THINGS I WISH SOMEONE HAD TOLD ME
Many readers of The Reflective Pen love and follow Dekker, who often responds to readers’ questions on the first week of each month.
You may be pleased to know that I am assembling some of his responses, along with additional “canine wisdom,” into a new book—Wisdom From the Floor.
It will take me a while to finish, so I thought I would give him a bit of a break this month while I catch up with all he has had to say over the last few years.
Today, I want to share the essence of the speech I gave on the day Dekker graduated after 18 months of training at NEADS in Massachusetts.
He is clearly the brighter of the two of us, as it has taken me over eight years of “learning” something new every day with him—like his latest way of communicating with another person in the household, a habit he picked up when I spent a few days in the hospital without him.
I believe he now thinks he has two people to “train.” (Give a dog an inch and he takes the leash!)
The following is that speech from over eight years ago… and I will probably add a few more reflections today.
THINGS I WISH SOMEONE HAD TOLD ME ABOUT
LIVING WITH A WORLD-CLASS SERVICE DOG
I wish I had been told of the healing power of a pair of deep brown eyes that follow me everywhere… and are intimately tied to his tail which is a better communication device than having the power of speech.
I wish someone had told me how to remain humble when walking with a world class service dog through a crowd of people where the only thing I hear behind my back is “what a gorgeous dog….look how well behaved he is….”. “I know, I know,” I whisper to myself as I turn and smile and limit myself to saying thank you.
I wish someone had told me about the omnipresence of kibble in my clothes….and in the laundry….and in crevices in the car…and in my dreams…This stuff self-replicates. I just know it!
I wish someone had told me that Dekker has great mojo for cribbage…but only if his head is in my lap at the time. His tail end doesn’t carry nearly the same influence on the cut of the cards.
I wish someone had told me that inside this quiet, well-mannered service dog is a mad whirling dervish that is released by going out in the snow…and exacerbated if he is trying out snow boots for the first time.
I wish someone had told me to stock up on replacement squeakers…they are cheaper than new toys—but only if you live with someone who can sew. A toy without a squeaker is like a radio without a speaker. Who wants to play with it?
I wish someone could tell me how to sleep soundly for 2 hours in the midst of 70 loud band instruments without even twitching…or would I have to have long floppy ears to pull that off?
I wish someone had told me how important it is to turn around three times before making important decisions.
I know I was told at NEADS to have extra towels on hand. I wish someone had told me to buy stock in bathroom linen.
I wish someone had told me about Dekker’s superpowers. It’s OK. I wouldn’t have believed them anyway. About those people I mentioned earlier who admire him behind my back? I don’t tell them either—for the same reason.
I wish someone had told me how my heart would fill with Dekker-love, but they couldn’t—because there are no words for that.
My Thoughts Today…
Looking back, that speech was less a summary and more a beginning.
What I did not know then was how much would continue to unfold in the years that followed—how many small, ordinary moments would carry their own kind of wisdom.
Today, I sit here reflecting on that momentous day and how things have changed.
I am a lot better at reading tail sign language, and I continue to find kibble crumbs everywhere! People still comment about Dekker behind my back in public places, but I have never—no, not once—heard, “Look at that dog handler…how gorgeous and well-behaved she is…!”
Somewhere across the years, Dekker has retired from active interest in our nightly cribbage game, preferring instead to snore quietly from his bed on the floor behind me. I ascribe my cribbage losses to Dekker’s absence and my wins to my brilliance alone.
I wonder if he has outgrown toys with squeakers…I suspect they are puppy things. These days, he has developed a taste for my slippers…thus training me to leave them on the bathroom counter when they are not on my feet.
When Dekker turns around three times, I now figure it must be an important ritual that either ensures a comfortable and safe resting spot or loosens his mind to rest. I have tried this before going to bed, hoping for a good night’s sleep, but the only thing that happens is I get dizzy and stumble.
I don’t think Dekker’s superpowers are a hidden secret…not to those who know him, and certainly not to the many people who read his column each month. Some things simply ‘woof!”
“Dekker-love” has spread literally around the world, filling hearts with his magic. If someone knows the secret of how that happened, do let me know. In the meantime, please receive my gratitude for going on this pilgrimage with me and one “aging” British Black Lab. (Yes, he is even teaching me how to age well!)
Keep your eyes out for Wisdom From the Floor, a continuation of his story.
And like most things Dekker teaches, it doesn’t begin at eye level.
If you don’t want to miss Dekker’s wisdom in TheReflectivePen,
be sure to tell us where to send it.
