[Critique Group 1] Leonard's comments re: group 1 for November

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

Cleora 




 


This is the best chapterso far.  I’m sure the duck will return.She’ll come up with a new idea, or the magic visor won’t work outside of thekingdom. The only area I had any trouble with was in the descriptions of howthe mechanics of the visor worked.




 


The story so far:



Abandoned by herflock, Sitting, a visually impaired duck, was walking south for the winter whenshe found a crippled grasshopper who offered to help her in exchange for notbeing eaten.



Their journeybrought them to The Crystal Pond, an abandoned province in the kingdom of Hades Legionswhich is currently at war with the kingdom of Silent Enigma.



They are summonedto a meeting of the rulers of the various provinces in the kingdom where someof the rulers consider her useless because she is not a warrior, and otherssuspect her of being an enemy spy. 



Two provinceshave already been disabled by the enemy kingdom, and a new monarch is needed.Sitting suggests that they could defeat the enemy with cunning rather thanfighting. This rash suggestion leads to her being accepted as the new monarch.



Expectation thatshe can solve the problem and get them out of war in one piece weighs heavilyon Queen Sitting.



She has neverruled anything in her whole life and has no idea what to do. In fact, she isnot even sure she understands the problem.



Following aschool of fish in the Crystal Pond successfully killing the dragon sent againstthe kingdom, Regis and Dark Merlin, two of the kingdoms rulers, appear at theCrystal Pond to help her dispose of the dragon. They assure her that Thekingdom will support her. Dark Merlin helps her understand the messagingsystem, and she invites all the rulers to come for a feast.



The next morningAfter celebrating her killing the dragon, she finds that her food stores havebeen stolen, her province ravaged by fire and storm, and many of her subjectskilled.



What has shegotten herself into?



If that isn't badenough, she tries to fly and ends up crashing and feeding grasshopper to afish.



What is the useof going on? Can our mild mannered duck meet the challenge? Or, is it time tocut her losses and hid south.




 


1747 words



Part six



A Decision




 


The fish, firstwas stunned to find himself with a mouthful of Grasshopper, then startedlaughing uncontrollably, thus spitting Grasshopper out. Grasshopper spread hiswings and made a somewhat safe landing on the other side of Sitting.




 


“Are you nuts?”Grasshopper scolded. “What were you thinking. You didn't tell me you couldn'tfly. What kind of duck doesn't know how to fly. You could have killed me.Killed us both. Good grief. I need a bath.”




 


“Sorry. I toldyou before I ran into things a lot.”




 


“That wassupposed to be because you couldn't see.”




 


“Um. Speaking ofthat. As soon as I took off, I could see clearly. I got distracted.”




 


“And, for thatreason you decided to kill us both?”




 


Sitting loweredher head in shame. “I guess I'm just a worthless duck. I can't fly. I can'tsee. I get myself tangled up in all kinds of messes...” She sat down andstretched her head and neck out on the ground. “Just go get Regis. I'm ready togo.”




 


Grasshopperpaused, looking at Sitting with her closed eyes and neck outstretched. Was thata tear trickling down? he wondered. Slowly, his anger abated. “I'm sorry. it'snot that bad. I guess it just takes time. But, next time, watch where we'regoing.”




 


Sitting bowed herneck, raising her head slightly. Her bill still resting on the ground, “Quack!“I can't see any more.” she mumbled mournfully. “For a moment after we tookflight, I could see. Now it's gone.” She kept looking around, but everythingwas as blurry as ever.




 


Grasshoppercrawled over to Sitting and, hopping up on the carrier, wrapped it aroundhimself again. “Maybe there is a way to fasten this shield so I won't be thrownout.”. Raising the shield again, he began examining it to see if there was away to latch it in place.




 


“Hey, I can see!”She began whipping her head first in one direction and then the other again,trying to see everything. Again, Grasshopper sailed out of the carrier. Thistime he was headed for the castle wall. He spread his wings and managed to landsafely. “What is it with the acrobatics this morning?” 



“It's gone, but Icould see for a second.”




 


“What?” saidGrasshopper, hopping over to land in front of her.



“I could seeagain. Just for a moment after you got back in the carrier.”




 


“Are you doneslinging your head around?”




 


Sitting sighed.“Yes. Sorry.” She lowered her head so Grasshopper could climb back aboard.




 


Repositioninghimself in the carrier, Grasshopper paused to think. He had been in the carrierconstantly since Dark Merlin had put it on Sittings head. The only differencewas when he had raised the windshield when She launched herself into the airfrom the window sill. 




 


This time heexamined the carrier carefully. He had raised the small clear flap at the frontedge of the carrier thinking it would shield him from the wind in flight. Assoon as they were airborne, Sitting had begun whipping her head first one wayand then the other so he couldn't see the pond they were flying toward. When helooked around the edge of the shield, she had whipped her head in the directionof the pond moving his focus to the tree stubs beside the pond. When he hadlooked forward again, the bank was coming up swiftly and then they had crashed.




 


“I want to trysomething. I want you to keep your head perfectly still. Okay?”




 


“Okay.”




 


Grasshopperducked his head and moved back into the carrier, raising the shield.




 


Sittings visioncleared. She immediately forgot her promise and began looking all around.




 


Grasshopper wasprepared. He turned loose of the shield, and dug his feet into the side of thecarrier.




 


Sittings visionblurred.



“What are youdoing?” she asked.




 


“Trying to keepyou from slinging me out. If you're going to keep moving your head so much, letme get off.” He started to get out of the carrier. “Then, you can twist to yourhearts content.”




 


“I could see. Iwas trying to see everything. It was amazing. Now, it's gone again.”




 


“Hum,. Holdstill.” Grasshopper moved deeper into the carrier, and raised the shield again.




 


As before,Sitting's vision sharpened. This time she kept her head still. “What did youdo?”




 


“I raised theshield. The part of the carrier that is supposed to help me stay on when youare flying. It turns clear. It seems that when it is up, you are able to seewhat I see.”




 


“When I launchedoff the window sill, I was able to see to fly. It was amazing. For the firsttime, I could see clearly. I was looking at everything. The leaves in the pond,the fish floating on the surface, the clouds up above, the charred remains ofthe trees, the blades of grass on the ground; it was amazing.”




 


Grasshopper movedforward a little, and peeked around the shield. “Can you see?”




 


“Yes. But, I'mseeing things off to the side.”




 


Grasshoppertucked his head under a fold of the carrier. “Can you see?”




 


“No,” she saidsadly.




 


He brought hishead out so he could see again. “Can you see?”




 


“Yes.”




 


It's the carrier.Somehow, it seems to be transferring what I see directly to your mind when theshield is up. I won't have to tell you what I see anymore, I think you will beable to get it directly from my mind.”



“Hum, I wonderwhat else it can do?” 




 


“Dark Merlin saidthat when we put the visor down, we would be invisible. I'm not sure what...”Grasshopper noticed a flap folded back against the top of the carrier. “Iwonder what this does?” He slipped the ends of his antennae between the flapand the top of the carrier. The flap dropped down and snapped into place on thetop edge of the raised windshield. “Ah, that's the latch I was looking for.Now, maybe I won’t get thrown out so easily.”



I think this needs more clarification.  I think the mandibles  would be better devices to manipulate  the visor than the antennae. The latter aretoo delicate.




 



 


Sitting startedlooking around again. More slowly, this time. Despite the destruction to herland, it was marvelous to be able to see the sharp lines of the trees, theclutter of leaves and ash on the pond, and, sadly, the scales on the dead bodiesof the fish floating in the pond. 




 


“Hey. Where didyou go?” 




 


Sitting turnedher head toward the sound. An unfamiliar head was staring at them from thewater.



“Who are you?”




 


“Where are you?”said the fish.




 


“I'm right here.In front of you.”




 


“I can't see you.You were there, and then you just disappeared.”




 


Grasshoppertugged on the visor with his antennae and it snapped back up to the top of thecarrier.




 


“Oh. There youare again. I am the new lead fish. The former lead fish was killed along withmany of our school. They will be gathered into the storage bins as soon aspossible. They can be eaten. They gave their lives for the province. We knowthat most of the food has been stolen. They would want their bodies to servethe kingdom.”




 


Sitting looked atall the floating bodies. She felt a terrible sense of loss. She hadn't knownthem individually, but they had done what they could to help her. The thoughtof eating them, now, was sickening. “Yes,” she agreed. “Would you be able tosee to that?”




 


“Yes, My Liege.”




 


“Thank you. Iwill be talking to you again later,” she said as she turned and began walkingtoward the castle.




 


She had much tothink about. How could she fly away and abandon these creatures that had doneso much to welcome her, and make her feel at home. But, she had no idea what todo. she felt she had friends now, and she was sure they would do whatever theycould to help. Then, there was the surrender option. She didn't know exactlyhow to do that. Also, the members of this kingdom were enduring a lot of painand hardship because they had refused to surrender. She didn't understand why.It seemed the obvious way out, but Dark Merlin and others had suggested thatsurrender was the last thing they were willing to do.




 


“Could we goaround to the edge of the castle where that puddle of stagnant water was?”asked Grasshopper.




 


Sitting, deep inthought, turned toward the repaired battlement and walked around to the puddleGrasshopper had mentioned.




 


She sat downbeside it and stared at her reflection in the water. Suddenly, her imagedisappeared. “Hey, I'm blind again. I can't see myself.” She raised her headand began looking around. She could see the sharp lines of the stones in thebattlement, and the ant mound behind the castle. She tilted her head toward thewater again. She saw some mosquito larva floating on the water. She snatchedthem up with her bill. “Where is my bill?”



Then, her headand neck reappeared in the water.



“What's goingon?” she asked.




 


“The visor,” saidGrasshopper. “I figured it out. When I raise the windshield, you are able tosee what I see. I found a flap in the top of the carrier. When I lower it, itsnaps into place on the edge of the windshield. When it is lowered, we areinvisible.”



He raised thevisor again, and Sittings image appeared in the water. “Now, I'm pulling itdown.” Her image disappeared.




 


“Well,” she said.“That's a handy little bit of knowledge.”



She waded outinto the puddle and gazing out over the charred remains of her province,settled down on the water to think. The province is a mess. The enemy is goingto destroy me along with the rest of the kingdom if I hang around. I don’tbelong here. My presents is just an accident. There is nothing I can do tohelp.



“Lower the visor,snap yourself in. We're going south for the Winter.”




 


Saying nothing,Grasshopper pulled the visor down, and it snapped into place on the top edge ofthe windshield as Sitting spread her wings and lifted them both into the 



air.




 


On the ground,tiny eyes filled with despair as the flapping of wings followed by a rush ofair marked her departure.



To be continued... 




 


Deana 




 



 
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As usual, this is delightful and informative.  Irish’s character and personality come outdistinctly, as do her flaws and strengths. The series certainly points out thatdogs are as individual as humans.  Goodjob.




 


Chapter22



IrishEyes



 



Itmight seem that after such a difficult ending to our working life together, Imight have been to heart-sick after losing Phoebe to return for another dog. Igrieved but also picked myself up and prepared to try again. At the end of eachdog-handler relationship, regardless of why the team ends a partnership, itmeans beginning again from the very start. The handler must be willing to opentheir hearts to a new friend. each of my dogs leaves paw prints on my heart andcarves out a unique space in my life. The reason I refer to my dogs assuccessors is that they can never replace the previous dog and there will neverbe another Tammy.  



Great parragraph.



 



ALady In Waiting



 



Whatto pack?



Sturdywalking shoes,



Herfavorite dress for pictures.



Raincoatjust in case,



Anopen-heart.



 



Whatto leave?



Regretsfor what was,



Sorrowfor what has ended.



Longingfor the past,



Secondthoughts.



 



Whoawaits?



Whowill fill the void?



She’slike a mail order bride,



She’sfull of questions,



Noanswers.



 



Hope-filledheart,



Anticipation.



Herheart struggles to open,



Tobegin again,



Towelcome.



 



Toreceive 



Atrue gift of love.



Nowonder she can't decide,



Whatshe needs to have-- 



Excepta new guide dog.



 



          Irish was my smallest guide dog. She was another black Labradorand weighed in at sixty pounds.  My younger daughter, Kassia  wasfour. She couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t allow her to go to guide dogschool training without her. She claimed to remember going to class to trainwith Phoebe. She said she had a lot of fun bouncing around in my tummy andshould be allowed to come this time too. I left for class on January 2nd,1984. For the first week of training, Irish was perfect. She was quiet, and herpace and pull were well matched to mine. It wasn’t until the first snowfall,that she began to demonstrate her true personality. We stepped out the parkdoor and she launched herself from the top step to roll snorting in the freshsnow. I was dragged down the steps at the end of the leash. My quiet perfectlittle dog was a complete snowflake. She also objected to relieving herself ondirty snow. Instead of circling around me at the end of her leash to locate theperfect spot, she would make one circle and then plant herself beside me tolean against my leg. She tilted her head to look up at me as if to say, “Ican’t go here! It’s too dirty. Eventually, to avoid frostbite, I would allowher to move off the concrete into a snowbank. 



‘m a little hazy here as to where she goes to the bathroom. Does she og onthe sidewalk? How can she do it in a snow bank. Who’s frostbite are youreferring to?



 



Whenwe returned home, I discovered that although she knew quite well what to do,she didn’t always do it.  She was a party girl. She loved people, goingplaces and best of all sniffing. Although she could guide well, she didn’t likemaking decisions. She would guide me right up to an obstacle and stop, waitingfor me to tell her which way to turn.  If I suggested she might try movingright, she would crane her neck to the right and then not move if she didn’tthink she could get around that way. If I then suggested she should try goingleft, she moved off in that direction.  She always made me direct her,rather than make a decision before we reached the barrier. If we were walkingin the narrow path between snowbanks toward another pedestrian, she refused todecide to move over to pass them. She marched up and barked at them to move andlet us pass.   




 


I know it is difficult to find differentways of saying, “she this and she that,” but I recommend that you try. Thiswill mean varying sentence structure. That will make the reading moreinteresting. It will mean avoiding monotony. In other words, the quality of the sound will not be as singsong.



Oneof her other quirks was that she hated anyone staring at me. She would lean herweight against my side and growl so softly that it was only perceptible becauseher ribs were against my calf.  When I asked people what she was lookingat, they told me it was a man usually wearing a hat staring at us.



Wow! She was very perceptive. Sightedhumans will recognize a starer quickly and will be made to feeluncomfortable.  When she perceived theperson staring at you, it was like they were, by extension, staring ather.  Good dog!



 



Oneday, she was so busy sniffing that she failed to warn me that we had reachedthe corner.  I tripped off the curb, painfully twisting my ankle. I satthere massaging my ankle and said through gritted teeth, “Irish! If you don’tget your nose out of that storm drain, I am going to rip your ears off andstuff them up your nostrils!” 



Anelderly woman arrived just then and overheard my remarks to my dog. She wasoutraged that I would say such a thing to my wonderful dog. 



No telling what would have come out of hermouth if it were her ankle.



 



Thepublic doesn’t understand the need for discipline. I should have given Irish adouble-handed high collar leash correction accompanied by a firm verbalreprimand for doing something dangerous to my safety and causing me an injury.Since we were at least a half mile from home with no means of calling my familyfor help, I could have been stranded there indefinitely if my ankle was damagedenough that I couldn’t put weight on it. My dog understood she had misbehaved,but she certainly didn’t understand the verbal threat. If a guide dog getsdistracted by sniffing another person, seeks their attention or distracted fromconcentrating on guiding their blind handler, the consequences could bedisastrous to the blind person. Praise and even high value treats as rewardsare important. Cuddling, petting and play with a guide dog when out of harnesshelp to cement the bond between the dog and owner. However, the dog is a highlytrained professional. He needs reminders that when his harness is on, ordinarydoggy behavior is taboo. This must be strictly enforced if he is to remain ofuse as a guide dog.



 



Oneof Irish’s favorite leisure activities was running on a long leash beside ourtandem bike. If Curtis and I took the bike out of the shed, she expected to gofor a run. One day, another elderly woman stopped her car in the road tothreaten us with reporting us to the SPCA for cruelty to our dog because wewere forcing her to run beside us. I asked my vet to write a letter if I neededto defend myself against any action she might take. My vet was supportive. Sheknew my dog was young, fit, and that I would never push her beyond her strengthor ability. 



My lab insisted on jumping out of the carwindow when we got to a country road, and would run for miles at great speedwhile we trailed behind him.  Finally, hewould jump into a stream to cool down. I swear that he whinnied like a horseuntil we opened the window to let him out.



Irishalso loved to swim. She would dive into the river, swimming down to retrieverocks and bring them to pile them next to me on the bank. My little daughterput her to work helping clear up tree litter from the yard after storms. Shehappily helped gather fallen cones and branches.



 



Whilewalking through town on a quiet Sunday, I paused at an intersection with Irishand my five-year old daughter Kassia.  Since no traffic was moving at all,I instructed “Irish, forward.”  When we reached the other side, a womanacross the parallel street shouted, "Your dog crossed against the walksign."  I yelled back "She can't read.”  As we approachedthe next intersection, my daughter leaned down to explain to Irish. “When the signlooks like that. It means ‘dog catcher over there!’  So don't go. When it



Lookslike that.  It means free dog biscuits over here.  There Mommy,”announced my clever child.  "Now she can read."  



These anecdotes are priceless. 



I retired her after four years because shesuffered from extreme allergies to cat fleas. The poor girl got dime-sizedhives if bitten by a tic.  She had to be kept on medication from earlyspring through to the first frost in the fall.  Her medical expenses madeit unlikely that I would readily find an adoptive home for her.  I havedone my best to analyze their needs when placing my dogs in retirementhomes.  Only Irish was of a temperament that I felt comfortable keepingher as a family pet.  She had never really liked guiding and was happy tospend a lot of time outdoors running with our other family pet dog.  Itransferred her care to my youngest child several months before going for areplacement.  After retiring, only once, did she indicate that she wantedto guide.  My new pup was exuberantly dancing around at the sight of hisharness.  So much so, that I was having trouble catching hold of him toslide the harness over his head.  Irish walked over and put her headthrough the harness as if to say, "This is what you should be doing."Since I was only going down the drive to get the mail, I buckled her up andwent out the door.  The new pup in town was so upset; he jumped throughthe screen door to race after us. Just then, my ride to work arrived.  Iquickly switched the harness to the correct dog, handed Irish the mail and senther back up the driveway to my daughter where she stood on the porch. 



 



Irish taught me to pay close attention.  Herparty girl approach to life meant that I could never just relax and expect herto do all the work. Although she was capable of excellent guiding, lovedgetting into her harness, she was an odd combination of soft and stubborn. If Icorrected her too firmly, she simply flopped down and refused to move. I had tocall the school to send a trainer out for the first time. 



I think a new parragraphshould start at the end of the above line. 



On a trip into town, Irish stopped to investigatea particularly fragrant drain. I firmly corrected her and went on to thegrocery store. On the way home, she veered out into the middle of the highway,walking me down the centerline. Huge logging trucks sped by going in oppositedirections. I was almost blown off my feet in the buffeting slipstream. Sheobviously had decided that if I was going to be mean about her sniffing thedrain, she simply would not go anywhere near that drain on the way home. I wasshaking like a leaf by the time we made it back to the house. I immediatelycalled for help when I finally got home.  Follow-up service from your training school is vital. Even an experiencedhandler can need some help from time to time. 



 



The trainer the school sent was an experiencedinstructor. After Irish refused to get up after I was told to correct her forwalking me into a blackberry bramble growing out on the shoulder of the road,he agreed with my assessment. He said she would always be a challenge to work,but that she was really watching traffic and would not get me run down. As wonderful a pet as she remained for my daughter for the next 8 years, it wasalmost a relief to hang up her harness and train with another dog.   



I you’d lost your balancewhen she lead yoou down the middle of the hiway, you would have been run down.



Ireshtaught me that unless you truly enjoy your work, you will only be adequate atit but not give it your best. Knowing the task isn’t enough to be excellent atit. I can understand that as I would rather read a book, write a poem, or playwith my children than do housework. I do it because I don’t like dirt anddisorder, but I will never have the sense of pride and accomplishment I saw mymother take in a perfectly kept home.




 


Newest of Diana’ssubmissions




 


Another wonderful chapter.  I’ve never seen a lab as large as Gentry. 14is pretty good for a dog that big. How scared did the woman with the baby get?How long did Gentry have his cat? One of the best things about your stories isthe development of your canine’s personalities. 




 


Chapter23.



Red-neckTrucker Dog



 



Gentrywas my fifth dog.  He was 95 pounds, fast, strong and had no respect forwomen.  He was also my best traffic dog.  His speed and agilityproved priceless when he needed to spin me into a hundred and eighty degreeturn and back on to the curb to avoid being run down by a Winnebago or loggingtruck.  He could easily walk the five miles from our home out along acounty road with no side walks.  When we arrived in the vicinity, he stillhad so much energy that he pretended not to see the turn into my restaurant andtried to sail on by hoping for another five miles of jogging. I called him myred-neck trucker dog because he always thought he knew best.  If I decidedto go left at a corner and he thought we should go right, he neededconvincing.  After several firm commands to turn in the direction I chose,he would move off slowly grumbling argumentatively under his breath.  Thetranslation was clear, “The damned woman is all turned around!  The bankis over there!  Women just have no sense of direction!



I get the picture. It is very funny.



Whenshe figures out she has made a mistake, we’ll just have to turn-around and goback!” When we arrived at my destination, he would huff at me as if to say:“why didn’t you tell me you wanted to go to J.C. Penneys!” When waiting at astreet crossing, he would surge forward when the light changed and the paralleltraffic began to move. I had to be firm about waiting for my command beforeentering the street. If we were walking past a familiar shop that I sometimesentered, he tried to drag me over and insist we go in. 



 



Gentryhad a softer side as well.  His favorite toys were soft plush animals or asock doll I made for him.  He also loved kittens.  He drove ourfamily cats crazy trying to pick them up and carry them around.  He endedup with a scratched nose more than once when he poked his large black Labrador face into the exposed belly of a sleepingcat.  It never discouraged his belief that all cats were adorable.Eventually he adopted a black kitten that someone dropped off on ourdriveway.  They often slept together.  The kitten curled betweenGentry’s large front paws serving as a pillow for his big buddy’s broadbear-like muzzle.



 



Gentryalso loved babies and small children. All it took to completely break his focuswas 



The phrase, ‘Also loved.’ Is a bit overused.




 


atoddler crying out, “Goggy!” He would totally forget he responsibility to me asmy 



guideand start wriggling and wagging madly. He would agree, “Yup! That’s what I am!I’m a goggy!”



 loveyour rendition of doggie language.



Hefrightened a young mother in a department store when he noticed she wascarrying an infant. He stood on his hind legs to get a better look waggingexcitedly. He didn’t touch either mother or child, just did his best to tellme, “Look! It’s a baby!”   



 



Gentryhad a particularly delecate stomach, but a sincere belief that food of any kindwas for eating. Keeping him from scavenging or eating anything that presenteditself was something I had to work on. Having him in my life taught me to dogproof and pay attention to changes in our routines. Holidays, travel, or notgiving him enough work could all throw his digestion off. I wrote the followingessay and poem to share some of what I learned with other dog handlers duringthe time I worked this complex partner.



                               Gentry's Lament



                   By Gentry, a black Labrador retriever, 



Gentry”s Lament,



By Gentry,a            graduate ofThe Seeing Eye inc.  








                With editorial assistance from DeAnna Noriega




 
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Christmas is such a confusing time,



All the everyday rules seem to change.



A tree is not for the kitty to climb,



Or where to leave your mark, it’s strange.



 



Master covers it up with lights on a cord,



In which it is easy to tangle your paws.



And she spends more money than she can afford.



But woe to the dog who breaks any laws.



 



Don't chase the kitty up into the tree!



Don't help yourself to the snacks on the table!



Even a ball is not what it should be,



And you must rush around as long as you’re able.



 



Hurry everywhere with no time for stopping.



There are so many people that you don't know,



And master spends all her time shopping.



Or she packs for a trip--will you get to go?



 



If you love your dog then take my advice.



Make time for a game or a pat on the head.



A new toy or dog treat would also be nice.



Your dog loves you best, when all has been said.



 



He doesn't ask much for all that he gives,



His friendship, his caring, his joy in his work.



Taking care of you is for what he lives



So, remember his needs, and don't be a jerk!



(Okay, so its doggerel at its worst, but what do youexpect from an over worked Labrador retriever guide dog?)



 



     Seriously though, there a fewthings you should do to make the holidays easier on us guide dogs.  Dogproof your holiday decorations.  Poinsettias and the berries off mistletoeare poisonous to small children and us curious canines.  Gifts under thetree that give off strong odors; such as chocolates, fruitcakes or boxes fromHickory Farms, can be a terrible temptation to those of us who live for ournoses.








     The holidays can also meandisruptions to familiar schedules.  This can lead to the disturbance ofbodily functions.  Be sure to offer frequent opportunities for your dog torelieve himself.  Try to avoid changes in his diet by bringing along orhaving someone purchase his accustomed food in advance of your visit. When spending long hours in transit, remove your dog's harness for comfort andtry for seating with adequate room beneath seats for your dog to relaxin.  A dog biscuit or chew might also make up for missed meal times andmake anxiety during land ins and takeoffs easier for yourdog.     Your dog is likely to be overstimulated by theattentions of holiday guests.  Give him a chance to spend time with youalone.  Be sure to maintain obedience exercises and groomingrituals.  This will reassure him and keep him clean and well mannereddespite the excitement around him.  Also, make time for play, this willrelieve his tension and give him a chance to burn off steam.  Don't forgetlots of praise and reassurance when things get tough in new surroundings. If you must correct your dog firmly, follow the correction with a simplecommand for which you can lavish him with praise.  This helps to soothehis feelings at the same time showing him that he is a good dog, and that theundesired behavior is the problem.  



     If you must leave your dogin an unfamiliar environment, be sure to leave his care provider withveterinary information.  Leave him with a few familiar things from home,such as a favorite rug, toys and food dishes.  An old sweater or otherpiece of your clothing with your scent on it can sometimes keep your dog fromfeeling abandoned among strangers. Remember your dog needs just a little morecare and attention  during stressful situations.   Wherever yougo, and whatever you do, have a happy holiday season!  



 



Gentryand I traveled many miles on Greyhound Buses and planes as I became more activein The American Council of the Blind and accepted a gubernatorial appointmenton the Oregon State Library Board of Trustees.  He did his best work whenin unfamiliar areas.  He was easily bored when we were travelingpredictable routes.  Boredom led to impulsive actions.  For example,he jumped into an oily water filled drainage ditch because he was hot on thelong walk to work.  He also jumped up onto a drugstore counter to seewhere the chirping of a canary behind the counter was coming from. Although his exuberance and strength were a challenge to control, he hadterrific initiative in problem solving.  One day I wanted to go to ameeting held in a room at the library.  The front and side entrances werelocked and of course if there was a sign posted anywhere, it wasn’t accessibleto me.  After we had circled the library twice with Gentry showing melocked doors, I gave up and started back to my restaurant.  A block away,Gentry suddenly pulled me up the steps of a house.  He spotted some peoplethrough a picture window and decided I needed help.  Before I could turnhim back to the street, the gentleman of the house came out to ask if I neededanything.  After I explained that my dog thought I was lost because I wasunable to find an entrance to attend a meeting at the library, the gentlemanshowed us where a back staircase led to an open door.  



 



Gentryloved to travel.  He dived under airline seats and curled up so tightly,that an airline stewardess once asked me if I wanted my bag put into theoverhead storage locker.  She mistook the handle of his harness for thehandle of a rolling suitcase.  When Gentry was nearly ten, he accompaniedCurtis and me on a Caribbean cruise tocelebrate our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. He got to leave his mark onseven different islands.   



 



When Gentry began to limp on cold mornings and hadtrouble coming awake and alert after being down at rest, I knew it was time tostart the process of looking for a retirement placement.  He worked tenyears.  My husband had decided to move from Oregonto Colorado.Our eldest daughter had chosen a college in Grand Junction Colorado.Two of my uncles, two of my brothers, my mother and several nieces and nephewslived there. Our youngest daughter was also interested in attending auniversity in Fort Collinsthat had three different tracks of equine management. Having two daughters incollege would mean a lot of out-of-state fees. My mother was experiencinghealth problems and as eldest daughter, I wanted to be able to help her dealwith things.  Gentry was a country dog. I thought moving from a ruralsetting to a large urban one was a lot to expect of an eleven and a half yearold dog.



 



  Although his exuberance and strength were achallenge to handle throughout our time together, he was a wonderfulguide.  I couldn't just work him when I knew he was in pain even though hewould have continued to guide until he dropped-dead in harness of old age. 



 



Scottie, my best friend at college,  and Ihad kept in touch over the years.  She and her husband and son now livedon the family farm.  Her mother had recently lost a sweet yellow labradorI had found for her as a companion.  Mom Hagedorn still lived alone in herhouse on the farm.  Scottie helped me convince her that Gentry would be agreat security guard with his large size and deep authoritative bark.  Hishouse manners were excellent and he enjoyed children so Scottie’s son Jonathonjoined the effort to convince grandma that they needed to adopt this bigfellow.  He died at fourteen.  I saw him several times during hisretirement and was glad he was having a good time in a warmer climate with achild to play with and other dogs to dominate.  It seemed to me, that itwas only fair to give him those three years of rest after the ten years he hadgiven me.  



 



Before his death, he achieved two more of his lifegoals.  One day while walking along the canal near her home in California, Scottie andGentry spotted a bunny out on a spit of land made where the canal made a turn.He finally caught a rabbit. He proudly brought it and dropped it at Scottie’sfeet. He didn’t even mind when it proceeded to make its escape. He was justproud of having caught it. I sent him a plush bunny for Christmas to mark theevent. He also gained a good deal of weight.   I had insisted heremain below the hundred pound limit because people often mistook his squared offhead, broad muzzle and muscular chest as those of a rotweiler.  I knewthat not even a pinch collar and gentle-leader head collar would be enough tocounter balance his determination and large body mass if he weighed much more.I suspect Labradors are always hoping to fillout more of the wrinkles in their oversized hides. They never think they havehad enough to eat.   Gentry taught me to accept others forthemselves.  No one is perfect, but if we can learn to focus on the goodqualities in their natures, we can live with those that aren't to our liking. Iwrote this poem when I had to attend a conference after his retirement andbefore I was given a class date.



 



ALetter To Gentry In His Retirement



 



I amhere, X…



Iknow where I want to go.



Thedirections I have



Tellme to proceed south.



Thereis no sun on my face,



Nofriendly trees festooned with moss on their north sides.



Onlythis hotel lobby,



Withmyriad radiating corridors.



Noway to guess--which direction to turn.



Decorativeplanters and urns full of sand,



Springout to block my path,



As Itrail the walls in search of doors.



Igrope the panels seeking elusive braille signage.



Guidedogs sweep past me,



AndI cross canes with someone going the other way.



I amtempted to challenge--en garde.



Imiss you so much, my dear old man.



Youwho have walked by my side,



Guidingmy steps for nine of your eleven years.



Youhave been my protector, my champion,



Myfriend, my loyal guide dog.



I amhere, X…



Butwhere have they moved there--too?



I don’t understand thelast line.




 


Marcia




 


This is one of the best depictions of theprogress of Alzheimer’s disease in an individual, the background history, theeffects on the remaining family and the loss of self.  I can’t find anything to suggest. I wish Icould.  Kudos to the writer.




 


Iwatch as the caregiver tentatively approaches Dad with his morning orangejuice. She doesn’t want to startle him; he doesn’t know who she is. For thatmatter, he doesn’t recognize me either. The fourth of six children, I am onhand to observe and orient the new in-home care provider during her first dayon the job.



 



Decadesago, when Mom and Dad were lucid, our family agreed that we would help ourparents age in place at home instead of moving them into a retirementcommunity. From a financial point of view, it made sense- the cost of assistedliving these days is $4,000 to $8,000 per person each month! Of course we hadno idea then what helping them age in place at home would ultimately entail. 



 



It’sbeen four years since the first hints of Dad’s memory loss at age 90, Then hedeveloped oral cancer. The man never smoked one day in his life, but he didresearch with atomic energy during the 1950s while in the Air Force. Was thatthe cause of the cancer? No one could know. The anesthesia, twice because thecancer recurred, perhaps accelerated the memory loss that had already begun. 



I am glad you’ve mentioned that anesthesiacan promote dimentia. I don’t think the general public is aware of that.  I have a friend who oted out of kneerelacement surgery when she became aware of the potential for that effect.  I insisted on a spinal when I had my kneesreplaced.



 



Whenthe time came to hire a caregiver, both Mom and Dad resisted the help. After 40years of managing and maintaining their retirement home without assistance,they felt their privacy was being invaded. We argued that our 90-year-old Mom,weighing barely 90 pounds and struggling with Macular Degeneration herself,couldn’t lift Dad without help when he first arrived home after surgery. Momcouldn’t admit that Dad’s memory was fading; she was in denial over her ownweakening and confusion. She expressed sour displeasure when we remainedever-present even after Dad had mostly recovered from his first operation. 



 



Followinghis second surgery, Mom could no longer fight us on Dad’s need for constantcare, although she continued to refuse help for herself. Our youngest sistermoved into their house full-time.  For two years, even with six of us anda paid caregiver, we had our hands full with the two of them. 



 



Then,Mom fell - abruptly, unexpectedly, traumatically – one minute, she stoodtalking with Dad and his caregiver, and then she crashed like a tree to theground, cracking the back of her skull on the rock hard tile which she herselfhad selected 40 years earlier for the elegant entryway to their then-new home.It was a game-changer. She fought for three weeks to recover, but she simplylacked the strength and succumbed. 



 



Now,we follow Dad’s lead as he continues his journey “alone.” At first, he wasconfused as to why his wife of almost 70 years would “leave him.” We tried tocomfort him, placing photographs of her pretty face throughout the house, andmaking frequent visits to the cemetery.  



 



ThisOctober, on the first anniversary of Mom’s death, we gathered with Dad at hergrave. His children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren chatted and laughedas we freshened the flowers and told family stories. Dad sat on his walker thatcomes with a flip-down seat, and stared at the marker, asking again and again,“Where is my wife?”



 



Wevacillated, trying to explain the afterlife to this man who has lost theability to understand. We assured him that Mom was in heaven waiting to bereunited with him (at the same time urging he not be in a hurry to leave us);still confused, we proposed the more scientific explanation that Mom’s body wasburied, warm and peaceful, beneath the well-tended green grass.



 



“But,where will I go?” he demanded. 



 



Again,we offered variations on the concept of heaven, burial, and the separation ofour eternal soul from our earthly body. Thankfully, we were the only group atthe cemetery that day so there was no risk of appearing irreverent as mybrother and sisters alternated lying down side-by-side on top of Mom’s grave,blinking at the bright cerulean sky, holding hands, demonstrating how Dad wouldlie next to Mom like they used to in bed. Dad didn’t seem bothered by oursilliness. Somehow, I think he knew we were trying to help him comprehend,trusting us when he was most vulnerable – not knowing who we were. Dad asked ifany of us had known his lovely wife. It struck me then, even while he  waslooking at the marker for “Barbara, beloved wife and mother,” that he wasbeginning to forget her name. Eventually, Dad tired of sitting outside and weheaded home.



 



At94 with Alzheimer’s, it’s as if Dad is performing a slow disappearing act. Thefather I’ve known for more than 60 years is vanishing from view. He no longerresembles the intrepid mountain climber, the Air Force officer, the confidentchemistry teacher, or the world traveler. 



 



Itried to see Dad through the caregiver’s eyes as he sat wordless, watchingbirds outside the window, tapping his chest, and forgetting to eat thebreakfast she has placed in front of him. Imagining how Dad must appear to thecaregiver as she was meeting him for the first time, I was saddened she wouldsee only the shell of a man - stooped, shuffling, wobbly, confused, andsmelling slightly of urine due to overnight incontinence. Most of his teeth aremissing from his two bouts with oral cancer; his dentures weren’t yet in place.As always, he sat with the morning paper, flipping through the pages front toback, back to front, and front to back again.



 



“What’sin the news?” I ask.



 



Hehangs his head and says, “I don’t know.”



 



Whenthe caregiver prompts him to drink his juice, he stares blankly, uncertain whatshe’d said either because he isn’t wearing his hearing aids or his brain can’tprocess her words. The new aide couldn’t know that the newspaper, orange juice,and a mug of hot tea have been part of Dad’s morning routine for most of hislifetime, nor could she know my pain at seeing the ritual fading. 



 



Heis amiable, not angry; polite, not belligerent. We are grateful for smallfavors. He doesn’t wander or put himself at risk, but he needs prompting to eatand use the bathroom. He eats well and sleeps soundly. His heart and his lungsand his kidneys are strong. He sits wordless for endless hours coloring withpencils in his special coloring book for seniors, but he can no longer puttogether the pieces of a jig saw puzzle.



 



It’sa mixed blessing –Dad has forgotten he is a widower, he doesn’t miss hismissing teeth, he doesn’t mind a bevy of “strangers” hovering about him everymoment. He is unaware that his loving daughters are helping him toilet, bathe,and dress. He can’t remember the word for “robe,” and at times doesn’trecognize his own home.



 



Today,the caregiver sees a man bent over his walker, dragging his slippered feet,uncertain of the direction to the bathroom. Although the aide is kind andcompassionate, I am compelled to follow them and flood her with stories ofDad’s disappearing past.



 



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