Skyline troubadour

Troubadour Lee Fitzman picks it out.

We took FLD Henry to the first "Friday Fireside" for 2015 at the Skyline Event Center in Comins. The striking log building, run by the non-profit Economic Development Alliance of Oscoda County, is a "gathering place" for the community.

Friday Fireside is a free concert every first Friday of the month. The January entertainment was troubadour Lee Fitzman. An added bonus was the opening of an art show with the work of photographer Dave Rider, of RTL Images. (For an interesting story about Dave, click on this link: Another Sunrise.)

FLD Henry burst into the Skyline with his usual aplomb. The handful of people already inside didn't mind his exhuberance, they wanted to meet him as badly as he did them. Of course, being the good puppy raiser that I am, I redirected his attention and asked that he be ignored.

At least until he showed some self-control.

FLD Henry looks at me like he is thinking, "Okay, isn't this good enough?" 

1st day of school

Hanging out at the Rose City Elementary School on the first morning after Labor Day is a fun way to give FLD Henry some "kid" exposure. Many of the kids remember me from when I brought FLDs Scout and Dutch to their classrooms. They are happy to meet my new puppy, and gracious about asking to pet him even when I tell them, Sorry, not today!

Two students ask me to take their picture with FLD Henry. I happily oblige.

FLD Henry winks at the camera as I take a quick photo of him with a new fifth-grader.

The school changed the bus drop-off to the other end of the parking lot, so FLD Henry and I walk over to see the kids disembark. A teacher standing nearby exclaims to the students, "Oh, look! She's got a new puppy!" The kids are all very good about waving "hi" and enter the school without engaging Henry.

One of the bus drivers steps down and spots us. "Oh puppy!" she squeals as she approaches, bending over as if she is going to scoop Henry up in her arms. Henry, I say. The little guy whips his head to me. With a quick YES I mark his attentive behavior. As I reach down to give it to him I ask the woman not to pet him.

She admonishes, "I've raised 12 of them, I know what's what!" She continues to coo at Henry from a foot or so away, leaning over with her hands on her knees. If she knows "what's what" I wonder why she is still carrying on.

Henry forgets about me and gets up from his sit. I call his name again but his leash tightens as he strains to greet her. I wait. He sits back down and looks back at me. YES I say again. He gets another treat. Now he's mine again.

"He is really focused on you," the woman says. "That's very good!"

 

With the distracting bus driver gone, FLD Henry sits nicely for a photo.

Not just for puppies...

The 13th Assistance Dog Blog Carnival is being hosted this month by Brooke on her blog Ruled by Paws. The topic she chose is "Lessons."

Here is my post...

Positive training techniques. Reward the behavior you want. Ignore the behavior you don't want. Manage the behavior for which you don't have time to train.

These are things I've learned in raising five puppies for Leader Dogs for the Blind.

Sounds simple, and it is, for the most part. At least with Future Leader Dog (FLD) Dutch, the golden-retriever puppy I've been raising for the last year. He's due to return to Leader Dogs on November 11 to begin his formal guide dog training.

Training a husband is another matter.

For the six-hundredth and twenty-ninth time, or so it seemed, I picked up tiny wet bits of torn tissue from between Dutch's front paws. He looked up at me with forlorn eyes. Busted!

Lucky for him, he doesn't play keep away with what he steals from our bedroom trashcan. He just takes it into the living room, a four-legged fuzzy shredding machine.

I've puppy-proofed kitchen and bathroom trashcans by hiding them in cabinets beneath the sinks. The can in my writing room stands almost three feet tall, preventing the curious pup from sticking his snout inside.

But the bedroom trashcan? Ah, that's been a struggle to manage. No cabinet to hide it in. When I put it on my husband's dresser out of reach, it invariably finds its way back to the floor.

And I'm picking up tissue bits.

I suppose I should have bought a tall can, like the one in my office, but I never remembered to get one when I went to town.

So I tried blocking the bedroom door with a section of x-pen. Instead of stepping over it, my husband slid it out of the way. And neglected to slide it back on his way out.

And I picked up tissue bits.

I pleaded. "Please, can you keep the bedroom door blocked off?"

"Why don't we just shut the door?" he negotiated. "Great, that'll work!" I said.

And still I picked up tissue bits.

I nagged. "Shut the door behind you!!!"

Yep, more tissue bits.

As I tossed a treat to Dutch, who was lying on his mat chewing on an elk antler, it dawned on me. I was going about this the wrong way. I needed to find a way to reward my husband for shutting the door.

"Honey," I said one day when I noticed him shutting the door on his way out of the bedroom. "Come here." I planted a gigantic kiss on his handsome face.

"What was that for?" he asked.

"I'll give you a kiss every time you remember to shut the bedroom door."

Sometimes Dutch offers behaviors that have previously garnered him a treat. If I sit, will I get a treat? How about if I lie down? What about if I swing into heel position at your side, will that get me a treat? What about this? Or this?

My husband ran over to the bedroom door and quickly opened and shut it three times. He sauntered back to me with a wily grin. Yep, he got three kisses!

My strategy worked great, until my husband returned from a three-day out of town conference. He was like a nine-month old puppy that suddenly forgot everything he learned.

When I reminded him to shut the door, he replied, "Can we talk about higher value treats?"

My sweet-heart and our pups. Cc'd Gus is on his lap and our old mutt, Gypsy is next to him. FLD Dutch is at his feet. No tissue bits to be found!

Yes, he can.

Down to the wire, even after an extended deadline for submissions to the 11th Assistance Dog Blog Carnival (ADBC). This edition is being hosted by Frida Writes. If you don't have a clue what the ADBC is, visit the ADBC home page to find out, and to catch up on past carnivals.

This post is my submission for the 11th ADBC, the theme of which is Resources and Tools.

We settled at our place behind one of the long tables in the conference room at Leader Dogs for the Blind. Or rather, we tried to settle. My back and/or hip screamed at me in a knot for some unknown reason, and FLD Dutch was up to his new tricks.

I had placed his "mat" next to my chair on the right side, to give a bit of distance between Dutch and Cheri's petite Chocolate Lab puppy on my left, and asked him to settle. He slid into a down, and rested his chin on his front left paw.

For one second.

He popped up. I ignored him.

He lay back down, chin to the floor. I dropped a piece of kibble next to his snout, which he snarfed up like a great white shark.

He looked up at me. BARK! I flinched.

Quiet, I whispered. His head dropped. I waited. He looked back at me but put his head back down when a treat was not forthcoming.

I dropped a piece of kibble. SHARK ATTACK.

Pretty much it went like this for Dutch and me most of the morning--the first of three days of on-campus "Puppy Counselor Training" at Leader Dogs. It was a good thing I only fed him half of his breakfast.

I was part of a team of over 40 volunteer puppy counselors that act as liaisons between the 450 volunteer puppy raisers and Leader Dogs for the Blind. Our responsibilities are to assist the raisers in the training of their puppies and to organize monthly outings to practice specific skills.

This was our yearly training intensive to become better counselors. Deb Donnelly, the new Puppy Development Supervisor that Leader Dogs hired just over a year ago, is a Karen Pryor Academy certified clicker trainer, and she brings the same positive reinforcement techniques to her people training. Deb had asked us for specific issues that she could address during our three days. I was ready--I couldn't get Dutch to settle and suspected that my reinforcement timing was off.

After lunch another counselor, who happened to be puppy-less, offered to take Dutch. My back needed the break.

Dutch played his same tricks with her as I watched from across the room.

FLD Dutch looks up for a reward.

Here Dutch has turned around and is in his typical "settle" position--just before he vocalizes...

At last, Dutch was about to become the class demo. Deb talked to us about products to help calm anxious puppies. Thundershirts. Rescue Remedy. Lavender oils. As she spoke she nonchalantly meandered over to Dutch and lightly spritzed lavender over his back. He leapt up, snorting, and jumped away from his mat. He cautiously sniffed the mat, but backed up to the end of his leash.

Eventually, he slid down. Not on the mat.

Deb moved a chair to the center of the room and asked to take Dutch. She picked up his mat, walked him to the chair and sat down. She never said a word to him, just held his leash and placed the mat next to her chair. She continued her lecture.

Meanwhile, Dutch barked and whined and pulled and sat down, lied down, jumped up, and walked from one end of his leash to the other. Deb continued to calmly hold the other end of his leash, ignoring him, but very aware of his antics.

At one point, Dutch seemed to "give it up" and lied down on his mat. Shortly after, Deb dropped a bit of kibble near his belly, so he had to curl around to get it. He looked up at her, but she was focused on the rest of us.

He fussed. She ignored.

He lied down again. She waited. As she reached behind to her treat bag, Dutch's head whipped up in anticipation. She drew her hand away and held it open to show him there was nothing there. He dropped his head to the floor.

FLD Dutch anticipates the treat from Deb.

She waited. He sighed. Another piece of kibble dropped out of the sky between his belly and his rear legs. He shifted position. She waited and eventually rewarded in the same manner. Finally, Dutch rolled over onto his side and fell asleep.

FLD Dutch has rolled over onto his side and is gazing across the room at me. Deb is relaxed and explaining lots of great things to us.

Deb only used about four treats during the entire session. "Of course, he is very tired," she said. Without saying a word about my behavior, Deb made it obvious that a couple of things I did, and didn't do, contributed to Dutch's superstitious bark and the difficulty in adding duration to his settle.

By the end of the second day of counselor training, more than one person asked me if I had a new puppy. Dutch was a different dog, no doubt. And I was learning to wait for the reward-able moment, and to place the reward where it would encourage the behavior I wanted.

I am grateful to have Deb as a resource, not only for guiding the training of my Future Leader Dog, but also when I need help in advising the puppy raisers in my group. Thank you Deb, for all you do!

A sweet day at Surline Elementary

The second-graders in Mrs. Matthews' class thought that FLD Dutch had grown quite a bit since our last visit at the end of January. One little girl said, "It's scary!"

I can't say I disagree.

When Dutch and I attended puppy-training class at Leader Dogs for the Blind at the beginning of the year, he weighed in at 34 pounds. At class again this weekend, Dutch tipped the old-fashioned dial scale at 46.5 pounds. His growth rate is slowing down, but still...

Here is FLD Dutch at Surline Elementary on January 30. We practiced something I taught him at home--"under." The kids thought it was cute when he crawled under one of their tiny, low-to-the-ground chairs. 

And here is FLD Dutch at Surline on March 21. The kids were impressed that he remembered how to go "under" the big chair. He would have trouble getting under the tiny chairs now!

FLD Dutch and I came to Surline to accompany Mrs. Matthews' class on a field trip to the Colonial Village Bakery in downtown West Branch. It was a half-mile walk from the school.

What's that snow on the ground, you ask, on this second day of spring?  Dutch says, It's Michigan!

FLD Dutch and I paused at the curb. Keeping a good distance from the second-graders helped him keep focused on walking with a loose leash.

We piled into the small, delicious smelling bakery. I handed Dutch's leash to Lance so I could take a group photo. FLD Dutch did not cooperate.

With no customers to worry about, I secured Dutch's leash to a post by the front counter. I didn't want to take him in back with the bakery-action; I wanted to take some photos for the article I hoped to write for our local paper.

Baker Jim demonstrates rolling out dough.

I managed a few shots before I heard a resounding BARK!

FLD Dutch peers through the donut case, wondering why I left him out front.

While the class learned how to make almond danish, I went back out front to take photos of Dutch.

FLD Dutch was ready to be taken off his tether. (Can you see my reflection in the case?"

FLD Dutch holds a nice "sit" so I can take his picture.

Before we left to return to the school, the baker offered free donuts to all the kids. Unbelievably, he gave them a choice of plain or powdered sugar. What do you think all but one wanted?

Back in class, the second-graders ran to the mirror to check out their powdered sugar faces!

(And yes, I took some donuts home too...cinnamon and sugar.)

Meanwhile...

...back at the "patch," Mr. Peabody is at it again.

My sweetheart applies sopping pressure as we clean up the dribble-trail to the back door. Thank heavens for Nature's Miracle!

To be fair, FLD Dutch tried to tell me he had to "park." I just missed the cue. When I didn't go with him to the back door, he ran back to the kitchen to get me, but couldn't quite hold it on the way! He spun around and bolted back to the door. I caught a golden blur from the corner of my eye and followed his trail. Got him outside so he could finish the job, but not in time to prevent a mess.

I'm learning.

Dutch goes out every time he wakes up from a nap, no matter how short. Dutch goes out after play-time with Gus. Dutch goes out 10 minutes after drinking. I ask Dutch to "park" before he gets into the van, and after he gets out. And at least every hour when I'm out and about with him.

Sometimes his cues are subtle--a whimper, or merely standing at the x-pen gate which blocks the foyer. Other times he gives a sharp bark. The good thing is, he sleeps through the night without a problem.

The poor little guy just has a small bladder!

Ten weeks

Announcing the 10th Assistance Dog Blog Carnival (ADBC)! Sharon Wachsler, founder of the ADBC, is hosting this edition over at her blog, After Gadget. The theme this round is "Perfect 10."

The following is my submission.

Ten weeks ago a blond bundle of Golden Retriever puppy bounded into our lives and stole my heart. Future Leader Dog (FLD) "Dutch."

When strangers ask me, "How can you give them up?" I've taken to answering, If I didn't give up my last one, I wouldn't have this one!

In keeping with Sharon's "Perfect 10" theme, here are 10 "snapshots" from the last ten weeks of raising Dutch, even if they aren't "perfect."

1. Sweetie-pie

I relish that first scent of puppy-breath when he is handed over to me and I press my face to his. I know that sleepless nights are in my near future, but right now I don't care. I'm glad we live three hours from Leader Dogs for the Blind. This will be the only time I'll allow Dutch to sit on my lap in the van instead of on the floorboard of the passenger seat where he belongs.

But Dutch doesn't snuggle. He is a wiggly almost-13 pound wire-bale of fuzz. After our third rest stop on I-75 north, he conks out in my arms. An hour later, when we pull safely into our garage, my arms are dead.

FLD Dutch looks up at me as if he's wondering, "Where are we going?" We are in the van heading home after picking him up from Leader Dogs for the Blind.

2. Mr. Peabody

He can't be trusted. What goes in must come out. Even when you take him out to "park," if he's been slurping water, he'll pee again in what seems like seconds. "I just took him out!" my husband exclaims as Dutch relieves himself on the living room carpet with no warning. We think we should buy stock in Nature's Miracle. And paper towels.

Dutch rolls over on his back. Mr. Innocent.

3. Rocketman

In the beginning, I think I'll never get mister-springs-for-legs to "sit" for longer than a millisecond when it's mealtime. Morning, noon and evening, I balance his puppy-chow bowl over my head in my left hand and hold his collar with my right. Dutch, sit, I say. He does, but as soon as his bowl loses elevation his feather paws scrabble on the kitchen laminate and he's the roadrunner on ice. Up goes the bowl. Down goes his butt. I spread my right fingers to support his back in the "sit" position and set the bowl down. Left hand now free, I snap my finters to break his stare-down with the kibble. We have eye contact. Blast off at my command. OK!

Dutch sits on the mat with Gus while waiting for breakfast. Gypsy reluctantly sits too. Dutch had gained seconds on his "sit" every mealtime. After a week of feeding in his x-pen, we decide to let him eat with the big dogs. The first two days, Andy holds him while I feed Gypsy and Gus. Then it is his turn. I am amazed how quickly he figures this out. In spite of being a whirling dervish when I get the food buckets out of the clostet, Dutch wiggles his butt onto the mat with Gus and waits his turn. No more holding!

4. Dutcherino

It takes FLD Dutch about 30 minutes to settle under our table at Randy's Restaurant. We've been working on "down" so I give him the cue and he drops to the carpeted floor. He pops up and plops his snout in my lap. I reposition him so his nose is poking out from under the table and he is lying down behind my legs. He squirms around until he is facing me from the aisle. I scoot him back under the table. Our coffee hasn't even come yet.

FLD Dutch stares up at the table as if he has x-ray vision.

5. Mr. Awwwwwwwsome

I take FLD Dutch and Andy to a Christmas concert at the Rose City Middle School. Unfortunately, the concert is actually at the high school, five miles away. When we arrive right at curtain time, we see a crowd at the entrance to the auditorium. Someone fell and EMS was called; the concertgoer's bad luck delayed the performance. We weren't late after all.

With the doors blocked by the paramedics and a gurney, our only choice was to enter by the stage. As I coaxed my golden fur ball past the front row seats a harmonic "awwwww" rolled out ahead of us. The "awwwwws" resonated to the back of the room like a wave as we turned up the main aisle to find two empty seats. I doubt that anyone minded that the choir started singing late.

FLD Dutch poses next to a Christmas toy colletction box, courtesy of the Rose City Lions Club.

 

6. Dutcher

It is early evening. Dutch paces through the living room, his pads slap the kitchen floor, he slurps a bit of water and returns. He wanders into my writing room and pauses at the x-pen section that is blocking off our bedroom. He tries to slip under the footrest of the couch where Andy has the recliner raised, but he's getting too big to fit. He squeezes behind the couch and bumps against the end table as he squeezes out the other end. I take him out to "park" but once back inside he still paces. I have him do a few rounds of puppy push-ups (a series of quick sit, down, sit, down, sit, down, etc.). He paces. I sit on the floor with him to encourage a "settle" but he squirms away. I get up and move the x-pen from our bedrooom doorway. He races inside. His crate is in there. When I open the crate door, he zips in and whips around for the bit of kibble I always toss in behind him. I latch the door. He's down for the night (although I take him out for a last "park" when we head for bed).

A sweet Dutch catches some Zs in his crate.

 

7. Dutch-man

On assignment at the Ogemaw Hills Snowmobile Club's 45th Anniversary Open House, I take Dutch out back to "park." He dives into the snow with a vengeance. With a ferocious wrinkled nose, he take offense to whatever it is he senses under the snow.

FLD Dutch sniffs in the fluffy snow with a wrinkly nose, one which he usually reserves for when he is playing with our career-changed Lab, Gus.

8. Buddy

Gus is twice his size, but that doesn't stop Dutch from scrunching his snout, ducking his shoulder and barreling into the gentle black Lab. "He's a tuck and roll kind of wrestler," Andy says. Dutch is relentless. He bites at Gus's back legs. He stands up on his hind legs and grabs a mouthful of Gus's neck fur. One day I notice Dutch chewing on something black as he lay on the floor near Gus. What do you have? I ask as I walk over to take it away. Dutch looks up. He has Gus's tail between his front paws. When they wrestle, more times than not it's Gus who yips "too much" when things get rough. By evening, Gus takes refuge on the couch, where Dutch is not allowed.

Dutch and Gus take a break under Andy's desk. Light and dark, they are still best buds.

9. FLD Dutch

We arrive about 15 minutes early. FLD Dutch and I check out the cafeteria at Surline Elementary School where we'll be presenting to three of five classes of second-graders. We'll be back tomorrow to talk to the others. Dutch is happy the janitor hasn't  mopped the floors yet. We work on "leave it." I lay his mat out at the far end of the room and practice obedience while we wait. Before long the kids file in. Dutch lets rip a golden "whooooo, whooooo, whooooo." The kids giggle.

FLD Dutch holds a stay on his mat while I talk about Leader Dogs for the Blind and the important job that Dutch is being raised to do. I ask for a volunteer to demonstrate "Juno" training. When blind or visually impaired clients come to Leader Dogs, the trainers work with them for a couple of days before the dogs are issued. In "Juno" training, the Leader Dog trainers act as the dog, guiding the clients with a harness. They evaluate how the clients react if the dog misbehaves; this helps to verify the match.

Arms fly up, the kids can hardly hold their butts to the floor. I pick one little girl who seems a little shy, but still had the courage to raise her hand. I ask her to take hold of the harness handle and close her eyes. As I slowly guide her I whisper to the other kids, Now I'm going to be a BAD dog. I jerk the harness to the side. The little girl screams, but doesn't drop the handle. Dutch jumps up from his mat and bounds over to us. The kids can't contain themselves.

FLD Dutch doesn't take his eyes off of me as we pose with three classes of second-graders at Surline Elementary.

 

10. Mr. Bigfoot

FLD Dutch gains 11 pounds in one month. I'm raising a golden bigfoot! When I picked him up 10 weeks ago, he weighed 12.8 pounds. During training this past weekend at Leader Dogs for the Blind, I tried to get him to settle on their old-style scale with a gigantic dial. The wobbly pointer was difficult to read, but I'm guessing he weighed in at about 34 pounds! Do the math. He's growing at more than double the typical rate of one pound per week.

A relaxed FLD Dutch hangs out on his mat in the training room at Leader Dogs for the Blind. It is the end of our weekend seminar, and he is tired. Yay!

Ten weeks down. About 40 more weeks to go...

 

With the girls / PART FIVE

HORN LESSONS

A cacophony of drum beats and notes from French horns, trombones and guitars strain under closed doors at Andersen Music. FLD Dutch and I are here with Elaina and Sofia for their back-to-back French horn lessons. We squeeze down the long, narrow hall lined with folding chairs against the wall opposite the closed white doors of the lesson rooms. Dutch takes it all in stride; this isn't the first time he's cocked his head at the dissonance.

Still, it takes him the entire 30 minutes of Elaina's lesson to settle.

Dutch, settle, I say. He ducks his head and drops into a "down." He looks up expectantly. I hand him a piece of kibble.

FLD Dutch looks up for his treat.

He pops up, nose sniffing out a tuft of carpet pulled up at the baseboard.

Leave it. His head rockets around for his reward. Dutch, sit. Hit butt drops to the floor. Good boy, I say and he inhales another bit of food. Down. Now you settle.

He lies down. For a moment. I tuck him back into a down and stick the rough end of a Nylabone into his mouth. He grabs it with his front paws and chews like his life depended on it. For at least 15 seconds. He makes a lunge for the door at the end of the hall, but I have a good grip on his leash. He proceeds to sing, not at all in harmony with the melodies banging through the doors.

I take him outside to "park." When we return to where Sofia is staying busy playing "Angry Birds" on my iTouch, the door opens and Elaina's teacher goes ga-ga over Dutch, ramping him up all over again. Sigh.

Sofia takes her turn behind the white door. I ask Elaina to step on Dutch's leash while I take a picture. 

FLD Dutch and Elaina appear to have a stand-off.

I get one shot off and Mr. Smarty-pants gets up. He butts his head against the door and it swings open. He tries to dart inside, but Elaina's youthful reflexes save the day.

FLD Dutch busts open the door to Sofia's lesson. Good catch, Elaina!

Finally.

Dutch settles.

I have to wake him up when it's time to leave.

With the girls / PART THREE

MOVIE NIGHT - part one

Or, a missed cue.

A quick "park" and we were on our way to Family Video. Elaina, Sofia and Natalie entered ahead of FLD Dutch and me. Good thing. He and I barely made it through the door.

"I've got to see this one before you can come in!" a woman yelled and ran toward us, almost knocking over a rack of video jackets. After our confrontation in the mall the night before, I thought we were going to get thrown out.

"Oh, he's ADORABLE!" the woman exclaimed as she poured herself all over Dutch. Turned out she was the owner of the store and a dog-lover as well. Nat stood by for support as I tried to explain why it wasn't such a good idea for her to play with the now lunging and woooo-wooooing puppy. By the time I had extracted her from the ballistic ball of fur, Elaina and Sofia had "Perfect Pitch" in hand and were waiting for us by the checkout.

Wait, I said. We need to get some candy.

"We always stop by Kroger on the way home," Elaina said. "It's cheaper."

One way to keep kids from missing their mom too much is to do the exact same things with them that she does. Kroger's it is then, I said.

I didn't bother to remove Dutch's blue "Future Leader Dog" bandana; Kroger's was only a mile away. We lucked out with a parking spot right on the end, leaving us a short sprint into the grocery store.

The candy aisle was smack dab in the middle of the store, so Dutch got practice heeling through crowds of people on a shiny, scent-saturated floor. He seemed to do fine, even though he kept trying to scratch himself on three legs. I coaxed him along.

In the candy department, the four of us perused our options. A bag of baked barbeque chips, Salsa Sun Chips, Red Twizzlers. Didn't these girls like chocolate? I grabbed a giant box of Whoppers.

"Aunt patti!" Natalie screamed. "Dutch is peeing!"

I turned to witness a contrite, but relieved, puppy in a sprinter's pose, with a growing puddle beneath him. He didn't just pee a river, he peed a Great Lake! And me, caught without my cleanup bag--I thought it was just going to be a quick trip in and out of the video store. All I had was a poop bag in my back pocket.

I should have at least had my camera. I swear this little puppy can read. He "parked" almost on top of a bright yellow triangle sign that said:

CAUTION

WET FLOOR

I immediately told Natalie to find me some paper towels. She thought I meant in the store bathroom. No, get a roll off the shelf, I'll buy a roll. We were in a grocery after all. She froze. Elaina, I said, can you find me some? The 15-year-old quickly saved the day.

I used so much paper towel that when we went through the self-checkout what was left of the roll was not heavy enough to signal the computer register. I had to place the poop bag, which was now a pee bag, on the scale instead.

Never again.

Never again will I forget my camera...or ignore a cue from a just-learning puppy!

  

With the girls / PART TWO

MALL WALK

A night of no homework. Surprisingly the girls couldn't think of anything they wanted to do. Let's take Dutch over to the mall and walk around, I suggested. This would be his first trip to a mall. Shiny floors, stairs, and a second-story walkway with glass half-walls overlooking the first floor. Great exposure for the little guy.

FLD Dutch did a great job walking on a loose leash through the main part of the mall, including a short stop at a puppy-mill pet store. The designer puppies yipping behind their glass cages caught his fancy, but Dutch sat and stayed without singing. Good boy!

We were just about to the far end of the north wing when a tall young security guard chased us down. "You'll have to take that dog out of here!" he commanded. It didn't matter to him that I've had each of my last four puppies in this particular mall (with security's permission) and that my first Leader Dog puppy counselor still holds outings every other month or so here. He had all kinds of reasons why Dutch had to leave.

"Well, we're under new management now."

"He might make a mess."

"We just can't have dogs in here."

His collar was roasting!

I sighed. Okay, we'll take him out, I said. But we parked in the south lot, so we'll leave that way. I pointed back the way we had come.

"Just get him out of here," he said.

The girls were indignant. Come on, I said. We get to walk all the way back through the mall to get out.

In spite of the over-enthusiastic security guard, it was a productive outing for FLD Dutch!