Holding On!

Nin at the Haupt Garden

I received an email yesterday from the graduate coordinator at CCI.  Apparently, a graduate (a person like me with a service/companion dog) had his/her dog running off leash and s/he ran into the street and was hit by a car and killed.  Sad story!  All of us have had our dog outside and off leash from time to time, or dropped the leash while the dog sniffed around enjoying the grass.  This story was a bit of an eye opener for me.  Dogs live such short lives as it is but this reminds us that innocently so quickly these crazy little beasts can be taken from us. As well trained as they are, our dogs are not robots, machines, appliances (although I might question if Nin is really a garbage disposal in disguise).  They are dogs with instincts that cannot always be controlled with the command, “Don’t!”.  Just try to put a sandwich in front of Nin and tell her “LEAVE,”, you will quickly know what I mean.  You MAY be able to hold her attention for a few minutes but don’t blink or look away or that sandwich will be gone, at lightning quick speed, speed you’ve never seen before.  Nin is good too, she can return right back to where she was in her original “stay” command looking at you with those eyes that say, “I did not eat that sandwich, you must have imagined it was there.  Let’s go get your head checked!” 

Normally when walking Nin outside she walks with trepidation.  This dog has absolutely no survival skills, her idea of roughing it is when her bowl is not in its raised holder and she has to bend down all the way to the floor and eat as the bowl moves around.  She is always looking around to make sure her “person” is close, flexi lead, 6 foot lead, not really needed because that is a bit far from her person.  Now, I am far from kidding myself to think that person is me, I found out about two days after having her that it did not have to be me, any person who could access the food bowl would serve as her “person”.  She has never been all that particular about who that person is, she does have her favorites though, normally boys (we’ll get into that later).  So, after her independent adventures in the museum, her wondering days have been over.  Her biggest fear in life is that she will get caught somewhere where there is no food, water (in a bowl) and a sofa to sleep on.  So, I have never really worried about her running away or running across the street.  Now, Ivan, my first dog, he was a runner.  I could not open the door for a pizza without him taking off, full speed into the next county.  Nin, sees the pizza and is not going anywhere.  If her life is driven by comforts, food is at the top of her desire list –that’s a Lab! 

That being said, I have never thought of the outside world as a dangerous place for my Nin.  Would she really ever venture more than a few feet from me?  Then I got the email and I began to think.  What if she got a whiff of a turkey sandwich from a passing car?  I have already established that the draw for her is the food and not me.  What if it is a Mercedes or a Lexus, I make her ride the metro, would her thrive for luxury outweigh the love that she receives from me and the excitement of riding the metro each day.  Can you really replace, squishing in a metro car, while cranky people get upset because the dog is taking up valuable floor space, I mean the cursing alone is an education!  How could she give this up? But somewhere inside my brain, I fear that she might, or be tempted to jump into a nice cushy car. 

I think about Nin’s life and wonder why would she ever run?  She gets 2, not 1, meals of kibble each day (main ingredients is chicken, or something like it), she gets to sleep on a 4 foot round bed on the floor, she spends her day picking up dropped pens, pencils and keys, pushing dirty elevator buttons; the words that she hears more than anything is “don’t” and “leave,” occasionally she gets a “touch that and I will break your furry neck,” {please note, no dogs were abused in the course of service }; she has her tail pulled and her eyes poked by small children; she is stepped on in the metro; she is subjected to loud music, bad TV; and boys lots of boys.  Why would she want to leave? 

Well,  come to think of it…maybe I should hold on to her leash a little tighter at least until I finish my letter to President Obama calling for to ban all cars or moving vehicles from the streets (and sandwiches)!