[Critique Group 1] February Submission

[Deanna Noriega]

Part two of Griffin

 

Griffin also helped me through another life transition. I would have had a
difficult time adjusting to no longer having any children in our home in
Colorado. Our youngest daughter decided not to go to college. She insisted
on marrying her high school sweetheart shortly after she turned eighteen.
Having Griffin to nurture and shape into a star dog helped me to weather the
inevitable stresses of empty nest syndrome.

 

An example of how much time and care a guide dog can require can be
illustrated by sharing the story of what happened when I attempted to give
Griffin his spring bath. 

 

On that June morning in Colorado Springs, the weather was in the seventies
with a warm dry wind.  I usually took my guide dog Griffin to an
owner-grooming place that supplied all of the necessities and bathe him
there.  I decided to give him his bath in my home tub.  It was one of the
oversized affairs with a wide seat at the front and a step up to get in ala
Roman design with shower curtains instead of glass doors. Griffin hated
baths.  I gathered all of my equipment; shampoo, zoom groom rubber brush,
bar of flea soap, old towels, dog cologne and conditioner.  I changed into
my swimsuit and we proceeded into the bathroom and close the doors.  Griffin
stood with head down, tail tucked and whimpered through the rinsing and
soaping.  My shower head is one of those that can be detached with a hose on
it to get the water where it's needed. After wringing out as much water as I
could with my hands, I dried him with two large towels and took him outside
to clip him to the porch railing with a leash.  I went back inside to remove
five pounds of dog hair from the tub.  I mopped up the water he had shaken
all over the place.  I gathered up the soggy bath mat, hairy towels,
grooming tools and doggy cleaning products, stowing them in the appropriate
locations.   I got dressed in my jeans.  When I went out to see how Griffin
was drying and whether it was time to brush out the loosened fur from his
coat, I couldn't find him.  Following the leash still clipped to the porch
rail, I discovered he had squeezed through the railing, then crawled under
the porch and was completely covered in mud. He had taken refuge under the
steps.  This area is usually pretty fragrant as it is where our old cat used
to go to relieve himself when the ground was covered with snow.  The mud
fortunately hadn't retained much odor since Aslan left us last year in
August for kitty heaven.  It was hanging in clumps and completely ground
into the fur.  He had obviously rolled around in it.  So, it was back into
the bathtub and the whole process had to be repeated.  I was in such a hurry
to get him into the tub that I didn't take time to change back into my
bathing suit.  My clean tub got another layer of dog fur supplemented with
gritty mud and My jeans got soaked. To say I was unsympathetic as I rubbed
and scrubbed my whimpering mud hound would be an understatement.  I vowed to
go back to the self-Grooming shop, no matter the state of my wallet, the
next time I needed to bathe my guide dog.  They have hair dryers, grooming
tables and large sinks at convenient heights.  Best of all, when I am done,
I can take off the rubber apron, turn in the tools and grooming products and
leave the mess for someone else to clean up.  My lower back didn't
appreciate stooping over a cowering dog for three hours for the two combined
baths. However, the mission was finally accomplished and he was transformed
once again into a beautiful German Shepherd Seeing Eye Dog, clean, fragrant
and minus much of his winter coat.

Curtis and I opened a fair trade gift shop in the historical district of
Colorado Springs known as Old Colorado City. It kept us busy and gave us a
good excuse to travel. Eventually we were selling hand-crafted items from
over 35 countries. Although we never made much money, we enjoyed the work
and the feeling of contributing to third world economics. We explored the
available technology such as bar code scanners, programs to keep inventory
and ordering that operated with screen reading talking programs. I took
classes to become more computer savvy. I was able to get some writing done
and published. 

 

Our eldest daughter graduated from college, completed a master's degree in
criminal justice. Our youngest daughter was raising three children on her
own. We offered to help her get an AA degree to become a certified
veterinary technician, a CVT. She joined us when her children were seven,
five and three. We helped with childcare while she worked and attended
classes. 

 

Griffin displayed some new talents. He kept track of three children and made
sure that we always had all three with us before starting off. He was
especially fond of the youngest girl, Amberlee. He would bring her one of
his toys and gently place it in her hand to throw. He made her older brother
and sister chase him down and wrestle for the things he freely offered to
his favorite child. . 

 

One day we took the children to an amusement park. My niece Samantha took
Kassia's three children to go through the haunted house. When Amberlee
screamed, Griffin tried to launch himself up over a chain link fence to rush
to her rescue. 

 

I was preparing tacos for the family dinner one evening.  Amberlee put down
food for Griffin. Griffin could be a finicky eater.  He decided the taco
meat I was frying smelled better than the Science Diet in his dish.
Amberlee sat on the floor holding the pan in her lap chanting, "Open the
tunnel, here comes the train!"  She fed Griffin a piece of kibble.

Next to inter the tunnel was a kitty complete with meow.  Cows and various
other barn yard animals followed with the appropriate sound effects.  Before
long, she proudly reported, "Grandma, Griffin ate all his dinner!"  Spoiled
guide dog you say? Perhaps, it is interesting though how the small people
learn their parenting skills by example.  Amberlee was a finicky eater too.
As in most family interactions, there are more smiles than teeth grindings
in being a grandparent who is called upon to help raise their grandchildren.
This is especially true for a blind grandparent, who can't access the school
pictures and seldom gets to see grandchildren who live halfway across the
country.   

 

When Kassia graduated with her degree, she was flown to Columbia Missouri to
interview for a position at the University of Missouri. She was offered a
full benefit package which included health insurance for herself and the
children. Although the pay was slightly lower than what she was earning in
Colorado, the money for continuing education and half tuition for her
children if they wished to attend the University, made up for the
difference. The only hitch was that she would need night and weekend
childcare. They wanted her to train in anesthesiology and be on call some
nights and weekends. She asked us to come to Missouri as her backup team.
When your family needs you, you go.

 

Once we arrived, we decided that only one of us needed to be the designated
grandparent. We needed more than Kassia's salary if we were going to buy a
house, land etc. to give the children the same opportunities to have pets
and a rural childhood that we gave our own children.

 

I got hired at an independent living center as a half-time legislative
liaison and half-time independent living specialist. My previous work for
the American Council of the Blind gave me experience in working at both the
state and local level. I had hoped Griffin would be able to work for at
least six months before retiring at age ten and a half. Unfortunately, he
developed some sort of liver problem and went downhill rapidly. Six weeks
after I got hired, his liver values bottomed out. The vet said he might last
an additional couple of weeks, but death was inevitable. Even on his last
day, he wanted to work. I took him to the office with me and he tried to
lead by leash guiding even though he was weak and unsteady on his feet. I
wrote the following poem for him after he crossed the rainbow bridge. We
planted a tree over his ashes on the five acre farm we bought.  

 

Don't Look Back

 

Your strength is failing,

Your pace is slower,

You come wearily to your feet when I call.

Your glorious coat,

Hides how thin you are.

>From everyone else but me as I stroke you. 

 

Still you come to me,

Ready and willing.

Telling me you want to guide if I need you.

You try to comfort,

To end my sorrow,

Place your loving head on my knee as I cry.

 

You'd stay if you could,

But I won't ask it.

The time has come for you to go on alone.

A place waits for you 

Where there is no pain.

Where you won't have to struggle to carry on.

 

Where you can run free,

Or rest as you will.

It is time for you to go there without me.

Don't pause to look back,

Don't feel you need stay.

Just run on ahead to scout the way for me.

 

I will look for you,

When it is my turn,

Take my love and my thanks for the walk we shared.

Go now don't look back.

You're such a good boy.

I'll be okay even if I am crying.

  

Griffin taught me that we can get better results from others if we are
willing to give them credit for their accomplishments.  A thank you well
timed makes the day brighter for both the one giving the thanks and the one
receiving it. Griffin was the only one of my dogs to die in harness. He
loyally guided me until the day he died.

 

 

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