The period at the end of the sentence came a week ago Sunday, when Ellen and I attended Cathy’s (guide dog #1) graduation at the Guide Dog Foundation. Any thoughts about her being released (and us getting her back) were eliminated. But in the end, it’s a very good thing.
We got there early to drop off Tiffany (guide dog #2) at the kennels. We then went up to the administration building to be reunited with Cathy, and to meet her new partner/friend/companion/love/charge, Leon.
But before we get to it, we gather as a group to be given very strict instructions as to how we are to behave at the reunion. No talking to, looking at, or touching the dog you’ve lived with for an entire year, until you’re given permission. Fat chance. I knew that wasn’t going to work. Finally we’re brought in, one family at a time, to a large room where all the graduates (human and canine) are seated and awaiting our arrival. Of course, the first thing that I do is look at Cathy, and her tail starts going a mile a minute. Aha!! She still recognizes me. I knew it. Then she starts to jump on me. I loved it, but that’s a serious no-no. We try to correct her, but then we realize that that’s Leon’s job, not ours anymore. After things settled down, momentarily, we had the chance to get to know Leon. A great guy…a high school physics for 42 years until he retired in 2002. His wife urged him to apply for a guide dog a couple of years ago. He had been together with Cathy for the preveious three weeks, training, and you could tell that he loved her and that they would be wonderful friends, partners and companions. That realization, and the fact that he had three kids, six grandchildren, a big backyard and a loving family, made it completely okay. Cathy was in for a wonderful life.
At one point in our conversation, Cathy’s lightbulb went off and she recognized Ellen. She (Cathy, that is) started making weird noises like she was trying to tell her something. The reunion was complete. On the way out we spoke to Cathy’s trainer, who, rumor had it, had gotten particularly close to her. As he started to talk about her, he said he was getting goose bumps. “She’s one in a million. She’s one of the great guide dogs,” he told us. We were blown away. We had serious doubts about her cutting it, let alone being one of the “greats”. But, obviously, what do we know?
We left not shedding a tear. Neither of us could figure out why not. We finally came to the conclusion that we were just happy for her, for Leon, for his family. No reason to cry. It’s all good. So long, Cathy. Be happy. Do greatness. We love you.
