The Library

January 15, 2008

We had our first hour working in the library! Two readers came, G, a boy around 11, very sweet --and T, a 5 year old girl with luminous clear eyes and sturdy presence. Her mom and newborn sister were there too. Mom sat on the floor with baby next to Maudie and Maudie was magical with the infant…. she floated her long nose just over the baby’s skin and ear very gently, and the baby showed nothing but delight.

People coming in and out of the library ignored us, or stopped and stared; some came over and made friends with her, smiling widely. Others, mostly immigrants with covered heads, looked at us askance…perhaps something in their cultural fiber just couldn’t place an animal in a library. She was hard to miss, large and lovely and composed, taking an interest in everything. At one point she got very interested in a man at the checkout I think she thought was M.

She did well, was friendly and calm, if a little uncertain about her role. She was very good with the kids and lay down near their chairs as they read. At one point, T jumped up to bring the book around to her face so Maudie could see the pictures and I think it startled her.

Her startle response is to turn away quickly..,.in it I see the seeds of a fear response…but she stops just short and I have always been able to turn her back with calm support. I asked T if she would like to give Maudie a treat and everything settled in a moment.

The more she does this, the easier it will be; children have not been a staple in her life yet she accepts them with a collie’s equanimity and generosity. Pretty soon, they will be friends.

Me. I am delighted by the kids and their relationship to books and words…the illustrations, the new narratives…

I wonder how it would be if we worked in a school with kids targeted as needing more reading practice…but then, who DOESN’t need, or benefit, by more reading practice?

The Bath

I spent 4 hours today grooming Maudie: dematting, untangling, combing, raking, wetting, soaping, rinsing, drying, brushing. M helped me, lifted her up onto the table, held up her tail while I cleaned, gingerly cut out the mats under her arms, took turns with me working on her pants, broke up the dry stuff stuck there, and then loosed the ropey streams of water over her while I soaped, and worked the dryer hose over her while I brushed. The whole time, she rocked back and forth on the grooming table, toying with the idea of launching herself, and pushing her bulk up against the wall where the comb couldn’t go. Miraculously, when we did finally get to the bath part, she jumped right in…last time I had to heave 60 lbs of No I Don’t Want To up into the tub.

I don’t know why I held the notion that it would be easy. Maybe I have a sentimental attachment to the idea that this is a coat for the hard weather and thistle of the Highlands. It was a massive job to get it into form. When I was done cleaning out the tools, spitting the stray hair out of my mouth, and standing back to look at her I didn’t even dare try the comb test. That’s the one in which you put a comb anywhere in the coat and pray it slides through without hitting a snag. No sir. What I don’t know today won’t get me until next week…

Winter. Her crowning glory, her mahogany sable is thick, dense with wooly undercoat that sticks together like a sweater. The mats that worked themselves into the overlooked places.…inside the thighs, under her arms, deep in her culottes, like papillon mats times 500, are either knitted or felted. The knit ones can be combed out; you hold them in your fingers between the comb and the skin so as not to hurt your dog by pulling on her fur and gently try to work the knot out, moving from the end of the hair inwards. The felted masses, the thick airless mats, have to be cut. Carefully. Nothing looks worse than lopsided chopped off pants.

At 1am she is still damp in places near the skin. And fluffy.

There is something so dog like, so large and beastly about a collie that I hadn’t checked under her tail as often as I should, at least as often as I check the paps; I will not make that mistake again. My fingers ache, my hands are dry…and I can still hear the ping of the comb teeth as they caught on a snag that would not untie.


Whereas the paps look their best in the 24 hours--make that 12--- hours after a bath, I found the corgis, and now the collie, to look best after 24 hours. I brush A LOT in those hours, to bring the oils back into the coat, but until then they have unruly fluff. I’m certain someone can tell me a secret about getting it right without waiting…and I will have to investigate because The Bath will be a monthly ritual now that we are about to start our therapy work. Certainly I will be staying more current on the affairs of the undercoat, under the tail and in all those nooks and crannies where fur goes feral…

My friend DW and I were once talking about AP Terhune’s stories. She thought it was hilarious that the collies who found their way into the wilderness through misfortune or escape always came out of the woods one day in glorious coat, burnished by the wind, clean from the snow and clear rivers, thick and full over muscles developed through hunting and senses honed by survival. I suspend disbelief for Terhune, and take the stories as mythical, metaphoric…in the wild we are made whole… But today, praising the creator of the Little Dog Without an Undercoat Who Can Be Washed in the Sink…. I saw her point.

Anyway. Yes…Our first gig is in the library for an hour, once a month in the evening as a R.E.A.D team…Starting this week, we’re in the schedule through April.
As we move towards Spring..and the challenge becomes wrestling that sweater of an undercoat off…and making bags and bags of That Which Could Be Spun on the Wheel, I’m sure the ritualization of cleaning will become easier. It was easier in the fall.

Maudie just glided into the room where I am writing, shuffling her back feet like my grandfather in his leather slippers. When she lies down I listen for the groan of pleasure that always comes from lying down. She’s tired. She had a long day. And I can get back to wondering what our first visit will be like.

Papillons

My sister is due home in Boston with her new papillon today. He has been in foster care through Pap Haven in Florida. 9 months old and from the sound of it, full of intelligence, fun and beans….
She spent last night in a grungy hotel in Gainesville with the little guy who was eager to make friends but confused and a little worried about where his foster mom was. My sister didn’t sleep at all well, as he barked whenever he heard a sound in the hallway and kept running to the door to see if it was Judy come back for him. I am so freaked out, she said to me on the phone at 1am EST…Funny, you don’t sound freaked out…I said. She sounded like she was in love…and the freaked out part was just an old habit, the expected response in such a situation. They should be home about now and I’m anxious to hear how it all unfolds…. I’m happy for them and for Maggie, her other papillon (that's Maggie's picture above) …because even if she’s got her little culottes in a twist over this teenage invader…he will give her more to think about and to do and I have no doubt that they will become friends. In my experience, papillons truly enjoy the company of other papillons and incidents are rare.
It is such an exciting time…these days when you bring a new dog into your life, full of possibility and promise. And for some, I think the anxiety and fear are just as high.
I remember the day I went to get Flynn as the first time I was singularly joyful. Utterly happy. Absolutely positive. It remains one of the great days of my life, especially paired with the day 2 weeks prior when Debbie Wood and I drove up to LaRen to see who might be available to be my first papillon. Turned out Cinnamon, the girl I had met in January and felt a special affinity for (see Aug 07) felt similarly and so became Flynn with very little to-do. She remains my familiar, my soul mate, the most enchanting creature I know.
I think in the midst of all this collie magic I have neglected to say how much papillons mean to me. If collies are, for me, the mythic Ur dogs, then papillons are the 7 dwarfs to my Snow White, little space aliens in dog suits, silky angels with tiny feet and teeth, gremlins, ancient jesters that can sing like monkeys and imitate the sound of wolves howling from very far away. Toy border collies, cats in dog bodies. I adore them and cannot imagine ever not living with them.
Right now the three of them form little sprawls scattered across the quilt. One is snoring, inviting me to come back into sleep, to curl up with them in the little dream box and sigh contentedly…just to be here with them in the world.

oh yeah...I was here LAST December!

There is something about coming full circle, landing again on this date in this season and I remember late December last year I started this project with great seriousness and here it comes again. My body remembers this date, the chair, this angel of the lampshade…the feel of nighttime and the sound of the keys. My goal was to write here every night, even if only for a few minutes. The project: The 4th Dog.

I haven’t kept up writing every night, though I still stay up quite late…crawling into bed at 2 or 3 and reading until I can’t read any longer. I am easily thrown off; my rituals are fragile. Some of them. Any change in routine can tip me over just enough to make me lose my footing and then I need to wander around until I find my footprints again. This time Maudie herself was pouring…


The other night was Solstice night at the P and J’s farm; a gathering of farm families and friends who come together around a makeshift jam of tables and folding chairs (that reminds me of Passover Seders and after Sabbath service kiddish…food food food—casseroles and cooked vegetables coming out from under tin foil, meat sliced, wine poured, the rituals of speech, deserts. The lighting of candles, the acknowledgement of the earth in space.) Everyone says what they valued most about the year and then blows out their candle until all the candles are out and the room is dark…on the longest night of the year---then the circle starts again with hopes for the next year, the candles are re-lit and we lean towards spring.

So in that spirit… I think about this last year, the journey (can I say trip instead?) that took me to Monmouth to get Maudie, the 4th dog herself, and where we are today.

First. I have this little mountain of pages that have piled up despite my distractions. On them I have not only chronicled thoughts and activities but I became a writer again. And I think maybe a better writer, my sense of economy and directness winning out over the baroque seductions of language itself as often as not. (Editing is fun. Although blogs aren’t very conducive to it…)
It remains the challenge. But I have come to treasure the adjective-less sentence…. even when I forget to build them myself. I even cut back a few metaphors that wound around the foundation of thought like kudzu---yuk yuk--- But that’s another story…thought and metaphor. I still hold that metaphor is how I know what I think.

Last year this time I was all glowy about Sonny’s first 2 CD legs—we acquit ourselves so very nicely in the ring. I didn’t think it would take a whole year to get the 3rd and final leg…but I got busy and we developed a little bit of a problem with “stay.” But neither did I think that a year later I would be all shiny again sitting across the room from where an enormous purple and gold ribbon hangs on the wall. (see HIT!!)

And Maudie. Me and Maudie. We start work next month in the library as a READ team. Reading Education assistance Dog. Less than a year it took to find each other and work to get certified to do therapy work. By both Dove Lewis and the Delta Society (well…once I send the fees in to Delta) Any day now Maudie’s special yellow DLAATE band should arrive. (The one she will wear on our outings). Wow. That and our work in Ellie’s class is going so well…we have fun together. I think the mixture of Maudie’s sensitivity and stability is a good combination for me.

And more. I didn’t know how much she would change my own life…how she would help me rebuild my physical strength. I went from barely being able to get down the street before my muscles would hurt, to being able to walk a lesuire mile in around 12 minutes. That includes 3 hills. PLUS. It was for Maudie that I got the bicycle, so I could go fast enough to help her sustain a trot, and here I am buying Gore-Tex and Merino wool so I can continue to ride through the winter and reading books about Lance Armstrong. It’s no longer about the big dog…. it’s about the bike. And the big dog.

blogroll

As a link lover...links are, after all, the way to surprise and discovery, a map for the treasure hunt, the spiral path into the core of the www....I am always on the lookout for interesting blogs to roll with. I am keen on finding more collie blogs, more writers' and artists' dog blogs, and yeah, cyclist blogs.

HIT!!!!!

Sonny and I finally finished our CD title… having one shot at one trial at the Toy Show because I taught the last class of the term on the day of the other trial, and because the all breed show this weekend isn’t offering obedience…

And we did it going High in Trial!!!!!!!!!!!! We had the highest score of any dog competing in all the obedience classes. 195 points out of 200. Sonny rocks… Rosalie Alvarez was our judge, and she was wonderful to work under. She struck me as calm, funny and genuinely invested in the sport and its participants, both new and old. I had been worried because we couldn't enter Thursday's trial under Pam Weaver, also a very good, fair, kind judge, who gave Flynnie her first leg (you need 3). And I knew nothing about Alvarez.

PLUS! I was almost ready to throw in the towel because Sonny kept leaping up from his down stay as I returned to heel position at the end of the long down…and you fail if your dog gets up before you are securely back in heel position. In the spring at both trials in Albany, he got up on his long down….and the problem seemed to be getting worse. But we worked calmly over the last 2 weeks and the little scamp did it! I beamed him sleepy vibes from across the ring, and he put his head down finally and stayed put until those blessed words Exercise finished that come after the longest 3 minutes I know of.

My fault. I didn't get him out enough to work in new places, and I think living with Maudie has made him super foot conscious. But his good genes sparkled, Ellie's (teacher and coach) wise council prevailed, I hung in there and whaddyaknow...


I feel, I don't know, validated. Some people never get a High in Trial in their whole obedience careers. After years and years of training, I feel like maybe I'm not such a slouch.

It sure helps to look down and see that sweet, eager, willing face looking back up at me.

I am so proud of him.

getting started...

Been so busy and the moments have been piling up. Sometimes it’s a little overwhelming to think about capturing them all, having the presence of mind to do them justice, holding them still long enough to remember what stirred at the center.

But winter has announced herself with her great gusts of wind, her gowns and trains of rain, her icy jewels. When winter comes I am always moved to write more; it just takes signing that document with my air pen.you know, the one you sign on the invisible contract, the one that holds you to your daily promise.

But that’s nothing to do with it, is it.

So. Maudie and I have our ID badges and our first assignment in January, which is in the Read to the Dogs program at the Capitol Hill Library. And the nursing home around the corner wants teams, so I’m waiting to catch a moment to go meet the director and look around.

It’s true. Everyone wants to work with kids and there are boxes and boxes of buildings filled with elderly people---ew, coming smack up against the need for different words: elderly people, nursing home….
who sit and wait. Puppies and kittens always get adopted first….

I feel pretty sure that Maudie herself would like to work with older people, so we’ll look for a place we can go to for them. I want to try and work both ends of the time line and we’ll see what starts to shake loose as our best fit.