dodger were great. Then "Let's eat!"
The "Let's eat!" got big applause. I'm so entertaining. 8-)
This video shows HRH being good under the chair. Jordan and her friends were demonstrating her Irish dancing, which when they have their hard shoes on can be very loud. HRH is unconcerned with the noise. When the applause comes at the end, all she does is lift her head. Good girl!
