Daddy's Girl and her dog!

I have to apologize to Nin’s faithful followers.  I know that I have not been updating her blog.  Please do not misunderstand, the lack of updates does not mean that lil’ Miss Nin has not been up to her regular old shenanigans, or that she is a reformed troublemaker, nothing could be further from the truth.  She still runs into my coworker’s office and if not greeted adequately (with a treat) will do a somersault and wiggle around on her back until she slams into the wall (there are paw prints on the wall to prove it).  In the new wing at work, when we were leaving she ran full speed directly into a glass door, no need to worry, the door was fine and Nin unfazed.  She still escapes into the crowded museum for her leisurely stroll until someone brings her back.  When the world keeps spinning some things stay the same.  Something I am so grateful for.

It has been me that has been unable to sit down and write the blog, life has become difficult and complicated and I did not know how to write about the antics of a crazy dog when my mind could not stay focused.  We all go through tough times in life and that is a great equalizer of this world.  No matter how strong our  mask is, life is not easy for any of us and the journey has bumps along the way.  We all have to learn the “big” lessons, that the friends we thought we had, may not really be friends when you have nothing left to offer. People will hurt others on purpose and overall life is not always good.  People are not always human.  At my age, I should know these things and I do, but every so often life finds a way to remind me not to be so trusting.

My worry and stress started,  when I left for New York to get my Nin, my Dad came to DC to drive my mom and I.  It was then that I found out that my Dad was in kidney failure and would need a transplant.  He had been on a list, was starting dialysis and my mom nor my sister were a blood type match for him so neither could donate.   I knew I was a match, but I also knew with my Muscular Dystrophy that the doctors would never let me give a kidney.  I was scared and devastated.  I never knew anyone to go on dialysis and stay on for more than a few years before they passed.

I am your typical daddy’s little girl.  I am the youngest.  It was not always like this, we had our troubles growing up.  He spent more time with my sister because she, like he, was the athletic one and they had their sports to bond over.  But as I got older my Dad and I bonded on a more adult level.  Not to mention our love for action movies, TV programs, politics and a good debate.  Over the last few years in DC,  my Dad has been my rock, my light in the storm, reminding me that I am never alone.  It never has occurred to me throughout all these years that he might not always be there for me.

It was great joy in the Flores' household when we found out that my sister was approved to donate a kidney as part of a living donor chain.  Since she cannot donate directly to my dad, she donates to someone who donates to someone who donates all the way until there is a match to my Dad.  The chain that my Dad and sister were in was 7 people long, starting with my sister and ending with my Dad.  There was a sigh of relief when the doctors gave us the transplant date Aug. 7.
I was going to have to stay in DC for the surgeries.  I had work obligations and in San Francisco, I would only be in the way. My Mom had enough to deal with and did not need me around. As the day approached, I became more nervous about the surgery and about both my sister and dad being in the hospital.  It was these nerves that resonated with my Nin.  In her doggy sixth sense she noticed.  At first, it was the little things, she would behave a little better and be a little more attentive, constantly surveying the situation letting me know that she was there.

On the day before the transplant was to take place my Dad went to the hospital with chest pains and the transplant was called off.  The next morning he went back to the ER and ended up having open heart surgery.  My world fell apart, I was in DC and my Dad was having surgery in CA.  As soon as my sister called to tell me what had happened, Nin came to me, gently placed her head on my lap as I heard the news.  For that day she stayed with me in bed, which is not usual for Nin, she stayed still but always had a paw on me so I would know that she was there.   She even poked her head in the shower as if it was her job to check on me.

I have seen my dogs react to my behavior, I have seen them be difficult when my mood was bad, be silly when I am silly and be stubborn, well all the time, but this was different.  She was just there for me, not assuming, not demanding, not asking for food or to play but just being by my side.  We have managed to get through the rough patches together.  Each day my Dad gets a bit better and stronger and Nin becomes more and more her rambunctious doggy self.  But for a few days there, I experienced her potential, as my support and a service dog.  I am continually amazed by her each day, as she becomes more and more of a necessity in my life.  When some people look at her they see just a dog but in her I see my physical and emotional strength.

Birthday's and Anniversaries!

Nin in her Princess Birthday outfit!  (He He!) 

Last month Nin and I had our two year anniversary,  two years together and no major incidents, so far good thing!   This month she turned four, my little girl is growing up.  Help us all.  I am told that Labs calm down as they get older but she is not that hyper just a bit crazy.  Her favorite spot is the sofa and she sleeps, until she gets these burst of energy and just goes completely nuts.  I am not sure what that is all about, do they make medication for this behavior?

I think back on the last two years and what they have meant, headaches, getting slapped in the face in the middle of the night as she decided that she is going to chase the monsters on my bed.  Pillows and blankets that go missing in the middle of the night, some still have yet to be found.  I remember bringing her home and being so excited and hesitant, I remember how well she knew all of her commands and how quick she was to react to a command,  now I am convinced she is broken.  I know what you are thinking, I must have done it but really, it rains here in the DC are and I think that she has shorted a fuse!  She needs some electrical work done.  Just the other day we were at one of the metro elevators, a button that she hits almost daily and I am giving her the command, “Nin, push!”  Nothing, she did not move. “ Nin, don’t,” in my firm voice, “Push!”  She looked straight ahead as if she had never heard this command before.  I gave her a weak “Krista” correction and nothing.  We repeat this a few times.  Right before I am about to roll onto the metro rail tracks with her attached to me, she jumps up pushes both buttons (up and down) and while still up looks at me and glares.  Granted this is not helping her argument that she does not know how to hit the elevator buttons because now she has hit both of them with perfect precision, but the glare.  I was not sure if I should laugh or cry.  Clearly broken!  This is what I have to look forward to, what the next years have in store;  lots of attitude, little work and a lot of laughs.  I guess when it is all said and done it has been a good two years!  Happy Anniversary my Nin and Happy Birthday! 

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)!  

Creature Comforts!

We all seek creature comforts.  For me it is a few big squishy down pillows, a big soft bed, the best Egyptian cotton sheets, and a puffy down comforter.  Ok, go ahead call me a snob, it isn’t the first time, it won’t be the last and when it comes to my comforts it is a title that I have learned to wear proudly.  Now a dog on the other hand is suppose to be a dog.  Comfort is found in the form of whatever is convenient for them and close by when they feel the need to plop down.  Whether it be the middle of the concrete sidewalk, a stack of papers or books that you are using for work, or the middle of the kitchen floor where you are trying to cook, comfort is not as important as access, access to you, food, a quick pet or just a reminder that you are sharing space with another living being.  At least that was the case until I met the Nin. 

My first hint should have been in training when she immediately took a liking to my miniature twin bed that I was sleeping in at the dorm.  In my opinion, a twin bed is not big enough for one person let alone two, so I was not sure we would survive the training period but I knew we would be ok when we got home because my bed was bigger and she would never come up on the bed unless invited, thus the “jump” command. 

My plan at home, as with all my service dogs is that they could have a place on the  furniture if invited and if on their designated personal blanket.  There is nothing worse than having company over and having them stand up from being on the sofa and have a backside full of dog fur.  Steeler had never really felt the need to be on the sofa and Ivan only wanted to be there if I was on it so no worries, with Nin it should be no different.  Not so.  It took no more than three hours of acclimating herself to my condo before she decided it would do as her comfortable home and she jumped right up on the sofa and made herself comfortable.  Now, I mean comfortable, she pulled down the throw pillow rested her head on it and went to sleep.  As soon as I noticed this I immediately gave her the “off” command, I knew this was not a president I wanted to set for her.  The off lasted all of 10 minutes while I left the room, and she was back – right in the middle of the sofa, stretched out, head on pillow.  Not a care in the world. 

In my bedroom the battle was not too much different.  I got into bed and started getting settled and BAM as graceful as an elephant she jumps on the bed and starts making herself comfortable, on me no less.  A queen size bed and she cannot find enough room without encroaching on my space.  This pattern lasted about a week before she stopped jumping on the bed during my waking hours.  Mostly, she just waited until I fell asleep and then jumped on the bed, very kind of her.  Or she would wait until I got up and then make herself comfortable in my spot with her head on my pillow.  I still cannot break her of that.  We would battle over the bed until she figured out that she could lay on her side of the bed and still touch me.  She has to touch me, to let me know that she is there.  She does not always wait for a command and it is something that I kind of have given up on but not the sofa…the battle continues.              

Two chenille throw pillows and a ruined blanket later and we are still battling over the sofa.  I have tried everything.  “Put the bottom cushions up on the edge,” said my mom.  I came in the room to find her curled up on the base of the sofa, she had pulled one of the cushions down and had her head on that one.  “Put tin foil on the sofa, the dogs don’t like the sound or the feel of it,” said a trainer. “Okay!” I tucked in the corners and had it all the way across the base of the sofa.  It took about 30 minutes (it slowed her down) but she ripped it in half, squished it to the side and laid down on the sofa.  “Try newspaper,” said a puppy raiser.  That lasted all of five minutes as she gently grabbed it with her mouth and took it off the sofa and placed it on the floor.  “Put pillows on the sofa,” offered my mom.  She jumped up and just pushed them off and used one to rest her head.  “UGH!” 

The sofa battle continues, I keep a close eye on her and when we sleep the door is shut so she does not get the opportunity to make her bed on it.  She has taken over the sofa in my office which was for visitors so now I just choose to pick my battles with her.  Don’t ever underestimate the lengths a dog will go to seek her comfort!    

Happy Holidays!

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, except for Nin and her mouse.

The stockings were hung on the bookcase with care,

In hopes that The Nin would not get too near.

Shanae was nestled all snug in her bed,

While visions of military men danced in her head; and

I in “La La Land”, snoozing to the wave sounds app.

was just settling down for a long vacation nap.

When out in the family room there arose such a clatter,

I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the room I wheeled like a flash,

Threw open the door and rolled over the trash. 

The tree with its light shimmered so nice in the room

It gave a glow of beauty for a second it over shadowed the  "BOOM!"

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a floor full of wrapping paper and one large de-stuffed deer.

And a little Black Lab looking so cute, “Oh, that Nin!”

I knew in a moment it had happened again!

She had ripped open the gifts, each and every one.

She had chewed on the cables and ate all the gum.

Now the Wii games, the DVD's the toothbrushes, were all cracked,

The make- up, the pants and the socks now looked like they lacked.

  

The bookcase had been downed, the candy was eaten

And she looked a bit tired but clearly not beaten.

She had a big smile, her ears were all perked

And she seemed quite content like she does before going berserk.

A stocking she held firm, tight in her jaw

And it was looking like she was trying to find her next gnaw.

It took but a minute for her to notice me enter

And then dropped that old stocking and ran behind the old printer.

Then trying to sneak off into her bed

to ensure at that moment I did not kill her dead.

She closed her eyes quickly and began to fake snore,

She knew she was leaving me with a rather large chore.

My Nin, indead very frustrating, had left quite a mess

But, I knew in my heart she was just but a young pest 

With trash can close by and reacher in hand,

I tried not to think that next year her Christmas be banned.

I cleaned up all the mess, and returned the stockings back,

I folded the clothes and grabbed the boxes to be packed.

I worked mighty quickly, maybe Shanae would not wake,

I headed to my room broken presents I'd take.

Then saw Nin in her corner covered with candy and sap,

And I just knew she was getting things sticky as she continued to nap.

As I bent down slowly to pull the candy from her fur,

she let me know her contentment by giving a slight purr.

Now ready for bed, I turned out the lights, and whispered so softly,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

Happy Holidays!

Krista

&

         Nin

Night before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore adapted by Krista

It is the Most Wonderful Time of the Year/Giving Thanks!

It is the most wonderful time of the year, or so I hear.  This is the time of year where some people give thanks for the things one has, try to look back at the year at what one did and did not do and ultimately look toward the future to what we all can do better.  At this time of year, I look at my Nin and cannot believe my good fortune; not only have I been gifted with one amazing dog but three, each with his/her own skills, personalities, and unique form of companionship which cannot be matched by any other.  There is so much that went into the making of each of these dogs.  Each one has been a gift that I can never begin to repay any of the people who made the dog’s journey to me possible.

I first heard about Canine Companions for Independence (CCI) when my parents (so rudely) moved me to Santa Rosa, California the summer before my junior year of high school.  Santa Rosa is CCI’s National headquarters, so you could not go to the downtown or around the City without seeing the dogs with the trainers practicing their skills.  It was not long after our move that my family began to discuss with me about how I should get a dog, how great would that be?  Now as a teenager, anything that draws extra attention to you is not a good.  Having a disability and being a wheelchair user was bad enough and the last thing I wanted was a dog following me around EVERYWHERE.  Watching the news one night, I saw this public interest story on CCI and the segment showed a little boy with his dog and the dog was by his side at all times, he (the dog) even slept in his bed.  I kept thinking to myself that I was not going to have a dog sleeping in my bed – yuck, not to mention, how was I ever going to go on a date with a dog tagging along.  So, a service dog was an idea I put in the back of my head and forgot about, until the middle of college. 

Growing up my Dad had always said that if I got into graduate school he would pay for wherever I wanted to go (a statement he and his bank account are still regretting to this day!).  I don’t think he knew I was paying attention but when it came time for graduate school one of my requirements was that I was out of state and away from home.  Not that I went to college close to home my school was 600 miles from Mom and Dad, the furthest that I could have gone without leaving the state, which then was my also a Mom and Dad requirement, but for me it was still too close because extended family was close.    As I started looking at far away graduate schools, Mom started reminding me that if something went wrong there was not going to be family close by to help.  I would be alone and this might be a good time to look at the Service Dogs again, so reluctantly I did and I applied. 

Ivan and I

I was called by CCI the summer before I left for graduate school in Philadelphia.  In fact, I received the phone call while I was looking for a place to live in Philadelphia.  I had never been to the East Coast and was shocked at how inaccessible the world was outside of the West.  I was not sure how I was going to survive on this very old campus in this old city, so the call from CCI was actually welcome. 

My first dog was Ivan, a big beautiful Golden Retriever.  Now this dog hated me when we first met, in fact for about the first month we were together he hated me – I was not too fond of him either.  The trainer kept telling me that, unlike a lot of the other dogs I was seeing, he takes a long time to bond but when he does we will be bonded for life.  At that point, I questioned Jackie’s, our trainer, sanity and knowledge.  She was right though.  Ivan bonded and we were inseparatable.  It took about six months before he made it onto the bed but he did and I did not go anywhere without him, including dates!  He made grad school possible for me.  He was not a real social dog.  He was content being with me and that was perfect for school, a thesis, work and internships (field placements).  I had lots of hours doing counseling so he had to sit quietly under a desk and his personality was perfect for that type of work.  The trainers in all of their skills and wisdom had given me the perfect dog. 

I was heartbroken when it was time to retire Ivan, but I did it.  I remember hearing that Texas A&M had an animal cloning program and for 6.5M you could have your animal cloned.  I know I would joke about collecting money for a cloning fund for Ivan and Jan, a very wise puppy raiser said, “that means that Ivan is the only perfect dog for you and you’ll never have a chance to see if there is another.”  I had no idea what she meant when she said that to me until I met Steeler. 

Steeler was the next dog.  Steeler was/is nothing like Ivan.  Steeler is a big Black Lab, Golden Retriever cross that I was in love with from the first moment I met him.  He picked me, I did not pick him.  In class he would only work for me and no one else.  He bonded instantly and had three times the energy that Ivan had.  He liked attention but still wanted his quiet corner.  He would have never lasted through the long lectures and long nights of grad school but was perfect for my career that involved lots of traveling, in lots of new places and lots of people.  Again, an absolutely perfect dog for the place I was in my life.  Another perfect CCI match. 

Now, that brings me the Nin!  What can I say?  She has three times the energy that Steeler has and then sleeps harder than anyone human or canine I have ever met.  She is precocious, silly, extremely loving, and once again my best friend.  She came into my life when I was not traveling for work but still rushing around and she keeps up and does not miss a beat.  Before Nin, I was looking at my life and getting sad at the things that I did not have; a husband (or boyfriend), family close, the things that friends my age have.  Nin came into my life and reminded me to laugh and that is a gift and what I needed at this time of my life.  CCI somehow knew and gave her to me, she would not have been a good fit at another point in my life, but she is a good fit now. 

Steeler and Puppy Raiser Jeanne

Not only did I get these amazing dogs, that are special and talented but they also came with people, Puppy Raisers.  Puppy Raisers are amazing souls that give up their time and their heart to socialize and train the dogs when they are puppies.  I did not get to know Ivan’s puppy raisers and I missed out on his early years but I can just imagine what he was like.  Steeler came with two puppy raisers, he was co-raised by Jeanne and John and Nin was raised by Buddy.  I cannot begin to explain how special these people are to me, I consider them family and I am truly thankful that they gave me the best gift ever.  Puppy raiser do not get paid, they often times don’t even get a lot of recognition but are people that give a piece of themselves with each puppy they raise and are kind enough to hand us the leash at graduation trusting that we will care for and love that piece of their heart. 

  

Before the Puppy Raisers are Breeder Caretakers.  These are the people that take care of the breeder dogs and make sure that the puppies are born in a safe and loving environment.  They take care of the puppies during their first 8 weeks of life.  They take them to their vet appointments, start the socialization process, hold the puppies to get them acclimated to people and begin to teach them appropriate play.  Breeder caretakers lose sleep, worry, give lots of love and never complain. Remarkable people!     



  

Nin as a Puppy (look at those ears!)



After the puppy raisers there are the CCI trainers, another set of gifted souls.  These folks have patience with us students as they watch us work with the dogs that they have trained and nurtured.  They are there when we have questions, no matter how small or even when we need a shoulder to cry on about our aging dog.  They give each one of us a piece of themselves each day and are amazing. 

So it is fitting at this time of year, I remember the dogs of Christmas past, the dogs of Christmas future (my best friends) and thank all of the truly wonderful people who made it possible for me to have had Ivan and Steeler (my heart) and have my (little crazy and neurotic) Nin with me this holiday season! 

Nin's Day at the Museum!

Museums are great places to visit and a fun place to work.  It is hard to complain, except during the tourist seasons, when you are going into an office inside one of the most famous places in the world.  My office is the best of both worlds, a quiet office, in a locked suite on a public floor of a museum.  Just close enough to see what is going on in the museum each day but far enough away that I am not constantly bugged by tourist, unless I want to be.  The door to our office suite is glass and sometimes when Steeler and Nin find the energy to play, I will see the visitors peeking in the door as if Steeler and Nin are also on exhibit.  It is sometimes funny to watch visitors watch the dogs play with their toys, silly people looking through a glass door as if they have never seen a dog before.  Little did they know that the staff was looking back at them as if the visitors are the zoo animals on display – after all the dogs playing in the office is something that always happens, right?   

When Nin first started working with me the suite door needed to be “tugged” open, she quickly adapted.  The museum powers that be, had told me about a year earlier that the door would soon be automated so as I saw it, a year later we were right on track!  Opening the door from the museum side to let me in the office suite was easy for Nin, and it did not take her long to figure out how to push it open from the inside.  At first she pushed it open to let Steeler out into the museum.  Next, she realized if she pushed a little harder and was fast she could also get out the door.  I learned about this skill when I was coming into the office, from talking outside in the museum to a colleague, and found Nin missing.  I looked all over, called her name, went into ever open door and looked in every nook and cranny – No Nin!

I started going through the museum calling her name, asking everyone if they had seen a black lab walking herself through the museum (no doubt she would have her leash in her mouth, she would not want to violate any leash laws now).  I was panic stricken and feeling a bit stupid because people kept asking me, “How did she get out the door?” At that point, I really had no idea since I did not witness this Houdini act.  So, I shrugged.   Figuring that she would stay on the first floor, since I did not anticipate her using the elevator, I looked all around through the first floor exhibits.  This still consisted of a lot of real estate.  I started strategically looking to the west side and then heading to the east.  I was getting increasingly more worried and a bit frustrated, I might admit, when out of the corner of my eye I caught a glimpse of black fur.  She, of course, had found her way to Julia Child’s kitchen and had made herself at home in the corner of the exhibit, with a view of the kitchen counter and table.  She was sitting there looking longingly as if Julia herself was going to pop up and start cooking for her and if not Julia then someone should after all, it is a kitchen.  I grabbed her leash and took her away, as we walked out she kept looking back in disbelief as if to say, “No food? What is the point of a kitchen without food?”  To this day, I know that this exhibit, one of the museums cherished, is her biggest disappointment.

Nin on the Move

After that day, I kept a closer eye on her and never underestimated her power to get through a door but I did however, underestimate her need to have the typical museum experience.  It was about a week or so later and I was leaving the office.  It was after hours, the museum was quiet and normally when I left after hours I would let her follow behind me and we “run/roll fast” in the open lobby.  It was a tradition and it had been fun, a time for us to play in a huge enclosed area with a nice, slippery floor.  Most nights I would watch her run around and slid all over the floor before I would put her leash on and head out toward the metro.  But on this Friday, Nin apparently had other plans.  


As usual I opened the door, had her go first and sit while I turned off all of the lights and made sure the door locked.  This went fine.  Nin sat patiently and waited for me.  I was out the suite door and said, “Let’s go…” as I took off at full speed and she came running I headed toward the front of the building and turned around and she was running toward me, however, at the last minute she looked right and took off full speed into the east wing of the museum and kept running.  I went chasing after her calling her, trying to entice her to come back and no…she is gone, out of sight.  I knew which gallery she went into but the lights were off and it is a B I G gallery.  I had no choice but to go and hunt for her.  I head into the exhibit and I see her and watch her go under the exhibit barrier, around the animals by the locomotive and then she jumps over the barrier out of the exhibit through the Center Market and she is gone...again.  Down the ramp, over to the cabin, up the ramp on the other side, by the Woody (Station wagon) and onto the Chicago L train, out the other side and over onto “Hollywood Boulevard,” through the cars.  She has now attracted the attention of security as alarms have been set off, because she is crawling in exhibits under exhibition items, running and sniffing.  A security guard comes over and offers me a hand.  We each enter at a side of the exhibit trying to contain her in one area but at this point we cannot find her.  Then the head of security comes over the radio with the announcement, “there is a dog on Route 66”.  Off we go.  It is somewhere between Route 66 and the trolley car that I caught up to her, panting heavily and with a huge smile on her face.  She had gotten tired and just laid down in the middle of the exhibit floor (safer than Route 66).  Angry but also I can’t help but be amused; I am trying not to laugh.  I know that this is a scene that could only be written for Hollywood or a "Day in the Live of the Nin,"  I keep thinking, “what have I gotten into with this dog?”

Now that she has independently explored the entire first floor of the museum her curiosity is not as great and she does not try to run off but, I am not in any hurry to show her the stairs or teach her how to use these elevators.