therealljidol F&R Week 2 Follow Me
Topaz was her name. Her reputation was known far and wide throughout the county where I lived.
“Why is that dog dragging Nancy around like that?”
Many would ask this question. Topaz was my first guide dog. Her beauty and her free spirit made up for the fact that she was the guide dog from hell. I should have known that I would be on the ride of my life for the next several years when the first time I let Topaz off leash at my mother’s house, she proceeded to devour 3 pumpkin pies from the counter in one fell swoop…Saran wrap and all! I expected that her poop would come out shrink wrapped after that but alas, no deal. Her appetite was not sated however. Soon afterward she ate an entire bowl of spaghetti and meatballs. Did she get sick? Not a chance!
Topaz’s appetite for all things food was equal to her love of life. She loved the world. She loved to sniff the giant doggie newspaper that was the sidewalk as she was supposed to be getting me to my next destination. “Stop and smell the flowers” was her motto, except that she didn’t “stop”. She sniffed as she flew down the street, not breaking stride.
There are stories of Topaz’s escapades that live on in my small town, even to this day. One bright summer morning as we were walking, I mean sprinting, down the street; I heard a scream from a small child. “Your dog just stole my baby’s cookie!” a disgruntled mother shouted. I expressed my apology as I continued to run, sparks flying from my heels.
“Does your dog like blueberry muffins?” a young boy asked me as I passed him as he was walking to his bus stop.
“Please don’t feed my dog. She is working.” I said politely as a dutiful guide dog handler should.
“Too late, she grabbed it out of my hand. But that’s OK.” The boy said, while laughing. I shook my head and Topaz licked her lips and wagged her plume of a tail. Even after a loud “no!” and a firm tug on her leash, she smiled her canine smile and no remorse was expressed.
Topaz was the original Wal-Mart greeter, even before the idea of Wal-Mart came to rural Massachusetts. I would be at a meeting of a coalition of human service providers, discussing the serious issue of the day and Topaz would wag and try to engage everyone in play. If she was ignored she would roll around on the floor, legs kicking, and belly exposed, even with her harness on. The plight of the world was lessened as people couldn’t control their laughter. Again, I just shook my head, knowing that no amount of correction or scolding would dampen Topaz’s spirit.
Topaz and I worked together for seven years. She was my constant companion through heartbreaks and holidays. She guided me through the streets of Boston during the two years that I lived in the city. She was a source of comfort during long nights of grueling studying for my graduate degree. She was there when I met my husband, probably flirting more than I did.
It was the day of my graduation. I was to receive my Master’s degree. Topaz was ending her career as my guide. Her eyesight was failing and her hearing was diminished. I wasn’t sure if I should bring her with me to the ceremony. I had to walk up several steps to the stage where I would accept my degree. I wasn’t sure if Topaz could safely guide me. I wanted to be graceful at least once!
My name was called and I grasped the handle of Topaz’s harness.
“Do you want help?” My classmate asked.
I swallowed, shook my head and prayed that Topaz wouldn’t see a favorite person, sniff a tasty morsel and drag me to something more important to her than getting me up on to the stage.
Somehow Topaz knew the importance of the occasion. She held her head high, stepped carefully down the aisle and stopped at the steps, guiding me slowly up to the podium. She sat primly as I accepted my diploma, looked out to the audience as they applauded as if to say “Aren’t we grand?”
That day was the last day Topaz worked as a guide dog. I’ve had six working dogs since, all with unique personalities. All hold special places in my heart. But none had the free spirit that Topaz did. I couldn’t handle her today, as I need an easier dog. I know more about dog obedience, how to correct, and shape behavior. That being said, when I think back on my history as a guide dog handler, visions of Topaz come to mind and I smile.
Thank you for your kind words expressed last week. Your kindness really helped during a difficult week. I hope you enjoyed the escapades of my wonderful guide. She lives on in my heart, as well as in the hearts of those who knew her. Good luck to everyone this week!
“Why is that dog dragging Nancy around like that?”
Many would ask this question. Topaz was my first guide dog. Her beauty and her free spirit made up for the fact that she was the guide dog from hell. I should have known that I would be on the ride of my life for the next several years when the first time I let Topaz off leash at my mother’s house, she proceeded to devour 3 pumpkin pies from the counter in one fell swoop…Saran wrap and all! I expected that her poop would come out shrink wrapped after that but alas, no deal. Her appetite was not sated however. Soon afterward she ate an entire bowl of spaghetti and meatballs. Did she get sick? Not a chance!
Topaz’s appetite for all things food was equal to her love of life. She loved the world. She loved to sniff the giant doggie newspaper that was the sidewalk as she was supposed to be getting me to my next destination. “Stop and smell the flowers” was her motto, except that she didn’t “stop”. She sniffed as she flew down the street, not breaking stride.
There are stories of Topaz’s escapades that live on in my small town, even to this day. One bright summer morning as we were walking, I mean sprinting, down the street; I heard a scream from a small child. “Your dog just stole my baby’s cookie!” a disgruntled mother shouted. I expressed my apology as I continued to run, sparks flying from my heels.
“Does your dog like blueberry muffins?” a young boy asked me as I passed him as he was walking to his bus stop.
“Please don’t feed my dog. She is working.” I said politely as a dutiful guide dog handler should.
“Too late, she grabbed it out of my hand. But that’s OK.” The boy said, while laughing. I shook my head and Topaz licked her lips and wagged her plume of a tail. Even after a loud “no!” and a firm tug on her leash, she smiled her canine smile and no remorse was expressed.
Topaz was the original Wal-Mart greeter, even before the idea of Wal-Mart came to rural Massachusetts. I would be at a meeting of a coalition of human service providers, discussing the serious issue of the day and Topaz would wag and try to engage everyone in play. If she was ignored she would roll around on the floor, legs kicking, and belly exposed, even with her harness on. The plight of the world was lessened as people couldn’t control their laughter. Again, I just shook my head, knowing that no amount of correction or scolding would dampen Topaz’s spirit.
Topaz and I worked together for seven years. She was my constant companion through heartbreaks and holidays. She guided me through the streets of Boston during the two years that I lived in the city. She was a source of comfort during long nights of grueling studying for my graduate degree. She was there when I met my husband, probably flirting more than I did.
It was the day of my graduation. I was to receive my Master’s degree. Topaz was ending her career as my guide. Her eyesight was failing and her hearing was diminished. I wasn’t sure if I should bring her with me to the ceremony. I had to walk up several steps to the stage where I would accept my degree. I wasn’t sure if Topaz could safely guide me. I wanted to be graceful at least once!
My name was called and I grasped the handle of Topaz’s harness.
“Do you want help?” My classmate asked.
I swallowed, shook my head and prayed that Topaz wouldn’t see a favorite person, sniff a tasty morsel and drag me to something more important to her than getting me up on to the stage.
Somehow Topaz knew the importance of the occasion. She held her head high, stepped carefully down the aisle and stopped at the steps, guiding me slowly up to the podium. She sat primly as I accepted my diploma, looked out to the audience as they applauded as if to say “Aren’t we grand?”
That day was the last day Topaz worked as a guide dog. I’ve had six working dogs since, all with unique personalities. All hold special places in my heart. But none had the free spirit that Topaz did. I couldn’t handle her today, as I need an easier dog. I know more about dog obedience, how to correct, and shape behavior. That being said, when I think back on my history as a guide dog handler, visions of Topaz come to mind and I smile.
Thank you for your kind words expressed last week. Your kindness really helped during a difficult week. I hope you enjoyed the escapades of my wonderful guide. She lives on in my heart, as well as in the hearts of those who knew her. Good luck to everyone this week!