How cool is this?

Leader Dog Scout and her partner, Kim, from Wisconsin.

We had the privilege of meeting Kim tonight at the Polk Residence at Leader Dogs for the Blind. Kim is two weeks into a three and a half week stay at the facility, learning to work as a team with his first ever guide dog. Yep, that would be Scout, the puppy I raised!

Andy and I stand behind my niece Natalie, who is sitting next to LD Scout and Kim.

When strangers see me with my Future Leader Dog puppies they frequently ask, "How can you give them up?" I wish they could witness the completed circle. If they could see the difference that our special puppy will make in the life of another human being, they wouldn't even think to ask such a question.

Me and Kim, with LD Scout. This is how.

SCOUT UPDATE #4

When nine-week old Future Leader Dog Scout took it on herself to waddle over to the Iraqi veteran I was interviewing and snuggle up between his feet, I knew she was a special puppy. She was "on assignment" with me for the first time.

How did she know that was just what he needed? He smiled, and visibly relaxed as he bent over to pet her.

FLD Scout cuddles up at the feet of the veteran.

FLD Scout returned to Leader Dogs for the Blind last September to begin the advanced training necessary for her to become a working guide dog. She made it through four phases, successfully passing intermediate standards along the way.

This week I received a much-anticipated email from Leader Dogs.

Dear Puppy Raiser:

The puppy you raised has been issued to a student in the current class.  This is no guarantee of graduation however, it is another step in the training phase and hopefully if all goes along as planned we will soon be able to let you know of the puppy's graduation.

Future Leader Dog Scout is about to become LEADER DOG Scout!

The February 2013 class of blind or visually impaired persons is now training with their new partners at Leader Dogs. The dogs were issued last Tuesday. If Scout and her person are a good "match", she will go home with her new person at the end of the month. 

If Scout's partner agrees, we will be able to meet him or her (and see Scout again) next weekend.

WAY TO GO SCOUT!!!

(We are very proud of you.)

FLD Anie (on the left) hangs with her sister, FLD Scout during puppy counselor training at Leader Dogs for the Blind last summer. Congratulations are in order for Anie, and her puppy-raiser Cheri, too. Anie was issued to her person in the same class as Scout!

SCOUT UPDATE #3

Yay! Received the following email from Leader Dogs for the Blind today. Sounds like Scout is doing us proud.

The dog you raised D#13647  Scout has been in training for over 13 weeks and has completed the third of four phases of training.  The instructor working with Scout has made the following comments:
Scout is doing well at:
1. settling
2. great social behaviors
3. great personality
Scout is working on:
1. being consistent in her work
This update lets you know how Scout is doing at this point in training.  Thank you for raising Scout for our program!  Should you have further questions, please don’t hesitate to contact Puppy Development.  You will receive another update once this special dog completes training and is placed with a client.  The journey is almost complete!
Puppy Development
Leader Dogs for the Blind

Let's all keep our paws crossed for this special puppy! (And hope she gains consistency.)

FLD Scout and I cast a shadow a few days before her return to Leader Dogs for the Blind. Dogspeed Scout!

SCOUT UPDATE #2

A second email from Leader Dogs for the Blind came with news on FLD Scout...

The dog you raised D#13647 Scout has been in training for 5 weeks and has completed the first phase of training.  The instructor working with Scout has made the following comments about the puppy you raised: 

Scout is doing well at:

1.   takes treats nicely

2. being attentive to handler

3. has picked up curb work

Scout is working on:

1. vocal behavior

2. jumping on the handler when excited

3. scent distractions

4. has exhibited food possessiveness over food towards other dogs

This update lets you know how Scout is doing at this point in training.  Thank you for raising Scout  for our program!  Should you have further questions, please don’t hesitate to contact Puppy Development.  You will also receive another update during the 13^th week after Scout has completed their 12^th week of training.

Well, it's nice to hear. The things that Scout "is working on" is a bit worrisome to me, but mostly not a big surprise.

1. VOCAL BEHAVIOR

Remember my Tuesday's Training TIP: BE QUIET? FLD Scout was the noisiest puppy I ever raised. But she did come around with some "work."  Now that she's off to Leader Dogs, where her life might be more of a challenge, I'm not surprised that she's letting them know SCOUT IS HERE.

2. JUMPING WHEN EXCITED

Hmmmmm. This was a thing she started not long before she left for her formal training at Leader Dogs. We did our best to ignore this attention-getting behavior.

3. SCENT DISTRACTIONS

I don't know how many times I thought, "Scout could be a search and rescue dog" when she stuck her nose into the air to catch a scent. Sometimes I wondered if she was part bloodhound her nose was so busy!

4. FOOD POSSESSIVENESS

I didn't see this problem with Scout and food (check out my post about Labrador vultures).  But she was always quick to steal another dog's toy--except for the old girl, Gypsy. I never felt like she was aggressive about darting in to take a Nylabone away from Gus, or cc'd Rosie, just very, very fast.

Keep up the good work my little Scout. And mind your P's and Q's!

Here sits a very well-behaved FLD Scout in a one-room school house at the Ogemaw County Fair last July. Natalie and Sofia sit too.

SCOUT UPDATE

YAY!

Just received this email from Leader Dogs for the Blind:

Patti,

I hope you are enjoying our autumn weather. I would like to update you on Scout is doing here, she has passed her entry physical, her hips are both good and elbows normal. They spayed her on the 26th and she is recovering nicely from the surgery. Our volunteers have commented that she is a very nice girl, she really likes to please people. Soon she will be back to playing with the four other dogs that she was playing with before the surgery. She is still due to start her phase one training on October 8th. You should be proud of her.

Thank you for all you have done in preparing Scout for this next stage in her life.

Lynette Brink
Kennel Administrative Assistant

(Guess my post from yesterday worked!)


I took the following picture of Scout on September 3, 2012, hanging out near our garden. I thought I remembered taking a similar shot of her one year ago...

FLD Scout, maturely resting near the garden.

...but once I found it, I realized the pose was a just little different. 

FLD Scout, getting crazy near the garden in 2011.

You've come a long way, puppy!

 

No news...

FLD Scout and I pose together on the day of her return.

After leaving FLD Scout at Leader Dogs for the Blind last week I took the long way home. 

The road, somewhere between Rochester Hills and northeastern Michigan.

Well, actually, I rode my recumbent bicycle home.

Here I am, waving good-bye to my folks at the start of my 180 mile, 3-day journey.

The ride was a good way to not think about things. Now, nine days later, no word from Leader Dogs if Scout has passed her physicals.

No news is good news, I guess.

That day came

The knowledge that one day my puppy must return to Leader Dogs for the Blind parks itself in the back of my head like a migraine that teases but doesn't quite grab hold. I know it is there, it doesn't bother me (much), but it keeps me from moving too quickly.

That good-by-migraine caused me to savor every moment I had this year with FLD Scout.

Ah, to deeply inhale her sweet puppy-breath, even as I headed out to the darkness in the wee morning hours so she could pee.

To delight in her problem-solving skills (How can I get her to stop sitting in front of her computer?), even as I stooped to pick up my shoe from between her front paws, without making eye contact. and returning it to the foyer for the umpteenth time.

To hear her clacking teeth when she Lab-wrestled with Gus, even when I insisted she settle on her mat while Andy and I ate dinner.

To feel the slackness in her leash while she was "working," even though we I struggled with her propensity to dive-bomb anything that looked like food on restaurant floors.

To see her nudge a little boy who was afraid of water, even as we worked through her fear of second-graders.

To taste the bittersweet goodbye, even if what we've been striving for all along has brought us to this next step. And then the long wait for her to become a Leader Dog.

September 18, 2012.
FLD Scout is on her way...

One last tussle with cc'd Rosie, aka "Rosie Dosie." (Rosie, don't you look at me like that! I know you'll miss her, but don't give her any ideas.)

FLD Scout gives Natalie a snuggle...

...and gets a belly-rub from Sofia!

Andy gives Scout a pet in the kennel lobby at Leader Dogs for the Blind. She looks like she's wondering what all the fuss is about!

FLD Scout looks over her shoulder at me. "It's okay, I've been here before!"

During intake, Scout checks out the box of dog toys. She approaches it from all angles, trying to figure out how to reach the Nylabones inside.

Finally, she takes a leap...

...and emerges with a prized possession! We wondered, was this a problem-solving test?

All that mattered to Scout was her new toy.

Scout looks ready, yes?

Yesterday...tomorrow

Yesterday, Scout came with me on assignment for the last time. She was a big hit at the Ride for Gold, a Harley ride to benefit the Special Olympics.

FLD Scout sits while the riders get instructions. She got a bit nervous when a little boy in a big, blue motorcycle helmet ran over to pet her. I don't think she liked the giant mohawk that topped his helmet. He didn't really understand, but his mom coaxed him away and all was fine. FLD Scout was not nervous when the H.O.G.s fired up their machines and roared away.

This Special Olympian gets a nice greeting from FLD Scout.

TOMORROW, FLD Scout returns to Leader Dogs for the Blind to begin her formal guide-dog training.

*sigh*

dogspeed, Scout!

FLD Scout sends a letter

Dear Leader Dogs for the Blind,

My raiser has neglected to send you this dollar bill for many months. I think it’s about time she passed it along, especially since I’ll be coming on campus soon for my “real” education. I want to be sure that you have enough money to buy me food and other stuff like Nylabones. How much food do you think a dollar can buy?

This is what happened when my raiser and I were visiting the city. The city is not at all like where we usually live. In the city there are lots of cars and noisy trucks everywhere, it’s not very dark at night, and it sure smells different. Where are the woods?

Anyway, my raiser and her guy took me with them to one of those places that have really good stuff to smell. I really like sniffing around under the tables and licking the corners while they eat. Sometimes my raiser gives me treats if I lay nice.

If I don’t graduate, do you think I could get a job cleaning floors in restaurants?

So, after teasing me with all those smells, my raiser took me for a walk down a busy road. I didn’t know why we didn’t get back into the van with her guy. It was raining a little bit, but I didn’t mind. I guess my raiser didn’t mind either.

We passed by this scary man in a hooded sweatshirt. He had a big shovel and was scraping it on the sidewalk. I guess he didn’t like the mud that was there. I barked at him once just to let him know he should put his shovel away. Guess what? He dropped it! That worked pretty good. But my raiser made me sit while she talked with him. I forgot all about the shovel.

We crossed the busy street after my raiser made me sit down until the light changed. The rain stopped and it was foggy but we made it safely across. Is this something I’ll be practicing at school? My raiser seemed to think it was very important.

Well, we came up to this great big building and I thought we were going to go inside because my raiser took my jacket off and told me to “park.” But after I parked she put the jacket back on and instead of going inside those crazy doors that slide open, she sat down on a little bench that was by the door and made me settle in front of her. Luckily there wasn’t a puddle there.

So, this guys walks by and my raiser, she says hello to everyone! He nodded and went inside. Then he came right back out and talked to my raiser. He asked her if she was collecting donations. She said no, she was just waiting for someone. But then she must have had second thoughts because she said that she could take a donation if he wanted to give her one.

That’s where this dollar came from! That nice man gave my raiser a dollar for Leader Dogs for the Blind. I’m sure my raiser didn’t mean to keep it for herself. So here it is. I hope you can put it to good use!

Regards, your soon-to-be trainee and FUTURE LEADER DOG Scout

p.s. Here is a picture of me enjoying the country up north!

FLD Scout chews a stick while resting in the Rifle River Recreation Area.

*This letter (with a one dollar bill) is en route to Leader Dogs for the Blind. I hope it reaches them before FLD Scout does when she returns on Tuesday, September 18!

Labrador vultures

The pecking order seems to be changing around here.

At mealtime, the two black dogs squeeze their cute little butts onto a single mat against the wall. FLD Scout doesn't even need to be told. Gus waits for eye contact before he swings into a sit.

The old crabby brown dog wanders around until I insist that yes, she must sit too.

Gypsy is first to be fed. There is some respect for seniority. But lately she is slow to approach her bowl of old-dog food moistened with a bit of water. She seems to want to defer to the younger, bolder Scout.

Gus is released next. OK. He bounds to his bowl across the room like an Olympic 100-meter man and begins to scarf.

Scout crouches in anticipation, one front paw lifted slightly off the floor. When I look at her, she dips her head in preparation. I pause. She settles back.

OK. She's learned to time her landing without body-slamming the wall. Before Gus has a chance to sanitize his stainless steel bowl, Scout inhales her last morsel and twirls. In a flurry of Lab hair, her butt is back on the mat. Gus touches the mat a millisecond later.

The two know that a small encore helping is on the way. Anything to slow the gorging.

A second heat ensues.

By this time, Gypsy is sniffing her kibble, casting a wary glance at the Labrador frenzy beside her. Gus takes a sentry position behind her and Scout tip-toes in from the side. Her eyes are glued to Gypsy's bowl as if she could make the bits levitate to her mouth. It is only then that Gypsy takes a nibble.

I wonder. Is this how a just-struck critter on the side of the road feels when a kettle* of turkey vultures circle overhead waiting for a last breath?

The specter keeps Gypsy focused on eating. She chews daintily, like a proper matron.

Torturing the Labrador vultures.

*A group of turkey vultures circling overhead is called a "kettle." 

 

When you least expect it...

Scout whined.

Well, the sound she makes is not quite a whine. It's more of a muffled moan, under her breath, from deep in her throat.

This usually signals a need to "park," but lately I think she's really saying, "Come on, take me outside, I'm bored and tired of waiting around for you to finish writing!"

I wasn't yet done with my bowl of yo (as we used to call cereal when we were kids) and Andy just had the dogs out. She'd have to wait.

Scout stood at alert on the carpet just beyond the kitchen and moaned again. With a bit more emphasis.

Great. Andy's morning poop report for Scout wasn't great for the last two days, so I figured she needed to go. In a hurry.

I clipped on her leash and headed out the door. The cool morning air was refreshing and foretold of what is to come. (Yay!) I let Scout wander around up on the overgrown hill on the north side of our yard. Her nose got busy in the dry, deep grass as I gazed out across the vista of green hills and big sky.

The leash suddenly slackened as Scout jumped back, bumping my leg. She put her nose back down to the ground and inched forward. She jumped back again like something bit her. I couldn't tell what it was. She stuck her nose deep into the grass. And jumped back again.

What was that? I wondered and took a step forward, expecting a gardener snake to slither off.

Nothing.

Scout's nose went deeper, and this time I heard a rustle and caught a glimpse of movement. When she jumped back again, I kicked at the spot she was sniffing and three dark bodies went scurrying off in three different directions. Too big and dark for chippies.

Scout went berserk wanting to pursue them. I wanted to follow them too, but I couldn't let her get away with yanking me around. I backed up and tried redirecting Scout with a command.

Scout. SIT.

She sat! But strained forward, nose really working the air scent trail. I diverted my attention. Scout lunged against the leash. I anchored myself, struggling to get her back into a sit, and just caught sight of three baby rabbits as they broke free of cover and made for the woods.

I managed to get Scout back into a sit and was quick with a YES! marker when she looked at me. I dug into my pocket and was glad to find a few treats. Several treats later, Scout's focus was strong on me and we trotted back into the house. With a few glances over her shoulder.

When you least expect it...a training opportunity!

Be prepared.

The (empty) nest that Scout found.

  

What's in our northern Michigan woods?

It was a dark and stormy night....

Oh, wait. That's a quote from another famous dog.

It was a grey and gloomy morning. Mist hung mysteriously over the treetops.

FLD Scout was on assignment with me, to cover the opening of the Bigfoot Bash at the Michigan Magazine Museum in Comins.

As we entered the museum, the participants who were already gathering for the welcome speeches let us know that Bigfoot "doesn't like dogs."

Once again, Scout's dreamy brown eyes wins one over.

FLD Scout looks back at me like she's thinking, "Really? He doesn't like dogs?"

We'll see about that.

The 8th ADBC--Marchin' to Your Own Drum

This is my post for the 8th Assistance Dog Blog Carnival, hosted by Brooke over at ruled by paws. Brooke creatively selected the topic "Marchin' to Your Own Drum." I decided to take her literally. Here's a poem about my Future Leader Dog "Scout" and our wonderful morning routine.

furry twister

when the sun peaks

around my blind in the morning,

a muttered whine drifts in

from the other room, my future

leader dog puppy Scout is ready

to bring on the day

my sweetie, like a gallant knight, arises

to grant me a few moments more

in bed

he dresses,

goes into the other room and clips open her crate

Scout sits, exhibiting

some semblance of self-control

he releases her

with a snap of her collar

I hear the tingle of her tag

and a rhythmic pat-a-pat-pat of her pads

as she waggles around to my side of the bed

with a castanet clap of her teeth

her tail drums

Good Morning! against my Teak wood dresser

the beat, beat, beat travels through her feet

and spirals out her bobble-head

a dancing furry twister

she can barely get a lick in

I doubt that anyone

could carry a crabby through the day

with a wake up like this

FLD Scout, my morning wake-up call!

For  more information about the ADBC, visit Sharon Waschler's blog post About the ADBC. Spread the word, participate, read and enjoy!

Happy Birthday FLD Scout!

FLD Scout when we first brought her home from Leader Dogs for the Blind.

One year ago today, Scout was born. She was the last puppy born of a litter of six to Leader Dog "mom" Reese and "dad" Kasey. Reese was also the mom of my second Leader Dog puppy, Mike, who went on to become a working Leader Dog.

FLD Scout, sporting the same smile on her one-year birthday!

Scout had a very fun day today. We started with a romp in the woods with Gus and Gypsy, and ended with a hike on the property of some friends. Needless to say, lots of treats in between!

A romp in the woods with cc'd Gus.

But I can see...

"You will want to wear this," Bev says at check-in as she hands me a plastic credit-card sized room key on a blue lanyard. Student Room #23. The values of Leader Dogs for the Blind are printed on the back.

• Respect and compassion for people and dogs
• Passion for the work
• Safety in all we do
• Do what is right
• Innovation in our field
• Teamwork

The hallways of the Polk Residence Center at Leader Dogs for the Blind are gleaming white. Sparkling tiles beneath my feet, painted block walls with bumper-like handrails at my sides. A wide royal blue stripe above the handrails and narrow stripes on the floor in the same shade of blue guide me to the room that FLD Scout and I will share for the next three days. She is still in the kennel for now, until I get settled.

Each blue-rimmed doorway is identified with a room number at the side of the door and in a blue square above the handrail directly opposite. In Braille.
 

#23. That's my room.

Arms loaded with my duffle, Scout's supplies and bed, my camera backpack, and laptop bag, I stand on tippy-toe at the black-box sensor on the left side of the door. The key hanging at my belly changes the red light to green for entry.

The room is large, and starkly antiseptic. The same bright white walls and floors as the hallway is made even brighter by the florescent lights imbedded in the ceiling. The ceiling tiles are white too. There are no hotel-paintings screwed to the walls. I have the sense that everything was designed for the safety and efficiency of the blind or visually impaired client who usually occupies this room.

I can see the three shelves in the bathroom that have one-inch lips on them to keep things from falling off. I can see the red numbers on the digital alarm clock that speaks when touched. I can see the small screen of the TV atop the dresser at the end of the bed. I can see the special flip-up light on the end table, and another one at the desk next to the dresser. I can see the tie-down for the dog in the corner. I can see the second door opposite the entry, the door that exits to a covered "park" area.

I think of the person who travels to Leader Dogs alone, the person who can't see, who stays in this room for 26 days of learning and teambuilding. If all goes well, he or she will leave with new eyes--a Leader Dog.

The itinerary for our three-day puppy-counselor training is non-stop from breakfast at 7:30 a.m.  to an after-dinner lecture that ends at 8:00 p.m. I imagine trying to keep a schedule like this for 26 days, like the person who can't see, all while trying to bond with a young dog who is probably wondering why he is in this strange room and "who the heck are YOU?"

I imagine that those three and a half weeks could feel a little bit like boot camp. I hope that isn't so for FLD Scout and me!

FLD Scout on her bed in the corner by the tie-down.

Not a good start...

Stuck at a standstill on southbound I-75, mile marker 126, and no way to tell what was happening. The temperature gauge on the van read 86. It was only 10:18 am.

After the first hour, people started getting out of their vehicles and walking around. I thought about the evacuees in Colorado ditching everything to outrace the wildfire. Apocalyptic. That's how it was described.

When FLD Scout sat up from her spot on the passenger side floorboard, panting, I took stock. Half a bottle of cool water, another bottle in back that had been in the van for who knows how long, a handful of salty pumpkin seeds. Luckily the van wasn't overheating.

I kicked up the air-conditioner fan and poured most of the cool water into Scout's collapsible water dish. I drank down the rest. We'd be okay, I thought.

Luckily, we were. An hour later we inched along the left shoulder, the three other lanes blocked by state trooper cars, a fire engine ladder truck, and a fire rescue vehicle. A surveyor's tripod stood rooted in the middle lane blackened with tire marks that veered off past the right shoulder and into the ditch. A gaggle of tired firemen, looking weary in their full gear, caught a bit of shade beside the rescue vehicle. They must have gotten most of the mess cleared up--what was left of a crinkled mini-van lay rubber-side-up in a burned patch of ditch grass. Windowless. I think it was blue. Hard to tell with how badly scorched it was.

Not good.

An instant later we were free and 70 miles an hour flying back to the city.

I had made arrangements to drop FLD Scout off at the kennel at Leader Dogs for the Blind for a few hours while I visited my parents. I'd be back at 5:00 to check in for "Puppy Counselor" training...three days of intensive training for 48 volunteer puppy counselors. Those of us from out of town got to stay in the Polk Residence Center, just like the blind or visually impaired handlers who come here to learn how to work with their Leader Dogs each month.

When I walked FLD Scout to Bay 1 and into her designated kennel, it felt like a rehearsal for what will happen in a short two months. Scout is due to return to Leader Dogs for her formal training before September 30.

With a toss of a few morsels of chow, FLD Scout scooted into the kennel. I had her leash off and the door closed before she gobbled them up. Three other dogs in the bay barked in typical Lab hysteria. 

I didn't look back as I walked away, but I did peak through the window as the door eased shut. FLD Scout was silent. She stood, stood looking calmly at the door after me.

I hope we both do as well in September.

I will try to post updates of our time here at Leader Dogs, but I suspect my brain might be too full in the evenings. So, posts might have to come later...

Lab-wrestling break--FLD Scout (on the right) hangs with her sister, FLD Anie.

Quiet now in our room, FLD Scout snoozes on her bed brought from home.

A day of firsts, part 2

The afternoon of May 18.

FIRST ROLLER RINK

FLD Scout and I have a busy day ahead of us after the 2nd-grade field trip to the high school pool. Next stop, The Skate Place in West Branch to cover a story for the Ogemaw County Voice. This is the day that Rose City Middle School students with good grades and citizenship are rewarded with an afternoon of free skating.

The parking lot is empty except for two buses, but when I open the entrance door the noise of a crowd rolls over us. The owner of the place sits in an office behind a high counter-top window, like he's taking bets on a horse race.

FLD Scout is a good ambassador when I'm out on assignment for the Voice. She puts my interviewees at ease; after a few minutes of explaining what puppy raising for Leader Dogs for the Blind means, they are relaxed and open to my questions. Scout is no different here. Before I know it, the owner introduces me to his wife and the three of us are chatting like we're long-lost friends.

As I'm taking notes (with FLD Scout sitting calmly next to me), a young teen rolls by on one skate, his other leg kicked up trying to counter balance his imminent butt plant. Scout doesn't break her sit. At the last moment, the boy grabs a counter and saves himself. "I've crashed seven times," he says, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

Eventually I break away from the owners to interview Mr. Erickson, chaperone and science teacher. He sits near the opening to the maple-wood floor of the rink. The room is dark except for the flashes from the sparkling round strobe light hanging above the skating arena. His shirt collar glows neon white and when I glance at my notepad, it is glowing too. Everywhere, everything white is luminous. I doubt that FLD Scout even notices. Her nose is to the rainbow and black-carpeted floor.

I am pleasantly surprised that Scout is so calm with the racket of the teens surrounding us. I leave her with Erickson and two girls who fawn over her while I venture into the rink for photos. Scout never even notices I'm gone.

FLD Scout tolerates the attention of two Rose City middle-schoolers.

FIRST HORSE

Our day is not done. After The Skate Place, I have an interview with a Master Gardener for another story. FLD Scout curls up on the passenger side floor and snoozes for the short drive to her garden-ringed home not far out of town. Marlane is gracious and allows Scout to roam her house while we chat in the kitchen. She even fills a water dish. I suppose we talk too long--eventually Scout settles at my feet on the cool tile floor.

Outside, it's picture time. As we wander around raised vegetable gardens and winding flower beds, Scout notices a horse in a pen behind the barn. She strains against the leash with her nose wagging in the air. Marlane invites us to meet the brown and white dusty mare, but it takes Scout a while to realize she's not going anywhere pulling like that.

Finally we reach the fence. The mare ducks her head to get a sniff of this black dog. Scout has second thoughts and backs away. The horse does too. I hang out with Scout outside of the fence until she's comfy. Marlane enters the pen and asks us to follow.

What gets Scout over her trepidation is the horse smell on the gardener's hand. Horse and dog never get nose-to-nose, but close enough.

Marlane: Master Gardener, Master Mediator.

It's been an eventful day for FLD Scout!

A day of firsts

May 18

Another chance to expose FLD Scout to the kids in our adopted 2nd grade class. We're taking a field trip to the high school pool! No, Scout won't get a chance to swim, but it turns out it's a day of firsts for my little growing Future Leader Dog.

FIRST BUS RIDE

Scout, sit, I say at the bottom of the steep steps of the school bus. The students are all aboard. FLD Scout sits and looks up at the bus driver, who is leaning over from his seat in a welcoming stance. With no hesitation, she tiptoes up the three steps and stretches to greet the driver. Scout, leave it, I say and coax her down the aisle to an empty seat. She settles in a lump at my feet, her nose immediately busy in hard-to-reach corners.

FLD Scout, comfy on the school bus.

After a 15-minute bouncing bus ride, we arrive at the high school. Scout waves an interested nose into the aisle as the group from the back of the bus funnel past, but she stays seated until it's our turn to go. She strains to greet the driver again, and it takes a finger poke to reel her in. She sits, then takes the steps down one at a time like a pro.

The kids from the back of the bus.

FIRST HIGH SCHOOL POOL

Just being in the natatorium offers unique challenges for FLD Scout--the wet and slippery tile floor, chlorine puddles, humidity, and the echo-y quality of the cavernous room. Her demeanor is calm, but curious. She seems as bored as the kids are during the pool-rules lecture; she spreads herself out on the cool tile like a wet towel.

The pool-rule lecture.

FLD Scout, being a towel.

The swim coach breaks the students into three groups. They'll have time to "free swim" after learning safety tips at stations around the pool. FLD Scout and I are just a few feet from the "Throw, Don't Go" station, next to some parents who've come to assist. Coach has a pile of stuff you might have at a beach picnic--coolers, water-jugs, noodles, kickboards. What floats, what doesn't, and why?

A boy picks out a lunch cooler and underhands it toward a high school girl who is staged in the water as a drowning victim. FLD Scout leaps up, a limp towel no longer. She strains a little against the leash, stretching toward the pool.

"Does she want to rescue her?" one parent asks. I laugh, but insist that Scout not pull. Scout, sit. She sits, intent on the swimmer floating with her chin on the cooler.

Now a girl chooses a neon green noodle. She swings it and as the noodle launches, Scout charges forward with a booming bark. Good thing I'm ready, or we'd both be getting wet.

Hey Scout! I say with a high-pitched voice. Name recognition. What are you doing? Blah, blah, blah I go on, drawing her attention away from the action. One by one, each kid tosses one of the items to the now-shivering girl in the pool. Each time, Scout settles a bit more, until she calmly lies back down to watch.

FIRST THERAPY SESSION

At one station the kids learn about the proper fit and use of life jackets. One little boy, Jason, is eager to strap one on. When it comes time to enter the water, though, the most he will do is sit on the edge and dangle his feet. He gets braver as he moves from station to station. Soon he lowers himself at the ladder, but his feet stay planted on the steps.

"Come on, Jason," says Coach. "You can do it." Coach is encouraging, but Jason wants to do this on his own terms. I cringe when Coach reaches down to pry Jason's hands from the side of the pool. Jason cries out in alarm.

Scout, heel, I say. Jason is a special kid and he and Scout have really warmed up to each other. Maybe we can run interference.

"Scouty!" Jason cries as we approach. He wrenches free of Coach and grabs the ladder to reach her. Scout cautiously nears the edge of the pool and sniffs. I don't mind when Jason pets her. Show Scout how you can go in the water, I say. He lowers himself. Suddenly his feet float off the steps and he's buoyed in the water up to his neck. His hands still clutch the lip, and his toes quickly feel for the wall, but he's in!

FLD Scout and I run interference for Jason at pool's edge. Coach hangs his head in frustration.

Yay! Way to go Jason! I move FLD Scout a step or so further to our left. Jason slides himself along the edge to get closer. "Hi Scouty!" We do this several more times before Jason realizes he's 10 feet or so away from the ladder. He scurries back and climbs out, dripping water all over the deck when he comes to give Scout another pet. I don't interfere.

Not long after, Jason lowers himself at the ladder on the other side of the pool. A few of his classmates notice; someone yells, "Go Jason, go! Go, Jason, go!" The others start clapping and take up the cheer. Soon the chant is ricocheting around the room.

I'd like to report that at the last minute, Jason lets go of the wall and floats freely, but that will have to happen another day.

For this day, the water-shy boy proudly says to his teacher (after Coach eventually gets Jason's hands in his and holds him away from the wall), "Did you see me, Mrs. Matthews? I did it!" He turns to us, "Scouty, I did it!"

Nice job,  Scout.

ON ASSIGNMENT LATER THAT AFTERNOON,

MORE FIRSTS TO COME...