On my previous post I expounded on the virtues of our dearly departed dog Oreo. He cannot be replaced. Yet considering that I have been volunteering at the Canine Assistants Center down the road, working with dogs in various ways in order to acquaint them with a person in a wheelchair (yours truly), I suppose it was not altogether surprising that an opportunity to adopt another dog would soon follow. A brief aside: the Canine Assistants Center, or CA, has an awful lot of dogs on their property which is affectionately know as "the farm." These range from whelping pups to grizzled two year olds. Yet just like their bipedaled friends (us humans), dogs have differing personalities and temperments, thus not all are going to become full-service, in public dogs. If you knew my father you would understand and be very grateful for this distinction. Additionally, waiting lists nationally for full-service dogs can be as long as six or seven years.
One of the dogs that I had worked with several times was an eighteen month old female named Jules. Jules is a very smart golden retriever mix who despite her intelligence has a quirky, skitterish personality and so would never become a public service dog. She is far too excitable and easily loses attention and concentration. In all this she in not unlike many blonde women I have known (now I have done it; pay no heed to the man behind the curtain). Still, Jules' trainer remarked with great surprise that from the moment I first encountered her, Jules was so much more calm and following of my commands and lead than she had ever witnessed. Expert trainers will tell you that it is the dog that chooses the future owner, not the other way around. This too has been my lonely experience with members of the fairer sex.
If you are a keen observer, you can probably tell where this is all leading. Having gone through all of the files of potential owners and finding no suitable matches, including the no-show of a would be match, Jules' trainer approached me and asked if I would be willing to give her a try. The rest is as they say "history." I have had Jules now for over two weeks, or maybe more accurately she has had me. As I write this she is sleeping at my feet in the cool of our basement, escaping from a sweltering Georgia June afternoon. The emptiness of this basement that a month ago was heartwrending has been filled with the youthful excitement of my spastic, joyful, flakey, loving, devious, loyal new companion. With my apologies to all lovers of the vast multiplicity of our animal friends around the globe: excuse me but DOGS RULE!!!!
