The People in Line Behind Me

When you raise a puppy and you're out in public, you try your best to project a good image. You vigilantly keep Puppy from sniffing the lower shelves at the grocery, from blocking a busy doorway at a store, from tugging towards an interesting person passing by, from squirming as you stand in line. But of course, nobody (me or Puppy) is perfect. Sometimes it can feel like you and Pup are against the world, that the eyes watching your movements may be a little harsh and unduly critical. That is until you get a pleasant surprise.

Yesterday Piper and I had a package to mail at the Danville post office. Normally we go to our tiny p.o. in Chatham, but today, running errands in "the big city", we stop at their large main post office. We take our place in line, and Piper plops down and takes five. After an already busy morning doing his best effort at Being Good with the therapy dog group at an assisted living home, he is rather tuckered out. A middle-aged couple drops into line behind us. Soon we are chatting about service dogs and all the jobs they do, how far along Piper is in his training and the usual things a PR discusses to interested, friendly people. It does make the time go by. As we talk the line lengthens and stretches out behind us. Every so often, the line moves and Piper obligingly rises up, moves forward by my side, and plops down again.

Piper last weekend at "Dog Days", a sale at a local greenhouse business. Every year I set up a table and tell people about service/guide/therapy dogs. People bring their pets. It is much fun and a great exposure for Piper.

Finally our turn. The clerk behind the counter calls us, and we walk over to the high counter. "Is that a dog you have there with you?" she asks, just a little too sharply I think. As she leans forward she reminds me of a disapproving judge at his bench in court. "Well, yes, he's a service dog in training," I answer. Her eyes narrow. "Do you have a disability?" "No, I don't, he's in training to be a service dog. I am training him." "Well, if you don't have a disability, then he can't be in here. I will go ahead and wait on you this time, but I don't ever want to see you bring a dog in here again."

Oh, groan. It's as if you can see the shades roll down and the shutters slam shut on her face. There is no reasoning with a person like this. Still I make one last feeble attempt. "How can a service dog do his job if he isn't allowed to train in facilities like this?" I ask. But she isn't considering anything. If I had more time, I would ask to speak to her supervisor, but it has already been a long morning, I have more errands to run with Piper and am in no mood for a fight. Since I normally don't come here anyway, why even bother? I pay the postage on the package and turn to leave.

As I start to walk away, I pass the line of people. The line I had so recently stood in. I see their eyes resting on me and my service pup who walks calmly by my side. I head outside, walk Piper along the edges of the parking lot, then give him some water A lady appears and she tells me how sorry she is I got treated that way inside. I guess she heard the whole thing. She is upset and ready to go back in, and wait in line to speak to the supervisor. We talk a little, say good-bye and I thank her for being supportive.

Later that afternoon I get a call. It's the same lady from outside the p.o. She did indeed go back in the building, waited in line and talked to the supervisor. The supervisor said - get this - SEVERAL other people had complained about the way Piper and I were treated! Wow, I thought, it was the people in the line behind me. And they cared enough to stand up for me, Piper and assistance dogs everywhere, when I was too busy and tired to try. How awesome is that?

It makes me take a fresh look at the public:  the anonymous people in line, in the crowd, the ones we think don't notice us. Or maybe we think they watch with a critical eye as we work our service pups with faltering steps up the ladder towards their important future role. Yet in fact this anonymous public often secretly and silently watches with approval, and is surprisingly ready to spring to our defense when the going for us gets tough. You guys at the post office Tuesday morning, I don't know you and I'll probably never see you again, but I just have to say "Thanks" to the people in line behind me.

Summer Magic and Therapy Dogs

As a therapy dog, Wrangell enjoys being surrounded by admiring fans.

It is early June, the beginning of summer. Yellow Lab Wrangell, sporting an orange vest with a Therapy Dogs Inc. patch, walks into one of the rooms at the day facility for the intellectually disabled in Danville, VA. Therapy dog, Prissy, a perky little black Pomeranian smartly dressed in the latest dog fashion and her handler, Betty, join Wrangell and I making the rounds between the tables. Several people sit at tables doing puzzles, drawing and playing games, but the activity stops abruptly as soon as we enter. Most of the people are just a little nervous and prefer to watch the dogs. A few braver ones tentatively touch, talking low, cradling the dogs' heads in their hands, fingering soft velvet ears and coarser fur across their backs.

In one of the game rooms occupied by residents,

far back in the corner slumped behind a large round table, sits a solitary man about thirty years of age. Although the man does not seem to notice the visiting dogs, as I slowly approach with Wrangell, he grasps his lunch bag and becomes agitated. One of the staff turns to him. "Joel, would you like to pet the dog?" Holding onto his lunch sack for dear life, Joel makes an unhappy sound. His tense body signals loud and clear - No, absolutely not. Wrangell and I retreat, and the staff lady gives us a faint smile and shrug. It's OK. Never push a dog on anyone, you do not know what sort of experience they may have had. Better to step back and give things time.

In the photo at right, Wrangell tries out a noise machine at the facility. He listens to the different noises made when he steps on the colored blocks. Fun!


As the summer progresses and our two therapy dogs continue their weekly visits to the facility, we start greeting people by their first names and making genuine friends. Relationships between the residents, staff and the dogs bud and blossom. The rooms fill with smiles and laughter. Over time the dogs learn which ones like to gently rough them up, which like to lightly caress them and with which they need to be ever so still as a mouse. Joel watches from his solitary corner, sheltered behind his big round table. Never have I seen him walk or talk, yet I notice how his head and eyes follow the dogs as they move from person to person. Often he clutches his lunch bag, but not so tightly as before.

Early August and a chorus of greetings, like old friends, meets us as we walk the halls and enter the rooms. As Wrangell and I slowly approach Joel, I can tell this time is different. For once his face is open, inviting. We move closer. Leaning toward the big Lab just a little, Joel raises his hand and lightly touches Wrangell on his head. A pat! He quickly pulls the hand away, flashes a grin, then turns as the staff and I in amazed voices congratulate him for what he has just done. Why am I so surprised to see Joel touch the Lab's head? Haven't I seen before the magic therapy dogs work on people over time?

However the next week things have changed again. When Wrangell and I approach I can tell Joel is not as receptive. Yet he does slide over one chair, coming out of his corner, and crouches over a pegboard puzzle, working the pieces. I imagine it is his way of saying, "I am happy you are here." The next week, the last of August, is our final visit to the facility. Somehow it feels like the final act of a play. We promise our summer friends we will come back over the holidays. Understanding, they nod. Finally we enter Joel's usual room, and make our way to the back corner. Then Joel does a curious thing. Instead of extending his hand, he slowly, laboriously, leans down to Wrangell and offers his face. Wrangell gently licks his cheek. Again Joel offers his face, again the dog licks his cheek. With an exhaled breath we all laugh and exclaim, "Hey, Joel, he kissed you!" With a triumphant grin, Joel rears his upper body, leaning way back. His personal victory dance. Although he cannot talk, it is plain what he is feeling inside. It is magic to behold - the mysterious magic that dogs weave as they touch the hearts of people like Joel - and those nearby who get to witness and celebrate.

Note:  Thank-you to Danville-Pittsylvania County Community Services for giving me permission to post this story and the photos.

Therapy dogs Wrangell and Prissy take a break outside the Danville facility. We joke that the two dogs have all the bases covered. Wrangell is large, yellow, short-haired and male. Prissy is small, dark, long-haired and female!

Brad and Wrangell become friends.

Administrative staff enjoy the therapy dogs as much as the day-goers.

You is Smart...You is Nice...You is Important

The movie "The Help" came out in 2011, based on a book by the same name by Kathryn Stockett. I enjoyed both the movie and the book immensely. It takes place in the Jim Crow South of Jackson, Mississippi in the early 1960's, and is one of those stories that has many strong, wonderful characters in it - most virtuous and a few wicked. The main character is a black maid, Aibileen, who works for a family struggling to keep up with the Southern aristocratic "Joneses".

To me one of the marks of a good story are lines said worth remembering, adopting and repeating. Although it has nothing to do with dogs, there is one line in the movie I have held on to as a puppy raiser. It is actually spoken in three scenes in the movie, between Aibileen and her little charge, a chubby, sweet 3-year old white girl named Mae Mobley. Mae Mobley does not have it easy. Having had the little girl while still practically a girl herself, her mother is unhappy, preoccupied and icy towards her daughter. So Mae Mobley turns to the maid Aibileen, who not only takes care of her physical needs, but loves her and gently guides her thru the early stages of life, including fundamentals like potty training and sore throats.

The line is first spoken during a very touching part of the movie, when the maid Aibileen tells Mae Mobley in a very soft, intimate, singsong voice, "You is smart....You is nice....You is important." The little girl solemnly listens and repeats after Aibileen as best she can, "...is smart...is nice...is important." Given her young age, you wonder how much of those concepts little Mae can really understand, yet somehow Mae Mobley recognizes the gravity of the words and tries hard to grasp and commit them to memory.

When Piper was a younger puppy he was a double handful of curiosity mixed with a strong helping of independence, and a dash of wildness. To top it off, he was not a napper! There were days when I yearned for a timeout from him, but since my husband was gone on a job and the nearest sitter was miles away, it wasn't going to happen. Sometimes it helped to sit him down in front of me, look into his puppy eyes and recite meaningfully the lines from The Help:  "You is smart...You is nice...You is important." Oddly enough, Piper would listen with great seriousness to the tone of my voice, as if trying to grasp the meaning of my words. Dogs may not know what you say, but they can certainly hear how you say it, thereby getting a handle on your feelings.

Saying those lines was a reminder to me of the importance of what I was doing. By reciting those words and believing in them, I was showing Piper my trust in his ability to fulfill those words. As puppy raisers, I think we all fiercely believe in our puppies and strive with all that we have to see that their smartness, niceness and future importance as service dogs will someday come to pass. We are our puppy's strongest advocates and supporters. Even if our puppies are throwing up or chewing something irreplaceable or embarrassing us in public, we puppy raisers fix or clean it up best we can, forgive, and with unquenchable optimism move on.

These days Piper is a much more well-behaved pup and I am happy with his steady progress. Although I don't need to say the lines out of sheer desperation anymore, I love to recite them to master Piper anyway and it strikes me that they ring with greater clarity as the days go by: "You is smart....You is nice....You is important."

Sing for Your Supper

There is a nursery rhyme about a little English lad that goes:

Little Tommy Tucker,

Sings for his supper.

What shall we give him?

White bread and butter.

Just like little Tommy Tucker in the nursery rhyme, 5-month Piper has started to sing for his supper. Well, not actually sing, but work for his supper, which is what little Tommy (an orphan) had to do in the England of yesteryear when unfortunate orphans often had to fend for themselves.


 

Master Piper is a puppy-and-a-half. If I could give him a Dickensian counterpart he would be a hybrid between Oliver Twist and the Artful Dodger. He is quick and smart and mostly sweet, but he does like to stay busy. As I have learned, if you don't give him constructive tasks to occupy the hours and his mind, he will find his own tasks - and they may not be to your liking. Tasks like bothering the cat or the more senior dog members of the family, or inspecting the counters in the kitchen, etc, etc. You get the idea.

One terrific way to diffuse some of that excess energy is prolonging Piper's mealtimes. Instead of releasing him to his food bowl, where he can polish off the contents in a couple minutes, I drag his meals out for a good 30 to 45 minutes. This is done in two ways:

This stuffable toy is called a Tux.

Part of his food I moisten with water or broth for about 3-5 minutes, then stuff into two Kongs and place in the freezer. The kibble isn't soft all the way thru, it's just wet and slightly soft enough on the outside that it sticks together when frozen. At mealtime I take out the Kongs, one at a time, and my lad Piper spends some quality time "singing for his supper", whether it is by licking or chewing or rolling or dropping the Kong on the floor. I can tell this Get-the-kibble-out-of-the-Kong game is very satisfying for him and a great way to expend some of his restless puppy energy. As an added benefit, because Piper is growing in his new set of teeth, the cold probably feels good on his gums.

Looking at the Kong photos above, it is interesting to note how many positions the dog gets into, how he grasps the Kong with his paws and the various ways he tries to manipulate the toy to get the chow out. He is totally engaged and working quite hard the entire time.

The leftover dry kibble I use to work young Master Piper thru some obedience. Right now we are working on good sits, with his back legs tucked directly under him, not flopped to one side (my lad can be rather a slouchy sitter). When Piper does it correctly, he gets a few kibble. Then I release him or make him settle, give him a few more kibble, ask him to sit again, give him more kibble, tell him to wait, release, give him more kibble, and so on till the kibble is gone. This can take about 5-7 minutes and really engages both Piper's brain and body.

The whole time Piper is "singing for his supper" he wears his Gentle Leader. He really does not like wearing the head halter, but all St Francis service dogs need to be accustomed to it. When he wears it while eating, the exercise serves a dual purpose. First, his mind is not on the Gentle Leader but on the chow so there is a positive association:  halter = chow = good! That is the idea anyway. Also it prolongs the amount of time he is wearing the Gentle Leader while not trying to rub it off - close to an hour.

Piper chews on a twig in a hay bale.

Some dog aficionados may think me a hard taskmaster, making poor little Piper sing for his supper. But I believe a higher drive puppy like Piper enjoys, actually needs, the challenge and interest of working for his meals. When the young master has finished the job he appears calm and relaxed. As they would say in jolly old England, "Well done, Piper, me lad!"

**Added to post 8-27-13:  I just realized that in the two weeks since Piper has started working for his meals, he has completely quit jumping on the furniture, going in my closet and stealing/chewing on shoes, chewing on the toilet brush in the bathroom (yuk!), bothering the cat as much, etc. In general his house manners have greatly improved. Coincidence? Maybe, but I don't think so.

Patricia McConnell; Update on Dorian at Guide Dog U

Speakers Steve White and Patricia McConnell (rather blurry).

Last weekend I got to meet one of Dog-dom's greatest - Patricia McConnell - PhD and author of numerous books on canine behavior and training, including "The Other End of the Leash." She spoke for most of Saturday and I was totally riveted by her charm, wit and scientific knowledge based on dog and animal behavior research. The seminar was attended by a broad mix of dog trainers, shelter and rescue workers, pet owners and surprisingly, a few zookeepers!

The second day Steve White, a K-9 police officer of 25+ years and founder of Proactive K9 Dog Training, spoke on problem-solving. He was amazing as well. Patricia McConnell introduced him as the police officer "you want to have show up at your door." As he looked across the room of several 100 people, he remarked that the majority were women. Twenty years ago, he said, the room would have been full of men instead. His reasoning for the gender-shift is that there has been a fundamental shift in dog training from the use of power to control a dog, to the use of positive reinforcement instead. Interesting!

The seminar was a huge hit. I got three cherished books signed by Trisha, came home and immediately applied some of the principles I learned. In the midst of all the travels and the seminar, I also received Dorian's third training report. In mid-April he had gone back to the school at Southeastern Guide Dogs, Florida to start his final round of training. He has now been there four months and below is shown some of his recent progress.

First, a month ago I received his June training report (#2).

Dorian with SEGD trainer Joe Menendez.

Here are the school's comments:
COMMENTS- Dori is an exceptional dog; he is a quick learner and easy to handle. I hope he was as easy on leash for you as he is being for the trainer! He is still enjoying life with his buddies in the kennel, although he can get loud at times when he wants to get out training!  

I had to laugh at the trainer's remark about their hoping Dorian was easy on leash for me. Actually, my New Year's resolution when Dorian was almost one year old, was to get him to walk nice on a leash and quit repeatedly stopping and sniffing. The school trainers gave me suggestions on this, but it still took about six weeks of walking him every morning to work him through it. Still I am pleased to see the hard work has paid off!

Next, in mid-July, a group of puppies was called back to start their training, known at the school as In For Training Day. Touching pictures of the puppies saying good-bye to their raisers were posted on the school's Facebook page. In amongst the photos are two pictures of Dorian, and I was surprised to discover he was one of the dogs chosen from the training kennel to do blindfold walks with visitors and raisers.

The photo to the left shows Dorian doing a blindfold walk on July IFT Day. Dorian's trainer Joe is on the right. Dorian is guiding Paul Wilson of Wilson Van Band, who has done benefit concerts for Southeastern Guide Dogs. This photo and the one above were posted on the school's Facebook page.





 Finally, his recent training report (#3) for July included this comment from the school:
COMMENTS- Dori is now onto the freelance stage of training. He is still progressing well as we have hoped. As I said before he is a quick learner, and VERY easy to handle on leash! I look forward to pushing him to be the best guide he can be and try to keep him on his toes during training. 


I was not exactly sure what freelance training was, so I asked and got this answer back from the school:
 "Freelance" means they are not doing specified, protocol routes; Dori is learning to generalize his training to different areas. It's "trainer's choice" basically and it means that Dori understands the concepts well enough to take his training to different venues. :)   
So in other words Dorian has completed his basic guide dog training and is now working on refining and gaining more experience. It's up to the trainer where that training takes place and what he wants to work the dog on - a more individualized program, so to speak. 

Meanwhile, life goes on with Piper. This week we are working on good sits, where he tucks his butt in when he sits, keeping his front paws stationary, rather than rocking backwards. This is so he can stay in very close range to his future partner. He is a busy boy, so...I am busy too!

Summer hay fields in Virginia. From left:  Piper, Hazel and Wrangell. I love that I captured Wrangell's yawn!

Of Puppies and Preschoolers

Piper the Ivy Gnome.

Preschoolers are fascinating creatures - and a little intimidating if you don't understand them. This past week I was thrown into a swimming pool of preschoolers. In other words I led a class of squirmy 3, 4 and 5 year olds at our church's Vacation Bible School. It was there I discovered that preschoolers and puppies have quite a bit in common.

Day One:  My two good helpers and I greet the kids in the preschool room. Like any good teacher, I am armed with a sheet of carefully prepared activities:  stories, crafts, songs and games meant to teach the little guys about God and His love for them. Within 10 minutes, no, five minutes, I throw my lesson plan away. Waist-high children mill and babble. One crying, a couple whining, some squealing, toys being dragged off shelves. Chaos, a teacher's mortal enemy, has reared its ugly head. This is not about teaching, I say to myself, this is about keeping miniature people from a pint-size riot. What was I thinking when I agreed to do this?

Inside me panic is rising. Until now my teaching has been limited to older children, teens, young adults, adults and...puppies. Wait a minute....puppies! Tiny little flash bulbs go off in my brain. Even as I watch the preschoolers I can recognize uncanny similarities between them and my puppies. Yes, I will approach the problem as a puppy raiser would, maybe it will solve this dilemma. Hmm, harnesses and leashes are out of the question. Too bad for that! 

Days One - Four:  These were the observations, skills and tools in my PR repertoire that I used to make our class of preschoolers roll along and keep our time together enjoyable:

• Keep commands short and simple.  SIT and STAY (with a hand signal) work great on preschoolers.

• Let them get their wiggles out.  Just like puppies, little people need to move and play.

Piper retrieves the Wubba on a long line.

• Read facial expression and body language.  If a child's face is open, learning will happen. If her face is closed, she doesn't hear you and doesn't care. Dogs will show similar expressions.

  

  Piper's open expression means he's ready to listen and learn.

• Blocking stops them in their tracks.  One little girl was getting ready to do a feet-first cowabunga onto a cardboard building. Without thinking I automatically blocked her, and saved the building. The same method works when Piper dives for dropped food.

• Your focus has to be stronger than their focus.  If you want the kids (or puppy) to do something, you have to patiently keep at it and eventually they will do it. Later they will be glad they did! 

• Though you can't use leashes, ropes work great.  To take the kiddies through the hall and downstairs to the snack area without scattering, we had them hold on to a long climbing rope with knots.

• Short attention spans = short teaching sessions.  Obedience training puppies is all about this. 10 minutes is too long.

• If a preschooler or puppy can't leave others alone, distance them.

• A slow voice and slow movements help calm excited little guys.
  

• Their vocabulary is very limited.  I spent the longest time getting the preschool group to form a line, only to realize later many of them didn't know what a "line" is! Remember these are PREschoolers. In the same light how many times have I repeatedly said a word or asked for an action my puppy didn't understand?

• Reward good behavior instead of correcting bad.  When a child was quiet and listening I paid attention to them, let them go first, etc. The others pick up on this rewarding fast! When Piper stops barking, I tell him he's a good boy and keep telling him as he remains quiet.

• Set boundaries and follow through.  Important rules (like no hitting) need to be enforced. Although I couldn't crate a child, one child did go in time out and another was sent to his parent/guardian. Crating is my last resort when Piper refuses to listen and gets rowdy.

• Puppies and preschoolers like routines.  Routines are comfortable. I like them too!

• The less distractions the better.  A room with no toys, a play field without other kids, a darkened room where each child has a tiny flashlight candle to bring them close together - all these helped. Puppies focus better in low-key environments too.

The preschoolers, my two great helpers and I all stayed VERY busy, had fun, and yes, we even did some learning. Some of you are probably wondering if I brought 4-month Piper along to the preschool room. Uh - no! If he had been older I would have tried, but Piper was a preschooler himself just a few short weeks ago. Mixing young puppies with preschoolers could have led to a Mt. St. Helens-type eruption. Instead Piper stayed home in his crate or was puppy sat and was all the better for it. But I am grateful that Piper and all my pups helped me unlock the door to that amazing stage in a kid's life - the preschool stage.

Visiting Ohio State University.

Wacky Women of Walmart

Piper is finally old enough to go into Walmart. Not that I make a point of frequenting the store, but if I have a list of odds and ends, like a watchband, hair conditioner and a birthday card, Walmart is the one-stop place to go. However, from my experience as a puppy raiser in southside Virginia, one cannot venture into the Danville Walmart anonymously. The Wacky Women of Walmart make sure of that.

First there is the Walmart Town Crier. I think the actual term for this lady's job is a Walmart greeter. The one who welcomes you to the store, maybe gets you a cart, etc. However at my Walmart, this greeter has added to her duties the public announcing, to all Walmart shoppers within earshot, that here comes a service dog.

Although this is not Walmart, it is a town crier.

"Well, look at this!" she announces. "Here comes a service dog doing his job. You are such a sweet little thing! I'm sorry, I wish I could rub you" (raising her voice to a falsetto), "but I know I can't. Yes, I bet you wish I could rub you, you poor baby, but no, I sure can't. Look at how good you're being, you are doin' a job...." and on and on and on. I hustle my puppy past her, making little eye contact. If I was a turtle my head would sink in. Deep into the store I can still hear her announcement, sometimes she even follows us a ways. The town crier effectively blows any attempt to keep a low PR profile, opening us up to further Walmart encounters. Although I have tried to nicely tell the Town Crier she needn't be so enthusiastic, she feels strongly she is doing a service.
She is indeed a bonafide Wacky Woman of Walmart.

One particular Wacky Woman of Walmart encounter will always stand out in my memory. It happened last summer, when my previous guide puppy, Dorian, was about 5 months old. Dorian, like all young puppies with service capes on, looked extremely cute and appealing. But...appealing was not the word for the wacky woman attack that ensued. After innocently inspecting the summer squash in the produce area, I turned around to find myself surrounded - front, back and sides by women with shopping carts.

Dorian and I were trapped. One woman had me distracted, locked in the age-old discussion of how could I ever give the puppy back because she certainly couldn't. That's when I looked down to check on Dorian. To my dismay I saw one of the ladies LYING ON HER STOMACH ON THE FLOOR, her face outstretched to Dorian's. I think she was doing a sort of Dog Whisperer move, explaining to the rest of the group how much dogs related to her.

Young Dorian at 5 months.

Maybe they do because Dorian could so easily have nipped her outstretched nose with his sharp little puppy teeth. Instead he was a young gentleman and watched her calmly but with great fascination. Seriously outnumbered, Dorian and I managed to break the puppy love fest off and graciously extricate ourselves from the circle of shopping carts. Shaken, I decided against summer squash, called it a PR day, and headed for the exit.

But wait, the nearest exit was the station of the Walmart Town Crier! No, we certainly did not need our exit from the store proclaimed, so Dorian and I headed for the yard and garden exit and made a clean getaway. Ha-ha, you Wacky Women of Walmart, we have dodged you once again!