Dewey Speaks: I Attended an AC Conference!

Disclaimer: This blog is to be used as Entertainment Purposes ONLY. This is not a critique or evaluation of my training, my raisers or my pup sitters. With that said – I hope you enjoy. 

Thursday night my Auntie Mel came to my house and loaded me in her car. I was excited, as you may remember, last time we had some pretty fun adventures. My raisers kept talking about their trip to New York City, but I was more interested in seeing Ambassador Duke. He has fun toys. 

Friday morning, Auntie Mel worked from home. Early afternoon I was loading into the car again, only to find myself (and Auntie Mel, - duh – I can’t DRIVE) at a hotel in downtown St. Petersburg. The valet parking dude was all wound up tight, so I tried to tell him the DEWERS way of doing things “Relax Dude, everytings gonna be all-right”. I don’t think he understood Dog Talk. 

Dewey lying on the floor looking sleepy.

Into the lobby we go. There are pups in coat everywhere! WOOF. Let me just say there was this little golden retriever named ZIVA (like from the TV show NCIS) and boy… was she a hit. I must say I might have given her my number…. If I had a number. (Note to self: Get a number). One dog got so excited his tail knocked over the entire chess set that was on a table. It was NOT me. Really….. (I will NOT throw my buds under the table and mention them by name. That’s just dog code.) 

Auntie Mel then went to do a blind fold dog weight evaluation on three dogs the trainers had brought. On the way there, I saw my sister and my brother. How fun! Auntie Mel apparently did really well, as she won a prize. Who doesn’t love prizes? 

I finally overheard someone say we were at the AC conference, which was funny, cuz the room was really COLD. I am not sure if Auntie Mel does air conditioning work, or why all the dogs would be there. She doesn’t really tell me what we are doing or why. Why was she there anyways? But I am such a free spirit I didn’t really stress about it. My friend River and Andros sat near us. But I tried not to listen to what River said. Her ideas can be kinda crazy. The adults were doing a lot of laughing at this table. I later found out AC stands for Area Coordinator, not air conditioner. 

The AC vent (this time I mean air conditioner) and compressor for the conference room were next to our table. Turns out it must have had a leak of some sort, so randomly, it sounded like water was running. This made the raisers all do a double take and look under the table. I think the raisers thought one of us dogs were going busy (pee – in layman’s terms). I tried to not be offended. I would never do that inside!! 

Dewey asleep under the table.

Dinner was eaten by humans and pups. The event ended and we went to fetch our car. The same crabby man was not there, so that was good. 

I must have had a bad dream that night. Mel says I was sleeping peacefully and then all of a sudden I stood up straight in my kennel and just looked at her. I don’t remember what it was. And no, I didn’t write it down. I can’t hold a pencil. I was told to lay back down, so I did, and that was the end of that. Weird. 

Saturday we spent the day down at Southeastern Guide Dog campus. This is where I have heard my big brother Coach is. I didn’t get to see him, but I hear he is doing well. I will come here one day for my training. Maybe I can meet him. 

During the day we did obedience with Trainer Jen. She taught the raisers some “relaxation techniques” for their dogs. Seriously? I laughed. Did she not hear of me? I am Baby Dewey Dew Drop. I have no stress. Relaxation is my middle name. Auntie Mel and I ROCKED this drill. Sweet. A+ for us. WOOT. 

Mel sitting with Dewey in her lap.

Then we went inside and the raisers did something. I don’t remember what. I was napping. I remember getting a lot of treats from Blue’s mom. She was trying to tell Blue to be more like me. I don’t think he was ready for a nap. But I was, so I snoozed. 

Later Auntie Mel handed me off to some person I didn’t know so she could go do a Blind Fold Immersion. The trainers put a blind fold over her eyes and then she got to experience firsthand what the visually impaired students do when they come to the school. She had to find her dorm room, figure out which hallway she was in, navigate inside her room, go out of the building, find the porch, the outside area for dogs, and back in through another door. She did that first with the trainer and then the next time she had a guide dog to help her. WOW! That will be ME someday. How cool is my job gonna be? 

Trainer Jen trying to get Dewey to
load in to the crates in the van.

The day was jam packed with lectures, tours (new vet center ROCKS) and get this --- I got to load in the vans that the real guide dog trainees use. Ok, so the idea was not my favorite at first, but after you hear Trainer Jen’s squeaky puppy voice, you pretty much just do what she wants so she will stop (Sorry Jen – love ya). There might have been a treat involved. 

The conference ended, we returned home, I greeted Duke, ate dinner and crashed. As typical, Sunday is RELAX day at Auntie Mel’s. I was hoping that would be the case. I am Pooped. 

Monday off to the office….. more napping. Sweet. Life is good. 

PS. Love you mom and dad. Where is New York anyways? 

I Don't Have a Brain Tumor, but I'm Still an Idiot

Sometimes we do things that we shouldn't do: We procrastinate. We do other, more fun things.  We listen to the voice in our head that says, "Sure, that sounds like an excellent idea.  Why don't you do that!"

It usually isn't an excellent idea.  My mom tells this story about me, that when I was small, I shoved a whole almond up my nose and it got stuck.  

I think she said I was a toddler.  I'm pretty sure the story went something like, "You were in your high chair and then I turn around and you had shoved an almond," and this is where my Mom gets all loud and gesticulates, "AN ENTIRE ALMOND! ALL THE WAY UP YOUR LITTLE NOSE!"  

"I was so panicked.  I couldn't get it out of your nose.  It was really up there.  And there you were staring at me.  With an almond up your little nose." At this point, everyone in the room is usually staring at me, imagining me with the almond up my nose, my little nose.

"So I call the pediatrican, Dr.Crawford (I think) and I have to tell him everything!" I have to say, that Mom is getting a little accusatory at this point, even though more than 40 years have gone by. "Then I turn around and you are crying and the little almond is now hanging out of your nose on a tiny little thread of snot."

She smiles.  My snot is cute.  I've snotted the almond out of my little nose.  I'm so smart. Snot smart.

Why have I told you this story? Oh, right, because, sometimes, we just do things, and we think that this is an excellent idea.  And evidently, I have been having excellent ideas since I was a toddler.  

Dewey with Princess Leia ears.

My co-workers thought it was an excellent idea to make Dewey look like Princess Leia, since his ears were so long. I think it kind of worked.  He even has a sort of come hither look about him.

Dewey with bunny ears.

Recently, I lost my sense of smell.  Actually, it has gone away and has been missing for several months.  I only discovered it was gone when I took Dewey to school and Jan and Christina said that he smelled like pee.

"What!  He does not.  I can't smell anything." They stared at me.  Balefully.

"He smells like urine." They would not budge.

I went into my office and sprayed him with the French dog perfume that our French teacher had given me.  This seemed like an excellent idea.  

"Now he smells like urine and perfume." They said wrinkling their noses.  Great.  I eyed him.  He was happy. And smelly.  I knew how this had happened.  He was, at this time, small enough to walk under Jam and Jam had no qualms about continuing to pee while Dewey walked under him.  Wonderful.  A pee pee dog.

I walked him back into my office and took out the wet wipes. I wiped him down thoroughly. Then I got out the lavender oil.  I rubbed a little on him and sniffed.  Nothing. Sigh.  I brought him back in.

"MMMMMM.  He smells great." Big smiles.

Here I am kissing a non-stinky Dewey on the top of the head.

At this point, I knew I had better see a doctor about my nose, which was probably smarting from that almond damage from oh so many years ago. So I went to an ENT specialist, who just happened to be a Berkeley parent as well. He was very nice.  He didn't see any tumors, but wanted to do a CT scan to be sure because that was one of the reasons why you lose your sense of smell.

Now, hearing the words tumors, CT scan, and just to be sure, are not the most confidence building words I can ever imagine, so it was a pretty stressful time for me.  I couldn't smell, I thought I might have a brain tumor and I didn't really want to broadcast it to everyone.

During the wait to get the results, we went for a weekend up to New Orleans to celebrate my Dad's birthday.  I thought this was going to be great because New Orleans is a wonderful place, and my mom and dad are lots of fun.  Plus, this time my brother would be joining us.  So we would get to have a real family weekend.

We ate a lot of food, drank a lot of coffee with chicory, and shopped incessantly.  I would say it was a very good weekend.  Until Saturday evening, the night before our flight out Sunday morning.  That's when I had another excellent idea.

Our hotel, the Royal Sonesta, fronts Bourbon Street, which you may or may not know is quite noisy on a normal night.  Well, at 2:30 am on that particular night, it so happened that a band was playing, a cat fight broke out and someone was randomly screaming.  ALL AT ONCE. RIGHT UNDER OUR WINDOW.

I woke up.  It was 2:30 am.  I was thinking that I had to leave in the morning and I did NOT want to be up for the next 3 hours listening to this madness.  I tried the pillow over the head.  NO. Closing my eyes really tight didn't help either.

Then I had my EXCELLENT IDEA.

I would make ear plugs out of toilet paper! So, I got out of bed and went to the bathroom and made two ear plugs.  The first one went in my left ear, no problem.  The second one, went in and ....

DISAPPEARED.

HOLY SHIT.

Where did my ear plug go?  I stuck my finger in my ear.  There was no ear plug! I tried a little harder.  Ouch.

I sat on the bed.  Holy crap.  I've lost my ear plug. How am I going to explain that? Suddenly the noise outside doesn't seem so loud.  Is this going to show up on the CT Scan?  Am I going to have to explain, "Oh, I make my own ear plugs all the time and lose them.  That's probably why I have so many brain tumors: they are just lost ear plugs!"

Crap!  And the ENT is a Berkeley parent! Perfect. Now he'll know that I'm an idiot who makes her own ear plugs and shoves them in her ears like a two year old.  Wait.  I bet ENTs have a big list that they keep of stupid things people put in their ears and I bet HOMEMADE EARPLUGS don't even make the list!

OMG.  I have to get this out of my ear!

I tried to go back to sleep.  What was I going to do?

Finally, I had another excellent idea: toilet paper dissolves! I would take a shower and run water in my ear!

So that's what I did.  I got up in the morning and took a shower and ran water in my ear. Nothing.  Nothing happened.

So I waited for three weeks, until my doctor's appointment to get my ear taken care of.  It went something like this:

Nurse: So, you are here to see the results of your CT Scan?

Me: Yes.  And I think I might have something in my right ear.
(haha, yeah, right! I do have something! A homemade earplug!)

Nurse: Oh.  I'll let him know.

Me: (to myself) Great.  Now I don't have to explain anything! Woot!

Later.

Doctor: So, you think you have something in your ear?

Oh, crap.

Thank God for House Sitters

Dewey has been taken care of.  It's really not as ominous as it sounds.  See, when we go away, Dewey has to go to another puppy raiser, so that he can continue his education while we are away.  Jam and Willow, however, just need someone to love them.

Jam may need a bit more love than most.

Actually, Jam is nuts, but we love him.  We got him a prescription for doggie xanax to deal with his separation anxiety, but it hasn't seemed to touch him.  His little anxiety engine runs so fast that the xanax calming ions can't keep up and the last time we tried it, Jam was waiting for us at the window.  Panting and looking anxious.

Sigh.

So getting someone we trust to watch over our nutball is key and we have found the perfect person.  He's another puppy raiser and he'll be able to stay at the house and watch over both the dogs.

Of course, that leaves me with a bit of anxiety about the house.  (I'm thinking anxiety runs rampant in this house!) Is it clean enough? Do we have enough food? Are the instructions on how to use the three (count them, 3!!) remotes clear enough? Then I open the fridge door.

OMG.  I would never house sit for myself.  Look at my fridge.  It's horrible.  Who am I? Do I eat out of this fridge?

I shut the door.

I open it.  Gross.

Do I need to clean the fridge?  It was only two weeks ago that I went through every single condiment we had and threw out TONS of condiments (one was from (I swear I am telling the truth) 2009)! Who checks the dates on condiments?  They last forever! Like twinkies!  Condiments are just a conglomeration of chemicals and a red or yellow liquid. Right?

I open the fridge door.  I shut it.

I remember, years ago, we went to a friend of a friend's house and I opened her fridge to help put something away.  I felt so inadequate, standing there staring into the gleaming cleanness of her fridge.  It was so white and bright and clean.  I knew, instinctively, that my fridge was not like this fridge.  I knew that I was not like this person.  Everything matched.  It all lined up.  It was a little fridge heaven.  I think of that fridge now.  And that obviously sick, depraved mind that cleaned the fridge every day and kept it sparkling like the Holy Grail. ;-)

So, now, I have a toothpick and I am scraping in my fridge in the corners.

EVERYTHING HAS A LID! HOW CAN IT LEAK? Is Fred getting up at night and eating?  Is he having a party in the fridge?  Maybe Jam is.  Maybe Jam is learning to open the fridge and undoing the lids.  I wouldn't put it past him.  And Willow just watches.  She sits in the kitchen and watches him do it.

How do crumbs get in here?  I'm not actually eating or making the sandwich IN THE FRIDGE. Shouldn't the crumbs be ON THE COUNTER?

My fridge is sparkly clean now. You can come over and open it and see.  I mean, it isn't like that friend of a friend's fridge.  I'm not obsessive.  There might be a crumb.  Or two.  Crap.  I better go back and check on things.

Dewey and Jam on the porch.

And Jam, I'm watching you, buddy!

How to Stop a Pooping Dog

Do you know how to stop a dog from pooping? 

It's a question to ponder.  It's one that every puppy raiser should know how to do.  It's key.  You might never know when it would come in handy.

But first you have to know how we got to the poop-cident.  It all started with the Homecoming film ( an NB Production).

Nathan and Kendall explaining the scenes we will be filming.

We started out filming at school.  Mind you, I can't tell you what the film is about, because the theme is a secret and I would have to kill you all! 8-)  It can't be revealed until the film is finished and released.

Dallas, Allie and Sam laughing.  It's a funny script.

The script had 7 or 8 scenes.  A complete cast list. It was very detailed.  I was very impressed with it.

Amol laughs at one of his scenes.

 Once the school filming ended, we all loaded into the van and headed off to International Mall for more filming.  I think I may have jinxed things by telling Austi the story of Melisa and how Erik had a poop-cident in Nordstrom's, where we were filming, which ended with a small boy pointing and yelling, "MOM! POO!"

Dewey was great in the mall. No problem with the elevator or the railings.

 Yes, so confident was I that I was telling stories about other raisers and THEIR poo stories.  Because of course, there was no reason that I would have a poop-cident.  Not me. Not Dewey.  He's so calm.

So we filmed in Nordstrom's.  Then we went to Starbucks and filmed.  I waited  upstairs so we wouldn't be in the shot.  We had lots of visitors and I handed out several Dewey cards.  That was fun.  Then we decided it was time to get some lunch and walk to the food court.  So, we go up the stairs and start down the long hallway to the food court.  I'm in the lead with Nathan, who is telling me about the filming and how it is going.  He is mid sentence, when Dewey jerks off to the left in a mad attempt to get to some imaginary grass, I pull him back.  Nathan continues to talk. Dewey, finding only marble tile, decides he can't wait and hunches up, preparing to let loose his bowels on International Mall's pristine white marble tiles.

I saw the hunch.

How do you stop a pooping dog?

Well, you pick up a pooping dog.  Pick them up quickly.

I did.  I whipped around and said in a slightly panicked voice: "Take my purse! Take my purse!" Because it was still on my arm and I now have a pooping dog in my arms.

Sam (short for Samantha) grabs my purse. Nathan has no clue what is going on.  The kids are all startled and staring.

"Follow me!" I start running through the mall to the outside doors with my 35 pound dog in my arms.  Every person coming towards me had big eyes and a huge question on their face:

"Is that dog blind?"

"Why are you carrying him"

"What's going on?"

But I kept running for the doors.  We made it outside and I put Dewey down.  He no longer felt the need to poo.  Nathan and Sam came panting up behind us.

"Is he ok?" Nathan asked? I said he needed to poo.  Nathan started to laugh.  "I thought he was having a seizure!"

Sam looked at him.  "Is he going to poo now?"

It didn't look like it.  "You guys go back in and get lunch.  I'll stay out here until he poops."

He did.  Once we found some grass.

Amol striking a pose.

 Below is a photo of film committee and me and Dewey.

Homecoming Film Committee.

Dewey and the Professors

Dewey has made it his mission to be an ambassador around school and to meet all the faculty and staff that he can.  He calls it public relations; I call it schmoozing.  

His first effort wasn't so good.  Here he gets a dress code warning from Dean Lindsey.

Dewey tried to sweet talk his way out of a dress code violation with Dean Lindsey, but she is made of sterner stuff.  8-) Actually, she's a softie and was a good sport for the camera! Thanks Dean Lindsey!

Dean Williams is the 9th and 10th grade Dean.

Dean Williams also had to meet Dewey.  After all, Dewey is technically a 9th/10th grader his first semester.

Mrs. Hoversten takes a moment with Dewey.

College Counseling also is a very dog friendly place.   Mrs. Hoversten loves labs and was very impressed with Dewey's calm nature.

Mrs. Czabafy and Mrs. Connolly get some puppy time.
Mrs. Czabafy gets a kiss from Dewey.

Dewey always visits everyone in College Counseling.  He loves Mrs. Czabafy, Mrs. Connolly and the Academic Counselors as well.

Mrs. Woods comes to visit Dewey sometimes.

Sometimes though a person might be having a tough day or just need a pick me up.  That's when it's time to wander on down to my office and see if Dewey's in his man cave.  He can usually be persuaded  to come out and be loved. Perhaps he is actually Dean Martin reincarnated? He's very smooth.

He got the lovely ladies in admissions to make him the admissions director for a day.  Well, actually, just for 5 minutes.  But it really went to his head.  He came home and tried to tell Jam he was not accepted and Willow she was accepted.  I had to bust up the fight.

Mr. Ide, our math department chair, and Dewey.

 Mr. Ide stopped by to say hello and Dewey was thrilled.  He and Mr. Ide got along really well.

Dewey and Ms. Fleming, his favorite piano teacher.

Dewey met Ms. Fleming when she held him up at the lower division convocation so that all the lower division children could see him.  Then he whined a little bit and she let him down.  He rested his head on her feet and fell asleep, so she gave him her heart.

Mrs. Gonzalez and Dewey

 I thought that perhaps Dewey would be able to help Mrs. Gonzalez with the attendance, but he ended up being really intimidated by the computers and the system.  He just wanted to sit in her lap.  She's very sweet.

Latin teacher Ms. Frank and Dewey commune about life.

But I think he most enjoyed the conversation he had about Latin and its current usefulness in our life with Ms. Frank.  His tail never stopped wagging.

Coach's First Report Card

Fred with Coach in front of Coach's sign at IFT.

Coach's first report card came back yesterday.  While Coach has been a good boy at his commands, his behavior in the kennel needs some work.  It seems that there is a roommate problem.  We are not sure, but there seems to be some problem with food.  Perhaps the roommate is throwing food around and Coach is getting a little irritated and making his irritation known?

"Hey, dude, this is my side of the kennel.  Keep your dang treats over there.  Just for that, I'm going to eat this treat!"

Or maybe it went like this

"Dude," (I don't know why Coach calls all his roommates Dude, but he does) "Look, if you aren't going to eat fast enough, then I'm going to help you out and finish your bowl.  Shove over slow poke."

Now, admittedly, in the first scenario, Coach is a bit of a neatnik, obnoxious type and I would be mad at him too.  And he doesn't really come off better in the second scenario either.  Kind of a bully at worst and a little piggy at best.  But they said they have a new roommate that he seems to like.  And frankly,  who hasn't gone through college and had a bad spell with roommates?

Sometimes, you just get a bad roommate.  Sometimes, you just need to change to a new roommate.  Someone who can be your friend.

They also said that Coach is "very sweet" and "loves to work".  We hope that means that once his roommate situation calms down, he can settle in and really wow them with his command knowledge.  

Dewey, Zen Master

By Fred
Here's a photo of Cheryl working with Dewey and Jam on food distractions. She and the dogs are on the floor, and between them are a few pieces of kibble. The dogs are in a down-stay, sitting patiently, but Dewey (the puppy) has achieved a transcendent state of patience--he's a natural Zen master when it comes to self control, muscles completely relaxed. Maybe it will rub off on Jam.


And here's a close-up picture of Jam in my office, sitting still (barely) and staring up at a piece of kibble, radiating a sort of charisma that he turns on to get his way--I've never seen anything quite like it. While Dewey is serene, Jam is volatile.


I told Willow she doesn't have to sit for pictures anymore if she doesn't want to. Here she is playing puzzle games with the boys. No contest, she is the best.