February Love Stories

 Happy February!  This month, with Valentines Day, I’m going to focus a few blogs on love. Not the romantic kind of love that our commercial culture focuses on but all the other ‘loves’ in life. Animals. Nature. Activities. Creativity. 

I want to remind myself, this February, of everything that makes my heart happy, my soul refreshed and my body healthy. 

My first love story is about my dog, Darby. 

A few years back, I applied to adopt a Career Change Guide Dog. I’ve loved and trained many dogs in my lifetime and my last sweet dog was my first Career Changer. She was not a pet, she was my pal. Wherever I went, so did she. When she died after a long, loving life I was bereft. 

Finally, after many months, I applied to Guide Dogs for the Blind to adopt another Career Changer. I filled out the application. I interviewed over the phone. And I waited. After 9 long months, I drove out to the Guide Dog campus to see if I was the right fit to be this Career Changer’s new person. 

It was love at first sight. 

He was beautiful. But it was his warm, sweet brown eyes and slightly lopsided ear that captured my heart. I couldn’t wait to take him home. I had a new bed. New bones. New collar and leash all ready for him. I wanted him to be as comfortable with me as he had been with his puppy raiser. 

I can’t believe it’s been 3 years already! Darby is so much fun. He is also silly. Sweet. Playful. Exuberant. And yes, a little mischievous. And I love all of it.

He loves to run and chase balls but he doesn’t always love to bring them back. He’s a big chewer, so his toys need to be extra tough. He loves his daily walk around the lake and park. 

When someone he loves is coming home, he knows before I do. I know now, when he gets up and goes to the door and back to me that someone is on their way. He greets everyone he meets with joyous, bouncy enthusiasm. Sometimes, a little too much, but that’s my Darby. 

Great thanks. 

I can’t begin to count all the ways I thank my sweet Darby’s Guide Dog Puppy Raiser. This woman took a young puppy into her home and heart. She lovingly cuddled, petted, fed and played with him. She taught him to sit and stay and lie down and walk on a leash. She worked with him to learn to be the eyes for someone else. 

And even though he didn’t make it through all the rigorous tests to become a guide dog, he learned from her, the most important lesson: love.  

I want her to know how much I love her sweet, black lab puppy. How everyday I wake up to his sweet face and puppy kisses. And how grateful I am for all her loving care and training that shaped Darby into the sweet, adorable combo of: Tigger from Pooh and Scooby doo. 

That is why I love my Darling Darby(doodle doo).

  

Grateful

Three years ago, I got the call I’d been waiting, hoping and wishing would come. Guide Dogs for the Blind had a career changer dog for me! And I couldn’t wait to meet him. 

It was love at first sight.

At 18 months old, Darby was charming and beautiful. His slightly lower ear, which GDB pointed out to me, made him even more adorable. He had his issues as all the career changers do. But nothing, I knew, that we couldn’t handle together. 

A mix of Scooby-Doo and Tigger too. 

Even at four years old, Darby is bouncy and trouncey and full of fun. He loves to chase balls but his favorite is to jump up to catch them. He walks through the park with bounce in his step, greeting dogs he knows with a playful bark. 

Greeting new friends or family at the door is one of his biggest thrills and challenges. He has a lovely, deep bark which always makes me smile (and feel very protected). Ok, he tends to rush new arrivals with an eagerness that can be overwhelming. But we have worked out a system to help him greet friends with a little less physical enthusiasm. (Hint: beef jerky treats work wonders)

Studio master. 

Whether I’m throwing on the wheel in the garage or slab building in the studio, Darby is there. He watches from his bed as I set up my work. Then once he’s confident I’m in the zone, he takes a nap. But he never zones out. 

Any movement toward the studio or side door and he’s instantly alert. He follows me outside while I clean up and I throw the ball for him. When I’m ready to head inside, he’s right there. And clay clean up happens with him at my feet. 

Watching dog. 

When I wake up, ok even before I wake up, Darby is awake. Laying on his big, round bed he watches and waits patiently for me to sit up. Once I do, he jumps up on the edge of the bed for morning kisses and hugs. After he gets love from me, he heads around the bed to say good morning to my husband. 

When one of the family is out, Darby always knows when they’re on the way home. And he sits and watches for the door to open. He’s learned to wait for us to go to him to say hello. And when I go upstairs or downstairs, so does he.  

Darby follows me everywhere. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

I’m so grateful to his Guide Dog Puppy Raiser, Guide Dogs for the Blind (and all they do) and their wonderful Career Changer program. 

But most of all, I’m grateful for my Darling Darby.  

A Day in the life of Darling Darby.

He knows when I am sleeping and he definitely knows when I awake.

As morning creeps across the horizon and he hears the furnace kick on, he gets off his bed, sits sweetly and patiently by the side of the bed until I reach out my hand. Then, he jumps up and down like Tigger, from Winnie the Pooh books, ears flapping adorably. When I pat the bed, up he jumps with sweet good morning kisses. 

He gets belly rubs after that, time to go out and, of course, breakfast. He gobbles down every kibble, licks the bowl and goes to his mat in the kitchen.

Counter surfer no more. 

When we adopted Darby from Guide Dogs, he had some issues. Dumpster Diving. Counter Surfing. Jumping and lease pulling. Mouthing. For the Guide Dog program, these were reasons he had to be ‘career’ changed. I got the lucky call to adopt him. 

Dumpster Diving was the first to be checked off the list. All my garbage cans are behind doors. Darby has no access and therefore, no more dumpster diving!

Counter Surfing is not a problem. One reason, no food is left out on counters within his reach. Two, when cooking happens and food is out, he stays on his mat in the kitchen. He gets small handfuls of his food to snack on while our food is being cooked. Problem solved. 

Walks in the park. 

I love to walk. Almost everyday, you’ll see my husband, Darby and I walking around the lake. I also take Darby on ‘second’ walks several days a week to keep us both in shape. 

Darby’s a very enthusiastic, energetic extroverted dog. He loves every person, child and dog we pass. He wants to run over, jump up and down and lick them all. I love him for it but not everyone shares his enthusiasm. 

So our walks provide ongoing teaching moments. Darby learns with every step, every dog, every person we meet. He knows how to heel in. Sit and wait. Pass without pulling. And he gets kibble bites when he gets it right, which is more times than not now. Problem (almost) solved. 

Greets and treats.

When the doorbell rings or the garage door goes up, Darby gets excited. Now I’ve taught him to bark on command because I want him to alert me. And he does it gladly. 

When I open the door, he rushes up to everyone with 70 pounds of exuberance. I find it funny. But for others, it’s just too much. So I’ve been working on a training routine for greeting. 

He goes to his place and waits. I go to the door. I open the door, let the person in and then go back to Darby. If he has waited, he gets a treat. Then I pull out another treat, lead him to the new person saying, ‘easy greet’. Well, let’s just say this is a work in progress and it’s much better now. 

You know what’s so much better now? I couldn’t imagine a day in my life without my darling Darby. 

Happy Birthday, Darby!

Last year at this time, I would never have believed this day would come. I was at a Guide Dog Puppy Raiser Fun Day smiling in wonder at all the beautiful dogs and their calm, loving trainers. I saw Golden Retrievers bouncing happily and lying down calmly while their people talked. There were black and yellow Labrador Retrievers trotting along watching all the action. 

On that day, I hoped and wished that one of those puppies in training would be mine. Six months later, my wish was granted and Darby came home with me.  

Hello puppy!

As I’ve written here before, I was smitten with Darby at once. His slightly lower left ear gives him an air of curiosity. His bouncy, ‘tigger’-like energy lifts me up everyday. Really I wish I could get a video of him popping up with all four feet in the air next to my bed each morning.

Since joining our family, Darby has learned to pass other dogs without pulling, leave food on the counter where it belongs, bark on command using a hand signal, follow me off leash to get the mail, get into the shower for baths, come when he’s called.

We’re still working on greeting people and other dogs in a calm, gentle manner and not tearing down the bamboo. But he is still just a two year old after all. 

But he’s also a 70 pound, two year old.  

So his sense of space and his coordination are still developing. But that’s one of the most adorable things about him. 

When he plays, he PLAYS. His whole body and mind and soul are one bubbling unit of fun. He can’t wait to get that ball. Greet that person. Sniff those strawberries(and eat them, of course). 

It took awhile for him to trust that the big blue circle on the lawn was his very own pool. He loves the hose. He doesn’t just want to drink from it, he wants to leap at it, get sprayed with it and run around the yard at full speed. 

And he’s a tease. Yes, just like every other 2 year old, he definitely knows what he’s not supposed to do. But he does it just to get my attention. And even though I have to correct inappropriate behavior, I love him all the more for it. I try not to show it, but I know he knows.

I love this sweet birthday boy. 

Today, he got a poached egg after his kibble. He got two new peanut butter bones which he loves to chew. He got his walk to the park and many more stops in new places for him to sniff. And he got his pool refilled and the hose to jump for and his favorite fetch toy bounced in and out of the water until he was soaked. 

Now he’s happily snoozing here beside me. You may think that he’s one lucky dog but I know the real truth: I’m one lucky human. 

Thankful: A Day of Small Moments

My granddaughter, Meyer is curled up, fast asleep tucked in by her baby blankets with her head on her special purple pillow. My sweet new Lab puppy is also curled up on his soft bed, asleep. This is truly a blissful moment. And a moment that can be so easily taken for granted because it’s just a normal, rainy, Monday. 

Thankful surprise. 

About a week and a half ago, I got the call Guide Dogs had a career changer for me! Tears of joy streamed down my face, as I listened to the director’s message. I jumped. I laughed. I almost couldn’t believe it. 

What is a Guide Dog Career Changer? Quite simply, a dog who, for many reasons, would not make a perfect dog to help and guide a blind person. With all the exceptional breeding, puppy raising and training, there are very few puppies now who don’t move on in the program. The ones who are career changed have a wide range of issues from physical to behavioral. They may not fit the Guide Dog program, but they are still wonderful.  

Meet Darby.

Delightful, sleek, strong and sweet, Darby is an 18 month old, black male Labrador Retriever. Born and raised in California, he came up to the Oregon campus a few weeks ago. He was career changed for his difficult ‘home’ habits. 

This means he ‘counter surfs’, ‘dumpster dives’, plays keep away and is very vocal. Now, I’ve dealt with all of these issues with other dogs. But right now, I want to get to know him. 

I now know he loves to walk in the park, jump for balls and eat strawberries. He does not like rain, getting his feet wet or dried off. Geese, ducks, kids and other dogs all distract him. He’s very energetic and needs to be reminded to take it easy going up or down stairs, across the floor or out the door. And he whines, cries, and yowls when he is in his kennel, which  just makes me laugh. 

Progress Already. 

He already knows his new name. When I call him, he comes. When I go around the corner without letting him know, he sees me and follows. Now, instead of pulling, he waits. He walks easily up, down and around. He is learning to ‘settle’ on his blanket or bed.

He does not bark. He is lying here on his bed, listening to new noises: cars and trucks on the street, dogs barking, the furnace and yet, he is quiet. His head goes up with each sound, he looks to me, I tell him it’s ok. He puts his head back down without a sound and does not disturb my sleeping granddaughter’s nap. 

It’s 3:30 now. Today’s rain continues and the dull, cloudy light is fading. But to me, it’s been a beautiful day. Why be thankful for a quiet, rainy Monday?

Because life is all about the small moments filled with giggles, yawns and peace. Thankfully. 

Wanted: Four-Footed Best Friend

I love dogs. And happily, most of my life has been filled with fluffy tail wagers, spotted barkers, wonderful walkers and cheerful chewers. Since my sweet Jilly died suddenly, I’ve felt loss and grief, as you can read in my other dog blogs, but there’s more to it. 

I feel lost without a four-footed best friend. Yes, I am an animal person. I’ve had many cats, too. And once a week, my son’s dog comes along on Meyer Monday’s and I get to take her for a walk, feed and play with her. But as a true ‘dog’ person, I miss my pack. 

I grew up with dogs.

The first dog I remember was a cute Beagle. I was very small but I remember him sitting beside me. Our next dog, a black, Standard Poodle, was adorable. True to his poodle roots, he was happy, energetic, fun and loyal to us all. If you’ve never been around a standard poodle, you’re in for a treat. Smart and entertaining, they are irrepressible and need kind, firm training. But I call them the ‘tigger’ of dogs for a reason. 

My two Golden Retrievers were both sweet, loving and wonderful family dogs. One was definitely calmer and easier to train. She loved to play frisbee, swim in her very own wading pool and cuddle with the cats. The other, a field dog golden, was energetic and smart with a mind of her own. She loved to chase birds, swim in the ocean or any available body of water, play ball and go for long walks. 

Jilly was, of course, wonderful, too. But she was also special because she came to us from Guide Dogs as a career changer. Smart and energetic, Jilly had a few training quirks but we worked together forming a strong bond of love. She loved to chase squirrels, eat tomatoes and strawberries out of the garden. She especially loved to walk. And so we walked to the park almost everyday.

Along the way, I’ve taken dog training classes, helped with rescue dogs, and done lots of dog sitting. And although, I’m really glad to see my son’s dog, Apple, every week, I know someone is missing from my life.   

Where, oh where, is my new doggy?

I didn’t think finding my new dog would be so hard or take so long. I’ve searched and searched online but I haven’t seen my new friend, yet. 

I know many rescue groups are bringing in dogs from Asian countries, but I really want to help a dog from right here. I have a granddaughter, so I need to be careful of certain mixed breeds. But surely, there’s a 12-18 month old Golden or Lab out there who needs a good home?

Jilly was so special to me, the first place I looked was where I found her: Guide Dogs. I’ve applied for another Guide Dog career changer, but because I’m just me, and not part of a therapy association, I’m afraid, I’m low on their list now. But maybe, just maybe I’ll be chosen again. I sure hope so. 

What I do know is this: I am a dog person looking for a four-footed best friend. 

Jilly’s Strawberry Field. Forever.

Jilly loved sniffing the trees at the park. Catching her big red ball but not bringing it back to you, well, until she was ready. Eating her poached egg on Thursdays and waffles on Sundays. Sticking her head under the rosemary bush. And sneaking bites of strawberries when I wasn’t looking (or so she thought). 

Jilly spent many happy days outside. Wandering around the backyard. Patrolling the fence line checking for squirrels. Finding ‘kitty candy’ in the flower beds. But one of her favorite pursuits was raiding the garden for tomatoes, blueberries and, of course, strawberries. 

I loved that she loved so many things. 

And after she died two months ago, I wasn’t sure what I should or could or would do with her ashes. Keeping them in a tin for a while was ok, but it didn’t seem right to keep the ashes in that tin forever.  When we were planting our yearly garden of lettuces, tomatoes, zucchini, cucumbers  and peppers, I knew what I wanted to do. 

A garden of strawberries for Jilly.

There was one flower bed in the yard that was Jilly’s favorite. In the middle was a large, wobbly  and very overgrown rosemary bush. Ok, it became a tree but that’s because I didn’t know how to trim it properly. It got so lopsided, that we had to prop it up with rope, over time, it grew in a very twisted shape.

My idea was to pull out all the plants, keep the twisted rosemary tree and plant the strawberries around it. Unfortunately, when the excavation began, we found out the rosemary tree had cracked roots and had to be removed. I was sad because Jilly loved that tree. 

Turns out, rosemary plants are not easy to find this time of year. There were strawberries everywhere, but no rosemary plants. I decided to check one more place and I found the very last rosemary bush they had.

It was meant to be. 

After we prepped the ground, I brought out Jilly’s tin. Michael dug the hole for the new rosemary bush and I gently filled it with some of Jilly’s ashes. We planted the small, fragrant rosemary gently into the middle of the garden. 

Around the bush, we scattered the remains of Jilly’s ashes. Planted rows and rows of strawberry plants and covered them with mounds of fresh, moist soil. 

As I planted each and every plant, I saw Jilly’s round black nose searching for ripe berries. I remembered her tail wagging when she found them. I sniffed as tears of love and loss fell in and among the new berries. 

But mostly, I remembered how much she loved this spot. And how it will now and always be her own little strawberry field. Forever.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                

Goodbye Studio Buddy, Zen Master and Friend.

It was a shock. Total and complete shock. Everything had been going just fine and then, we woke up Friday morning, but my sweet, silly Jilly did not. 

The day before was just a normal everyday day. We got up. She went out, ate her breakfast and begged for my toast (and got it, of course). We went for a lovely walk around the lake in the sunshine. We came home, she got her vitamin, her treats, and slept while I ran errands. She went out, got more treats, snoozed while I worked in the studio. Oh, she grumbled a little because I was late doing her 3:00 out and treat. But that’s normal for Jilly because she liked to keep me on schedule (hers not mine). She had dinner and settled on her bed while I went to yoga. It was warm in our room for her and she woke us up to go out, then settled on her bed downstairs where it was cooler. 

She died in her sleep sometime during the night. Peaceful. On her favorite bed with her chewy bone beside her. I just wish, I’d been there too. But I didn’t know. Maybe she wanted it that way. 

Jilly beat the odds. 

If you’ve read my blog before, you’ll know quite a bit about my life with Jilly. If not, here’s a little  bit about her and there’s more on the sidebar. 

She was a Guide Dog Career Changer. Meaning, she did not fit their mold. I’m not surprised at all because Jilly never fit anyone’s mold. She was stubborn and smart. She had a mind of her own and got what she wanted most of the time. She had training issues and it took quite a while for Jilly and I to get past her problems and find our way to working together with trust and love.  But we did. And she was also beautiful, sweet, loving, friendly, patient and fun-loving. 

Three years ago, vets gave Jilly 3 months to live. The diagnosis was cancer and the best treatment was major surgery and chemo. We opted not to put her through an ordeal of suffering for 3 extra months. Jilly proved us right by living happy and healthy for 3 more years.  

Jilly taught me to be.  

Jilly was patient and kind but she also demanded her needs be met. I need to learn that, too. 

Especially as a female in our society, too often needs go by the wayside to accommodate others. Jilly taught me that kindness and patience doesn’t mean forgetting your own needs.  

We walked everyday. As she stopped to sniff around, I also stopped and took the time to look around my world in that moment. See the otters diving. Watch the heron fly. Notice the day the bare limbs showed the smallest of buds. Jilly taught me that exercise can be relaxing and uplifting for body, mind and soul. 

Jilly was always there in good times and bad. She took it all in with quiet acceptance. Her presence kept me in the present whether I was at the wheel throwing, making dinner, or on the computer. No matter what kind of day I had, she was there to hear about it and sit by my side.  

Jilly was my friend. 

I know she wouldn’t want to see me so sad. I know just what she’d do about it, too. She’d amble over and lie down on my feet. If I needed a hug, she was always there day or night. If I got up, she’d follow.

I still can’t believe it. I still look up or over expecting to see her on her bed. I still feel her behind me as I walk up the stairs. But now, my wonderful dog and friend moves on without me. And I can’t follow.