I was gratified to have witnessed the beginning of their love, but regretful that I had to see their pain. So many humans seem oblivious to the pain of others until they have felt it themselves. Oddly, it was even easier for me to feel their emotions when I started to go blind.
It began at their wedding; I kept seeing halos around Ashlundt and Sara. Soon, my vision became blurry. I sometimes felt like I had grains of sand in my eyes. No matter how hard I tried to wipe it away by rubbing my face on the carpet or into my bed, it wouldn’t stop. My peripheral vision, as the doctor called it, seemed to be reduced, and I started bumping into furniture and losing my balance on steps. Ashlundt noticed right away.
“Come here, boy. Let me look at you.” He placed his hands on both sides of my face and peered into my eyes. “Sara,” he called as he released my face and stood, “I don’t see anything wrong with Luke’s eyes, but something’s going on. Let’s take him to Suzi.”
The next thing I knew, Sara and Ashlundt had loaded me into the SUV, and I was off to the vet. I never loved going on that trip – no dog does – but I knew there was something that needed to be done to fix my worsening problem.
“What do you think is wrong?” Sara asked as Ashlundt took the back streets to Chatsworth.
“I don’t know, but it isn’t normal. He’s been bumping around for several weeks. I’ve been keeping an eye on him.” Ashlundt reached back to me and tweaked my left ear with his fingers. “It’s been worrying me.”
“I’ve noticed that he doesn’t seem to see well at night when I take him out before bedtime, but it just didn’t click with me that something was wrong,” Sara reached back to scratch me under my chin. “We’ve been so lucky with him. He’s not even four yet. I hope it’s nothing serious.”
Even though I didn’t relish the exam part of going to the clinic, I loved seeing the people there. The clinic was a funny round building - almost a landmark in Chatsworth. A semi-circular grassy lawn with lots of shrubs flanked the backside of it, and I had probably marked every piece of greenery on it. The building had a very sterile smell to it that made my nose twitch. But the people were warm and always had a peanut butter treat for me.
Dr. Suzi Wild was standing at the front counter when we entered. A small, slim woman with short blonde hair and dark brown eyes, she has a quiet strength about her that was very reassuring to her patients. Even though she was a good friend to my humans, she was always the utmost professional when in the clinic. She knelt down and gave me a good scratch behind my ear, then took my leash and guided me back to the exam room.
An assistant named Hector lifted me onto a metal exam table. Dr. Wild gave me a soothing massage on my head and looked into my eyes intently. “Okay, boy, I’m going to give you a complete eye exam.”
She walked over to a counter and picked up a funny-looking object and placed it on her head. “This is an ophthalmoscope, boy. It has a light and a lot of magnification so I can see what’s going on in your eyes. Hold still.”
She leaned close to me and shined the light in my eyes. Ugh! I didn’t like it and tried to move my head, but Hector had both this hands on the sides of my ears. She drew closer to me, and I could see a hole in the middle of the strange object. She finally turned off the light and removed the instrument after what seemed like forever. “Oh, Luke, I’ve got some bad news for your mom and dad.”
The tone in her voice alarmed me, but I knew she had figured out what was wrong.
After my check-up, Ashlundt, Sara and I sat together and waited for Dr. Wild’s diagnosis. I was enjoying all the extra love and attention they both heaped on me when the vet joined us.
“Ash. Sara. I have bad news, you two. We can confirm this with a veterinary ophthalmologist, but I’m fairly sure that it’s progressive retinal atrophy or PRA.”
“Oh, no.” Sara gasped and jumped up from her kneeling position next to me.
“What? What is it?” Ashlundt stood from his chair next to the exam table.
“We had other cases of it when I worked here.” Sara took Ashlundt’s hand.
“It isn’t life-threatening, but, as Sara knows, it’ll affect his vision. PRA is a genetic disease seen in Labs and a few other breeds. Basically, it’s the degeneration of the retina. It causes ongoing vision loss… and… ultimately blindness.” She stepped toward me and patted my back gently as I stood to meet her hand.
Blind. I was going blind? It made sense, but I suddenly wasn’t capable of rational thought. The fear of what I had just learned overtook my entire body, and I began to shake. What was going to happen to me?
“Blindness? Luke, blind? How can that be?” Ashlundt rubbed his forehead. “Is this treatable?”
“You didn’t do anything to cause this, Ash. The condition in nearly all breeds is inherited as a recessive trait. There’s no treatment; not even surgery. PRA is similar to retinitis pigmentosa in humans.” The vet pointed to her own eyes. “Eventually as the disease progresses, he’ll most likely develop cataracts.”
“But, I bought him from the best of breeders. I can’t imagine that George Brown would breed dogs with genetic defects.” Ashlundt’s voice was angry and disappointed.
Dr. Wild looked downward and rubbed her forehead. “I can’t address that, as I don’t really know much about Luke’s breeder. But you and Sara, you’ll need to decide if you’re prepared to have the responsibility of a blind dog.”
“Of course we are!” Ashlundt declared, pounding the metal exam table next to him for emphasis. The loud noise startled me. “I hope you aren’t suggesting that we put him down over loss of his sight?”
“No, of course not.” The vet knelt down next to me, looked into my eyes and stroked my forehead. “But blind pets; they’re a big responsibility. He will be blind and dependent upon you to teach him how to cope with it and get around.”
“Sounds like that could be tricky,” Sara chimed in as she sat down on the floor and pulled me closer. “Is that really as hard as it sounds?”
Dr. Wild smiled and took Sara’s hand in hers. “Actually, PRA dogs, they can be quite resourceful. They have an uncanny way of learning their surroundings and dealing with their blindness. Some people don’t have the patience to allow them to learn how to be blind. I didn’t think that was the case with either of you, but I just had to let you know.” The vet released Sara’s hand.
Ashlundt joined the three of us on the floor. “Don’t worry, Suzi; Luke is part of our family. We love him. We’ll help him get through this.” Ashlundt threw his arms around me and rested his head on my back. Sara reached over to me and held my front paws in a show of affection. It was comforting to know that I wasn’t being abandoned by the people I loved. Especially for some strange condition that had me feeling scared, confused and downright depressed.
********
It was Sara who first guided me through it all. Even in the midst of a full load of therapy with cancer patients, plus her continuing doctoral program at UCLA, she found the time to work with me.
My vision of the world faded away slowly. Some days I could still see shapes, objects and specs of light. Other days, when the sun was very bright, or if there was lots of light in a room, I could see fairly well – even make out people’s expressions. At other times I would only see shadows where people and things once stood. I felt both scared and angry that this was happening to me. But Sara was vigilant in preparing me for a day when the lights would go out forever. During every break that she had, she would cover my eyes with a blindfold to block out all light to help me “practice” being blind. She wore an ankle chain with bells to help me know where she was at all times. She didn’t need it. I could smell her scent of fresh cut flowers anywhere.
We started by mapping out the house, the backyard, and then later our neighborhood and the trails. On the days when she was swamped with work, she would have our neighbor Corky walk with me through my new routine of learning my environment blindfolded. Ashlundt probably would have helped if he weren’t so busy with patients.
Sara did all she could to help me get my bearings. She even got down on all fours so she could see and remove obstacles, like cactus plants with sharp needles, or other plants with pointy stalks that might harm me at my level. She taught me help words like stop, step up, step down, easy, slow, careful and danger. I surprised her when she tried out directions like right and left on me. Most dogs have difficulty understanding the concept of right and left, but I guess I was an exception. I learned it some time ago from watching the trainers with their students and horses at the equestrian center with Sara. The trainer would tell the rider to turn left and then turn right, and I would watch the direction in which the student would turn the horse. I understood and obeyed from the very minute that she directed me to turn right, then turn left. “What a smart boy you are!” Her praise was always followed by a hug and a peanut butter cookie.
Sara would let me know when she was walking out of a room, or approaching to touch me when I was sleeping or relaxed. She talked to me constantly, even with silly chatter that I enjoyed, like “Lukey, what a big brave boy!” or “You’re so good, I’m going to eat you up!” And then she would sit down on the floor, pulling me into her lap and rubbing her face into my neck like she was going to gobble me down. I loved being her good boy.
I tried to return the favor by comforting her before each of her continuing cancer checkups and scans. Even though she had been declared cancer-free, Ashlundt had insisted that she have consistent follow-up. It had become a ritual for us to sit in the bathroom, my head in her lap, while she talked out all her dread of going to the oncologist.
“Luke, I’m terrified that it’ll come back. How can I go through it again?” She would rock back and forth and wipe her eyes with toilet tissue. I would snuggle closer to comfort her, but I always knew that it hadn’t returned.
She took me with her to her appointments, and the receptionist would always protest my presence. “Hey, no dogs allowed!”
Sara was adamant. She would stare at the woman with her hands on hips. “I’m sorry that you don’t like dogs, but he’s my security blanket. I need him to be here with me.”
I would always sit in the waiting room between the comfortable, overstuffed chairs, making myself small so as not to draw attention, or cause a problem during her exams. And, I felt her relief each time she came out of the exam area with a clean bill of health. “It’s okay, boy! It’s okay. Let’s go celebrate and get you a hot dog!”
I would jump for joy at both Sara’s good news and her tasty suggestion.
Sara continued to “blind proof” the house so I wouldn’t get hurt. She removed or covered sharp edges from tables or cabinets that were eye-level with me. She tried to teach me how to carefully take stairs, especially up to Tim and Corky’s house, but I figured it out quickly. I knew them too well by memory. Sara even put carpet squares at the entrance of every doorway so I would know that I was entering a room. She bought me eye-shields for our long walks and play sessions so I wouldn’t bump into sharp twigs or low growing shrubs. She bought me scented balls and Frisbees to enhance our play sessions. This all just confirmed how unconditional her love for me had become. She was giving back to me what I had always given to her. I would have willingly given my life for her if she needed it.
Then, she gave me the ultimate gift. After dinner one night as we all lounged on the sofa in the den, Sara handed some pamphlets to Ashlundt.
“Ash, I’ve been thinking. Helping others is therapeutic.”
“Yes, I agree.” He seemed to be listening with one ear as he scanned one of his journals.
“I experienced it with my own cancer, and in providing therapy for other cancer patients.”
“Where are you going with this, love?” He put down his publication and turned his full attention to her.
“I’ve decided that Luke should become a therapy dog.”
I perked up at the mention of my name and listened intently.
“Hmmn. Why do you think so?” Ashlundt put his arm around her.
“Well, he meets all the behavioral requirements listed in the brochure. He has an outstanding temperament. He tolerates other animals well. He really loves people and children.” She became increasingly animated, pushing her once-again long hair behind her ears.
I began to beat my tail against the leather couch in agreement. This sounded like fun.
Ashlundt took one of the pamphlets and examined it. “This says he needs to be up-to-date on all his vet checkups and vaccinations, and also be over a year old. He’s okay with all of that. But I don’t have time to do it.” He pulled at her denim shirt playfully.
“Not you, silly. Me. I’d be the handler.”
“Like you have time, Sara?”
“Ash, you make time for what’s important to you.” Sara reached down and patted me gently on top of my head.
He smiled and kissed her on the check. “Sounds like a plan.” With that he immediately returned to his journal. Sara rested her head on his shoulder and watched TV with my head in her lap.
We joined Therapy Dogs International the next day. I sat with her in her office while she read about the organization out loud to me. “It says that TDI was formed in New Jersey in 1976. Wow! 21,000 dogs nationwide are registered with them. They have a big branch right here in Ventura and another in Los Angeles.”
I thumped my tail in approval.
“Says here that they provide qualified volunteer handlers and their therapy dogs for visits to hospitals and nursing homes. They provide training and testing programs.” With that she dialed their number.
********
We were asked to meet a man named Jack Champion in the Chatsworth Park at ten o’clock on a Saturday morning. There were five other dogs waiting when we arrived. One German Shepherd was so aggressive and unruly. He was barking and bearing his teeth at everyone who passed by. I knew he didn’t have a snowball’s chance to pass.
We sat on the grass and watched the others all go through the evaluation before us. It was really all about temperament and obedience. Because the Shepherd was so out of control, Jack Champion told his teenaged owner, a girl with pigtails and braces, to leave right away. It was admirable that she wanted to volunteer, but the Shepherd had no manners.
Next a Labradoodle named Neo was introduced to Champion. He shook hands and sat up for the evaluator. He was obviously a real sweetheart. His middle-aged male owner was given all the paperwork to prepare for training and testing. Two others – a female Cocker Spaniel named Miss Brown and a Dobie named Lucky tried to pick a fight with each other. They were sent packing as well. Another well-behaved yellow Lab named Simon and his female owner passed and got their papers.
Finally, it was our turn. Sara took me off leash, and I walked by her side to Mr. Champion and sat in front of him. “Hello, uh, Mrs. Jaynes. This must be … Luke. Hi, Luke!”
I immediately sat up and offered my right paw.
“Good dog,” he said as he shook my offered paw. “Does he have any bad habits? Ever bite anyone? Aggressive for any reason?”
“No, no and no.” Sara was sounding confident in my good behavior tendencies.
“Walk with him please,” Mr. Champion instructed.
We walked about fifteen feet away from him, then turned back. I paused for a moment, distracted by a bunch of crows dive-bombing a tree. I’d have to be completely blind to have missed that. After all, Labs are bird dogs.
“Luke, forward,” Sara whispered.
“Does he like meeting people? Can he tolerate loud noises? Disruptions? React compassionately to people crying?” Mr. Champion was leaning forward on his tall stool.
This time Sara responded “yes” to all questions.”
He reached down and petted me on the head. “Nice dog, Mrs. Jaynes. Your application says he has PRA, but obviously not enough to distract him from the birds. I’m impressed.” He handed Sara the necessary paperwork and an instruction manual. “Use this to get him ready for the testing. Date, time and location are on the front. Next testing is in two weeks, but there’s a testing schedule attached, and you can go to any of them in either L.A. or Ventura.”
“That’s all you need to see?” Sara seemed confused.
“This evaluation is just to see if he has the temperament to be a therapy dog. He does.” Mr. Champion smiled, picked up his stool and headed for his car, leaving us to enjoy the park for awhile longer.
********
I wasn’t in the least bit nervous the day of our test. Sara had fully prepared me. She explained that the test evaluates if a dog is sensitive and attentive to people. Obviously I had to be their guy. Lots of dogs provide love and companionship in a home, but not all of them have the temperament suited to be a therapy dog.
I sat while Sara pulled on her favorite jeans, a dressy top and a fancy black belt. A new pair of black leather boots completed her look. She brushed her hair that cascaded down her back while I grabbed my good collar and leash. We were off.
Sara drove us to a building in Ventura, an ocean-side town about forty minutes north of our home in Bell Canyon. It was located in a small, ordinary-looking warehouse that Sara said was provided by volunteers, since TDI worked on a shoe-string budget. A makeshift waiting room had been set up with uncomfortable looking folding chairs just inside the warehouse entrance. We waited our turn for the two main evaluators to work their way through testing six other dogs. Sara seemed nervous while we waited, but I knew it was gonna be a piece of cake, as she would sometimes say. That comment always made me hungry.
We sat for what Sara said was an hour. The warehouse was large and appeared to have different areas where various dogs were being run through types of tests. There was white masking tape stuck to the floor in different areas. I decided not to watch the other dogs. I was rather content to just take a nap.
“Luke and Sara Jaynes?” A male voice called out from behind a desk. This alerted me that it was our turn. A short, thin, gray-haired man in khaki pants and a white shirt with a green TDI vest approached me and gave me a friendly pet on my back. I wagged my tail, sat quietly and watched him intently.
“Hello, Mrs. Jaynes, I’m Evan Sanders with TDI. I see your dog is very friendly.” He smelled like coffee, but had a very kind voice. He then shook hands with Sara.
He escorted us over to a table with metal objects lying on top of it. From a distance, I couldn’t quite make out what they were. I wagged my tail even harder when Sara put gentle pressure on my leash. It was her signal to me that it was time to sit quietly next to her, just as we had practiced.
Mr. Sanders reached around to the table behind him and threw a bed pan on the concrete floor. It made a loud smack. I stared at the metal object curiously. It made no movement. He checked something on the clipboard that he was carrying, then said, “Very good, Luke.” He looked up and smiled at Sara. “He stays calm in surprising situations. That’s good.”
“Yes, he’s very calm,” Sara added nervously.
We moved to the next “station.” It was a small area sectioned off with pipe and drape and set up with medical equipment. Mr. Sanders instructed, “Please walk him around the wheelchair and then around the woman standing behind the walker.”
Sara moved forward, and I followed. “Okay. Luke come.” We walked around an empty wheelchair that was sitting in the center of the area. Next, we stepped around an older woman leaning on the walker. She was dressed in a light-colored sweat suit. I gave the woman a curious glance. She appeared bored.
Again, Mr. Sanders checked off something on his clipboard. “Very good. Some dogs don’t do well around medical equipment.”
“Good boy, Luke!” Sara exclaimed. She gave me an encouraging rub on the ear.
“Mrs. Jaynes, Luke’s done pretty well so far. Test Three demonstrates how well Luke will welcome being groomed and examined by others. It also verifies whether or not he will permit a stranger to touch him.” The evaluator began to brush me with his hand, then lightly examined my ears and each front foot. I enjoyed his touch. I wagged my tail and smiled at him. I was breathing heavily through a wide open-mouthed smile.
“Nicely done, Luke.” He patted me on the back, then looked up to Sara. “My examination also reveals your care and sense of responsibility for his grooming, Mrs. Jaynes.”
I was confident from my earlier bath that I was making a good showing. Actually, I smelled quite nice if I don’t say so myself. Of course, I’d much rather have bathed in gravy or a tub of melted cheese that morning. However, for the purposes of this exam, the No-More Tears shampoo sufficed.
“He gets a weekly bath, Mr. Sanders.” Sara still seemed nervous and kept pushing her hair behind her ears.
Once again, he checked off something on the clipboard. I could hear the squeak of his pen against the smooth paper.
“Okay, now take Luke for a walk the length of the room, please.”
I walked on Sara’s left side. Sara whispered “Good boy” under her breath.
“Turn left, then right and then do an about turn. Stop in between each movement and then at the end, please,” he ordered. Mr. Sander’s voice grew louder as we moved further away from him. His voice echoed off the walls of this big room.
I easily anticipated our moves and sat as soon as we stopped. I was able to see fairly well because the warehouse had really strong, bright lights. I could make out that Mr. Sanders smiled at this one.
“I’m impressed, Mrs. Jaynes. Even though I didn’t ask Luke to sit at the end, he did. That’s the sign of a highly-trained dog.”
“Thank you.” Sara smiled back at him.
“Okay, now put him on a stay, please,” Mr. Sanders requested. That was easy. It meant that I could sit or lie down but remain in place without moving. Sara did as she was asked, and I obeyed by sitting and then lying down. Nothing terribly complicated.
“Now walk away from him the entire length of the room, please.” Mr. Sanders pointed at Sara, then motioned with his hand for her to move away from me.
I did my best to follow her with my eyes. She grew fuzzier to me as she moved farther away. However, I didn’t move another muscle until she called out, “Luke, come!” That’s when I leaped up and ran quickly to the location from where her voice was emanating, again sitting when I reached Sara’s side. This was so easy. We did all this when Ashlundt and Sara took me through puppy training. It’s the sort of thing that a dog never forgets.
As I sat next to her, another handler, a friendly middle-aged woman named Jane, and her dog approached us from a distance. Jane stopped, introduced herself and shook hands with Sara. As they chatted, Jane’s large Great Dane towered over me and made me feel like a dwarf. He was quite handsome with a large head and short brindle coat. His name was Zack, and he was quite excited. However, I showed no more than a casual interest in him. If I was being tested, I didn’t want to mess it up by roughhousing with another dog. Whatever I did – or didn’t do – it seemed to work. Again, a squeaky checkmark.
“Okay, Mrs. Jaynes. Walk Luke past the food bowl over at the far side of the room.”
Food! That got my full attention. At last, a task that I could possibly enjoy. I tried my best to keep my tongue from hanging out of my mouth. As we drew nearer, I could smell the mouth-watering beefy contents of the bowl. My stomach growled. I went for it! Sara immediately jerked on my leash. “No, Luke! Leave it!” I hung my head in shame. What can I say? I thought it was mealtime.
Sara was upset with me, muttering under her breath, “Leave the food, Luke.”
We walked slowly back to Mr. Sanders. I saw him making a notation on his clipboard.
“Okay. Not so good with the food, but well done on the rest,” Mr. Sanders said aloud.
“But will he be exposed to bowls of food on the floor in a hospital, Mr. Sanders?” Sara’s agitation was obvious.
“No worries, Mrs. Jaynes. Therapy dogs don’t visit during mealtime. Very few Labs ever pass that test on the first try. We’ll do it again in a moment.”
“Oh, I see.” Sara breathed a sigh of relief.
“Mrs. Jaynes, I don’t normally do this, but I need to excuse myself for a brief restroom break. We’ve been at this for hours, and my coffee is catching up with me. Do you mind?”
“No, of course not. I’ll take Luke outside for a break. We’ll be back in five.”
We headed outside. There appeared to be not a single patch of grass anywhere near the concrete parking lot. We walked around the circumference of the building. Finally, a small patch of crab grass at the end of the pavement next to a loading dock. I lifted a hind leg to relieve myself. Sara reached for her phone and tried to call Ashlundt.
“Damn, voice mail. I wanted to let him know how great you’re doing, Luke. He’s probably with a patient.”
Mr. Sanders greeted Sara as we reentered the warehouse through a back door. “Oh, there you are! Would you let me take your dog for awhile?”
“Um. is this part of the test? I didn’t see it in the training.” Sara was apprehensive. She seemed to pull a little tighter on my leash.
“No, but we like to throw a few curve balls when a dog is this good, Mrs. Jaynes. Aside from the food temptation, he’s almost too good to be true.”
“And that’s bad because …?”
“It’s not bad. Just want to see how he’ll behave in your absence. Hypothetically speaking, let’s say you have to go to the restroom while Luke’s with a patient at a hospital. How will he react when you’re not around?”
“Oh, I see. But Luke has PRA. Eventually he’s gonna go blind. He’s coping with that, and I don’t like to leave him alone. So, I wouldn’t just abandon him in the middle of a session.”
Sanders scribbled something on his chart.
“Will that impede his acceptance into the program? I know you don’t accept deaf dogs, but what about blind dogs?” Now Sara was sounding concerned.
“Actually, I would never want you to leave Luke alone with a patient. That was part of the test.”
“Oh…I see.” Sara sighed in relief, then let out a nervous giggle. “Trick question, I guess.”
“Ms. Jaynes, you were forthcoming in your application. I think Luke will inspire patients with his blindness. No problem on the PRA.”
Whew! Other people who accepted my blindness. That was a relief, I thought to myself.
Mr. Sanders took a couple of steps toward us. “Oh, hey, let’s try the food bowl again, shall we? Walk him over to it.”
Sara tugged gently on my leash for me to follow her. I smelled the meat again and my mouth began to water. We drew closer. Sara’s tugging grew more firm. She kept whispering, “Leave it, Luke. Leave it!” I got the message. This time, I took in the aroma but didn’t rush the bowl. It took more than a little effort on my part. I clenched my teeth tightly and swallowed hard. I’m a vegetarian, I tried convincing myself for a half minute. We walked calmly past it, turned around and headed back to Sanders.
“Better. Much better,” Mr. Sander’s declared with a smile.
“Good dog, Luke.” Sara reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a Charlie Bear, one of my favorite snacks. This time, it wasn’t a food tease. She tossed it in the vicinity of my snout. I snatched it in mid-air and chomped it to smithereens.
“Good maneuvering on your part, Mrs. Jaynes.” Mr. Sanders was smiling. “He responds well to you. Let’s go out back for his final test.”
We followed Saunders through some double doors to a vacant lot behind the warehouse. Little boys in jeans, t-shirts and tennis shoes were playing baseball in a make-shift ball field. Young girls in shorts and tank tops had drawn hop-scotch on the concrete and alternated between that and jump rope. Others were just sitting quietly on blankets playing with dolls or trucks.
I wanted to run and play with them so badly that I could barely contain my wagging tail again. Sara, however, stood quietly by the metal doors. I took my cue from her and sat quietly by her side as she gestured me to do.
“I know that he would go over and start playing with them if he could, Mrs. Jaynes, and he would be a great playmate. But we can’t allow him to be physically near them. I can see by his reaction that he likes children.”
Sara didn’t respond. I think she was still worried about the food bowl incident.
Mr. Sanders patted me on the head. “Luke, Mrs. Jaynes, follow me back inside please.”
We walked back through the double doors and over to the registration table in the front of the warehouse. Sanders grabbed materials off the table and turned to Sara, “Congratulations. You and Luke will receive your credentials in a few weeks. After that, you can start your visits. I need to take both your photos for your ID cards.”
We were taken into an office through a doorway in the back of the room. First, Sara stood in front of a plain white wall and positioned her feet between a pair of black lines on the tile floor. She smiled naturally at a man holding a camera on a tripod. A flashbulb went off. I think she blinked a little, but perhaps that was me reacting to the bright popping of light. Next, Sara had me hop up on a wooden table, maybe three feet off the ground. There were a couple of white lines in the center made with masking tape. Sara helped position me between the lines, then took a step back. “Good boy, Luke. Just sit.” Another pop of light occurred. I was so out of sorts from the first flashbulb that I didn’t even see the photographer taking my picture.
Mr. Sanders must have entered the room during the photo shoot. I heard him talking to Sara from the doorway.
“Luke is exactly the kind of dog we need in this program. Here are the instructions for you to order both your TDI vests and identification cards.”
“Great. Thanks. I always wanted one of those vests.” Sara sounded happy. “And, how will we set up our hospital visits? Do I need to call you?”
“Not me,” Sanders answered. “You’ll need to call and register with the hospitals and nursing homes in your area; get schedules from them for visits. It’s all in your paperwork.”
“Well, thank you Mr. Sanders for giving us this opportunity. We’re both pretty excited to get started.”
“Thank you Sara.” Mr. Sander’s extended a hand, and Sara shook it. “And thanks for your willingness to have both of you serve. I know you’ll both do great. Just keep big Luke away from the hospital cafeteria.” He laughed as he departed. I barked in protest. I wasn’t sure what a cafeteria was, but it sure sounded like a place I’d want to visit.
On the way to the car, I got the scooties, running around in big circles with my butt tucked under me. I had been a good boy for too long. I ran around and around the parking lot. Sara laughed hysterically at my antics. “Good thing Mr. Sanders can’t see you now!”