"Don't you want another dog?" asked the receptionist at the pool. People express sympathy when I tell them that Suki is gone, and then ask, "When are you getting another dog?" I usually answer this question blinking back tears. In the past two weeks the initial shock and mourning over Suki's death has become bearable, but the longing for another dog beside me and the help and companionship that I need so badly is difficult to deal with. I miss Suki constantly, and I know that only another dog to love will make that pain easier.
I run through the dates in my mind; counting the weeks and days left until the middle of October when I have been promised a place in the next training course. It is still a long 12 weeks away. I remember how anxiously I waited for an invitation to the course three years ago, not yet knowing the change in my life that would come with a guide dog, not yet aware of what a beautiful dog I would receive, not yet aware of the loving relationship that I would cultivate with her and of our close partnership. I now realize that if I was anxious for a guide dog then, I am desperate for another one now. As I told Rafi, I will be happy with either Dinka or Derby. I just want a dog beside me again, because I know that will be the only thing that will get my life back on track. It seems a long time to wait. Rafi mentioned the possibility of my spending time with my new dog before the course - maybe even taking her home for a weekend and returning her to the Center. I know that even a short time would give me a lot of happiness and help get me through the difficult time until the course begins. They understand my pain and loneliness, and my longing to bond with a new dog.
My longing for Suki still runs through me like an underground current. I walk through the orchard and still talk to her, telling her I miss her, imagining her running or resting under a tree, praising her in my mind as we walk down the sidewalk along the routes we walked together.
There is a shelf in the closet filled with everything I saved: brushes, the basket with a kong, rope toy, a rubber Frisbee (Suki never got the hang of picking it up off the ground), the new tug of war toy I bought in New York, water bowls, clickers, whistle, and dog shoes. They were all Suki's and I want them for my new dog. Her bed is here, too, and I imagine myself putting them out so that they will all be in place when I bring my new dog home.
I think of both Suki and my new dog, whom I now refer to as D., since a decision has not yet been made as to which dog of the two sisters in the D litter will be mine. I will be happy to receive either one of them and will love whichever one I get.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Thoughts for Suki
Reading this blog and remembering all the good times that Suki and I had together has been a great comfort to me. I'm so thankful for all the pictures, stories, and account of our life together that I kept for nearly three years. So here's an entry for Suki, written in the past weeks, in an effort to find some comfort and ease my longing for her.
Suki, It's been four weeks since you've been gone, and the black despair that I felt at first has given way to a dull pain that is ever present inside me, occasionally bursting forth and leaving me filled with grief. I think of you constantly, what we would be doing together if you were here, and how different things would be. We were both cruelly deprived of all the wonderful years we should have had together, and I am heartbroken that what should have been a long partnership was cut short so suddenly. I am overcome with sadness at seeing places that remind me of you; the place you used to wait near the door in the morning, the carpet at my feet on the train, your spot at the side of the pool, the bench at the bus stop, or the floor at the foot of my bed where you slept at night. Sometimes I put out my hand and imagine stroking your soft fur, scratching your long silky ears, or laying my palm on your head. In my mind I call you, and when I'm walking I silently give you commands and imagine you leading me. It's so hard without you, Suki! I ran into a glass door the other day trying to get into the mall. You would have found the right way and whisked me right through it.
Wherever we went you touched so many hearts with your gentle manners, your sweet disposition, your soft dark eyes and silky white fur. Going anywhere with you was always an adventure and a joy, and I was always so proud of you. Everywhere I go people ask where you are, and I can't tell them without bursting into tears. People are so sad to hear you are gone. It's a consolation to know that I am not alone in my grief, and that there are so many people who loved you and who will remember you. That's because you were such a special dog!
I'm grateful for every day of the two years and nine months we had together, Suki. I have so many good memories – feeling your cold, wet nose nudging me awake each morning, walking with you in the orchard, playing tug of war with your rope toy, stroking your soft ears as you lay with your head in my lap in a taxi on the way home, and hearing your tail thumping happily on the floor as I gave you one last goodnight pat before going to sleep.
So here's what I need to tell you, Sookers. I can't manage without you, but I need to go on. So I'm going to get another guide dog to help me just like you did. I know you'll understand, because you'll want me to be safe and happy again. I will love my new dog, bond with her and give her a good life filled with love, affection, work, and play just like I did for you. She will love me too, just like you did, and she will comfort me and ease my pain at losing you.
But you needn't worry, Suki. There will always be a special place in my heart for you, and I will always love you just as I did when you were here with me! You see, it's like I once explained to Rotem: even when I have more grandchildren, I will still have just as much love for her because our heart keeps manufacturing more love. That's the way it will be with us, too, Suki. No matter how many guide dogs I have in the future and no matter how many years go by, I'll still feel the same unconditional love for you as I did when you were here with me.
You know that if you had lived I would have kept you with me even after you retired, just as I promised. I want you to know that I will still keep that promise. You'll be with me together with my new dog at the beach, running through the waves, lying on the sand next to me, walking through the fields, guiding me down the sidewalks. My new dog will walk beside me, and you'll be safe in that special place in my heart reserved only for you.
So I'll never say goodbye, Suki, because you'll always be with me, and you'll be in my mind often! Run along the beach or through the lush green fields, wherever you want to run, free and safe and healthy and happy, just as I remember you. I will call you to me in my thoughts, or perhaps you'll come running to me with your tail wagging as you always did. We'll play together for a fleeting moment and reminisce about the joyful time we spent together – a brief and wonderful chapter of our lives, that was filled with love and affection. You'll lick me and I'll hug you, and I'll remember what a privilege it was to be with you. And then you'll go dashing off again - until the next time we meet.
.
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Suki, It's been four weeks since you've been gone, and the black despair that I felt at first has given way to a dull pain that is ever present inside me, occasionally bursting forth and leaving me filled with grief. I think of you constantly, what we would be doing together if you were here, and how different things would be. We were both cruelly deprived of all the wonderful years we should have had together, and I am heartbroken that what should have been a long partnership was cut short so suddenly. I am overcome with sadness at seeing places that remind me of you; the place you used to wait near the door in the morning, the carpet at my feet on the train, your spot at the side of the pool, the bench at the bus stop, or the floor at the foot of my bed where you slept at night. Sometimes I put out my hand and imagine stroking your soft fur, scratching your long silky ears, or laying my palm on your head. In my mind I call you, and when I'm walking I silently give you commands and imagine you leading me. It's so hard without you, Suki! I ran into a glass door the other day trying to get into the mall. You would have found the right way and whisked me right through it.
Wherever we went you touched so many hearts with your gentle manners, your sweet disposition, your soft dark eyes and silky white fur. Going anywhere with you was always an adventure and a joy, and I was always so proud of you. Everywhere I go people ask where you are, and I can't tell them without bursting into tears. People are so sad to hear you are gone. It's a consolation to know that I am not alone in my grief, and that there are so many people who loved you and who will remember you. That's because you were such a special dog!
I'm grateful for every day of the two years and nine months we had together, Suki. I have so many good memories – feeling your cold, wet nose nudging me awake each morning, walking with you in the orchard, playing tug of war with your rope toy, stroking your soft ears as you lay with your head in my lap in a taxi on the way home, and hearing your tail thumping happily on the floor as I gave you one last goodnight pat before going to sleep.
So here's what I need to tell you, Sookers. I can't manage without you, but I need to go on. So I'm going to get another guide dog to help me just like you did. I know you'll understand, because you'll want me to be safe and happy again. I will love my new dog, bond with her and give her a good life filled with love, affection, work, and play just like I did for you. She will love me too, just like you did, and she will comfort me and ease my pain at losing you.
But you needn't worry, Suki. There will always be a special place in my heart for you, and I will always love you just as I did when you were here with me! You see, it's like I once explained to Rotem: even when I have more grandchildren, I will still have just as much love for her because our heart keeps manufacturing more love. That's the way it will be with us, too, Suki. No matter how many guide dogs I have in the future and no matter how many years go by, I'll still feel the same unconditional love for you as I did when you were here with me.
You know that if you had lived I would have kept you with me even after you retired, just as I promised. I want you to know that I will still keep that promise. You'll be with me together with my new dog at the beach, running through the waves, lying on the sand next to me, walking through the fields, guiding me down the sidewalks. My new dog will walk beside me, and you'll be safe in that special place in my heart reserved only for you.
So I'll never say goodbye, Suki, because you'll always be with me, and you'll be in my mind often! Run along the beach or through the lush green fields, wherever you want to run, free and safe and healthy and happy, just as I remember you. I will call you to me in my thoughts, or perhaps you'll come running to me with your tail wagging as you always did. We'll play together for a fleeting moment and reminisce about the joyful time we spent together – a brief and wonderful chapter of our lives, that was filled with love and affection. You'll lick me and I'll hug you, and I'll remember what a privilege it was to be with you. And then you'll go dashing off again - until the next time we meet.
.
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Fond Memories
There is no shortage of pictures and memories of Suki's and my life together. Here are a few, from one of the first to the last. The earliest photos of SUki that I have were taken by Nurit Nitzani during her puppy-raising period in December, 2008.
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| Suki in New York City |
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| One of our first hikes together |
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| Suki at one year, taken by Nurit Nitzani, her adopted family |
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| Suki and I at Beit Oved during the training course, October 2009 |
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| Suki and I at the beach, 2011 |
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| New guide dog at home, 2009 |
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| Getting some well-deserved rest |
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| Suki in her full beauty, and below, walking in the Israel parade in New York, June 3rd, 2012 |
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Goodbye, Suki
Those of you who are reading this blog probably know that Suki died yesterday, and our two and a half years together came suddenly and tragically to an end. The trauma of losing Suki so suddenly, being helpless and unable to save her, will hopefully fade in time, but memories of the time we spent together will remain with me always.
Suki was serious about her work - obeying all my commands and guiding me effortlessly through the train stations in Tel Aviv, the sidewalks of Nahariya, and even the streets of New York City. At the same time she had a spark of rebellious spirit, a joy in life and playful nature, that I first encountered on our trial walk together when she turned her head to chase after a falling leaf. Her spirit, born of intelligence and a bit of mischievousness, made Suki what she was - a dependable companion who was a joy to be with and a beautiful dog to look at.
Losing Suki was like losing a part of me - we were together for two years and nine months - a far cry from what should have been an 8-year partnership. I'm grateful for every day that I had with her, and I hope I gave her the best life I could; a mixture of hard work and play with constant love. I will always remember Suki racing through the orchard, Suki jumping into waves at the beach, playfully swinging her toy rope at me to nudge me into playing with her, Suki pulling confidently on her harness through crowded streets and train stations. No matter how many dogs I own, I will always remember her paw resting on my arm, her wet cold nose nudging me awake every morning, petting her silky ears and soft, white fur.
This is the last post written in Suki's name after we returned from New York. It marks the last days of her life when we made that memorable trip together - a triumphant conquest of new challenges and dealt with new difficulties. We were due to go to London in the future - I have no doubt that Suki would have handled it just as beautifully, and charmed everyone we met just as she did in New York.
I hope I have the strength to continue, to bond with a new guide dog, and to offer him or her the same unconditional love that I offered Suki. That dog will have a lot to live up to, and I am confident that he or she will succeed.
June 13th, 2012
There is so much to tell about our trip to New York that I don't think I could manage it all myself. I will tell you first of all that Bracha has told me that she is very proud of me and that my behavior was X-M-plary. I think that means that I was very well behaved, except for the business with the squirrels, which I'll tell you about, but anyway, here goes.
We started the trip just as any other trip we take together, but we got off at a new train station that Bracha and I had never been to before, and a nice man helped us out of the station. I was already hungry since I had not eaten all day, but I soon forgot about that in my excitement. We were at the airport, and we were flying to New York! I spent the entire plane trip sleeping next to Bracha and Pnina's feet, and by the time we got to New York I was rather light-headed from not having eaten for a day and a half. But the moment we got outside Bracha whipped out my little travel bowl and fed me. There was even a large dog run for us to relax a bit and do busy, and Lynn, Dror's dog, and I ran about and felt a lot better. Then we drove to Manhattan.
The buildings in New York are so tall that I could not see to the top, and sometimes we went up inside these buildings and I looked down into the street below, where the people looked tiny. Walking around New York is no simple task. The streets are crowded, filled with people, and very strange things happen there. Sometimes the whole sidewalk disappears and there is a scary deep hole covered by metal grates, and I had to walk around them. Other times doors open up in the middle of the sidewalk and people emerge out of nowhere, scaring the living daylights out of Lynn, Norman, (Danny's guide dog) and me. But the strangest things in New York are animals called squirrels that live in the Central Park. The first time I saw a squirrel I forgot I was in harness, forgot I was a guide dog, and completely lost it. All I wanted to do was run after them! I was just a dog! Bracha did not approve of this and gave me a good, hard leash correction and made me lie down on the pavement, but I could not settle down. When Noach heard what I had done he told Bracha in no uncertain terms that he would show me some real discipline, which he did later in the week. After that I realized that I had better shape up with the squirrel business.
Bracha and I lived at a hotel in Manhattan on the corner of 49th Street and 10th Avenue in Manhattan. Now, on the corner of 11th Avenue and 51st street there is a wonderful dog park! Bracha and I soon learned the way there, and every morning she would take me to the park and brush me. I could then run and play before beginning the hard day's work of guiding in New York City. I soon made some local friends: Kayla, a golden retriever like me, Brillo, and the two Yorkshire terriers Dot and Bert. And best of all, there was a pool in the park for dogs to swim in! So there was something in New York for me, too.
Bracha also bought me lots of presents at the pet store: a tug of war toy, a leather bone (I admit, I snitched it off the bottom shelf and Bracha had to buy it!), and a little red purse for me to wear to hold Bracha's keys and a roll of strawberry-scented plastic bags for, er, cleaning up. I was so happy and proud that I wore it everywhere we went. I even chose a present for my friend Petel - a purple donut chew toy!
People in New York were very kind to us, and no one ever told us we had to get out of a store or restaurant, and were always eager to help Bracha choose her breakfast from the buffet or get in the elevator. In New York people call me a service dog, and I am allowed everywhere. I was even allowed into the chocolate store, but Bracha soon took me out again because there were pieces of chocolate on the floor, and she didn't want me eating any!
There are a few things about New York that I cannot figure out: What did Bracha and I do to make the thousands of people cheer and clap when we walked down 5th Avenue in the parade? Were all those thousands of people there cheering and waving Israeli flags for us guide dogs from Israel? Why was the man in Central Park walking on stilts? Why do the trains in New York run underground instead of on tracks outside? And why are people in New York City always in such a hurry? I guess they are all trying to get to the tops of all those high buildings where they live and work. And where oh where are dogs supposed to do busy in New York when all the trees grow out of concrete and there is no soft green grass??
It was hard work guiding Bracha and lying quietly while Noach and Bracha talked to very important people, and I can definitely do without another 12-hour plane ride with nothing to eat but ice cubes. But, yes, I'd do it again. And it looks like I'll have to. They want us to go to London in November. I wonder if there are squirrels there, too…
Suki was serious about her work - obeying all my commands and guiding me effortlessly through the train stations in Tel Aviv, the sidewalks of Nahariya, and even the streets of New York City. At the same time she had a spark of rebellious spirit, a joy in life and playful nature, that I first encountered on our trial walk together when she turned her head to chase after a falling leaf. Her spirit, born of intelligence and a bit of mischievousness, made Suki what she was - a dependable companion who was a joy to be with and a beautiful dog to look at.
Losing Suki was like losing a part of me - we were together for two years and nine months - a far cry from what should have been an 8-year partnership. I'm grateful for every day that I had with her, and I hope I gave her the best life I could; a mixture of hard work and play with constant love. I will always remember Suki racing through the orchard, Suki jumping into waves at the beach, playfully swinging her toy rope at me to nudge me into playing with her, Suki pulling confidently on her harness through crowded streets and train stations. No matter how many dogs I own, I will always remember her paw resting on my arm, her wet cold nose nudging me awake every morning, petting her silky ears and soft, white fur.
This is the last post written in Suki's name after we returned from New York. It marks the last days of her life when we made that memorable trip together - a triumphant conquest of new challenges and dealt with new difficulties. We were due to go to London in the future - I have no doubt that Suki would have handled it just as beautifully, and charmed everyone we met just as she did in New York.
I hope I have the strength to continue, to bond with a new guide dog, and to offer him or her the same unconditional love that I offered Suki. That dog will have a lot to live up to, and I am confident that he or she will succeed.
June 13th, 2012
There is so much to tell about our trip to New York that I don't think I could manage it all myself. I will tell you first of all that Bracha has told me that she is very proud of me and that my behavior was X-M-plary. I think that means that I was very well behaved, except for the business with the squirrels, which I'll tell you about, but anyway, here goes.
We started the trip just as any other trip we take together, but we got off at a new train station that Bracha and I had never been to before, and a nice man helped us out of the station. I was already hungry since I had not eaten all day, but I soon forgot about that in my excitement. We were at the airport, and we were flying to New York! I spent the entire plane trip sleeping next to Bracha and Pnina's feet, and by the time we got to New York I was rather light-headed from not having eaten for a day and a half. But the moment we got outside Bracha whipped out my little travel bowl and fed me. There was even a large dog run for us to relax a bit and do busy, and Lynn, Dror's dog, and I ran about and felt a lot better. Then we drove to Manhattan.
The buildings in New York are so tall that I could not see to the top, and sometimes we went up inside these buildings and I looked down into the street below, where the people looked tiny. Walking around New York is no simple task. The streets are crowded, filled with people, and very strange things happen there. Sometimes the whole sidewalk disappears and there is a scary deep hole covered by metal grates, and I had to walk around them. Other times doors open up in the middle of the sidewalk and people emerge out of nowhere, scaring the living daylights out of Lynn, Norman, (Danny's guide dog) and me. But the strangest things in New York are animals called squirrels that live in the Central Park. The first time I saw a squirrel I forgot I was in harness, forgot I was a guide dog, and completely lost it. All I wanted to do was run after them! I was just a dog! Bracha did not approve of this and gave me a good, hard leash correction and made me lie down on the pavement, but I could not settle down. When Noach heard what I had done he told Bracha in no uncertain terms that he would show me some real discipline, which he did later in the week. After that I realized that I had better shape up with the squirrel business.
Bracha and I lived at a hotel in Manhattan on the corner of 49th Street and 10th Avenue in Manhattan. Now, on the corner of 11th Avenue and 51st street there is a wonderful dog park! Bracha and I soon learned the way there, and every morning she would take me to the park and brush me. I could then run and play before beginning the hard day's work of guiding in New York City. I soon made some local friends: Kayla, a golden retriever like me, Brillo, and the two Yorkshire terriers Dot and Bert. And best of all, there was a pool in the park for dogs to swim in! So there was something in New York for me, too.
Bracha also bought me lots of presents at the pet store: a tug of war toy, a leather bone (I admit, I snitched it off the bottom shelf and Bracha had to buy it!), and a little red purse for me to wear to hold Bracha's keys and a roll of strawberry-scented plastic bags for, er, cleaning up. I was so happy and proud that I wore it everywhere we went. I even chose a present for my friend Petel - a purple donut chew toy!
People in New York were very kind to us, and no one ever told us we had to get out of a store or restaurant, and were always eager to help Bracha choose her breakfast from the buffet or get in the elevator. In New York people call me a service dog, and I am allowed everywhere. I was even allowed into the chocolate store, but Bracha soon took me out again because there were pieces of chocolate on the floor, and she didn't want me eating any!
There are a few things about New York that I cannot figure out: What did Bracha and I do to make the thousands of people cheer and clap when we walked down 5th Avenue in the parade? Were all those thousands of people there cheering and waving Israeli flags for us guide dogs from Israel? Why was the man in Central Park walking on stilts? Why do the trains in New York run underground instead of on tracks outside? And why are people in New York City always in such a hurry? I guess they are all trying to get to the tops of all those high buildings where they live and work. And where oh where are dogs supposed to do busy in New York when all the trees grow out of concrete and there is no soft green grass??
It was hard work guiding Bracha and lying quietly while Noach and Bracha talked to very important people, and I can definitely do without another 12-hour plane ride with nothing to eat but ice cubes. But, yes, I'd do it again. And it looks like I'll have to. They want us to go to London in November. I wonder if there are squirrels there, too…
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Getting Ready to Go
Today finally came - the day I got my fur combed and trimmed for the trip! Bracha left me with Lena in the pet store and I went up the stairs to the little room where she works. She put me on the table and began combing my fur. Bracha stayed outside because the owner of the store was afraid to let her go up the steep stairs. She later told me that she walked around doing errands, but had a hard time walking around without me, and she came back before I was finished with Lena because she was tired out and unhappy without me. Then I came tripping down the stairs in my full white fluffy glory! Lena gave Bracha a rather sizeable bag full of all the fluff she had combed out of my fur! It was enough to make a small pillow! And now I feel a bit too clean, but I must admit it's cooler and nice.
Bracha is packing my little bag to go inside her suitcase: food for a day or so until we buy some more, a rope toy, a bone for the plane, water bowl, and brush for me. I'm so happy and excited! Only a week to go!
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
15 More Days!
Every morning I wake up and ask Bracha: "Are we going to New York today?" and Bracha says not yet. But things are starting to happen. Nuala got her hair cut the other day, and next week Bracha made an appointment for my yearly trim and bath. There is also a large suitcase that Bracha has put things in, including a brand new rope toy for me! I guess I'll just have to be patient and wait.
Meanwhile, it is starting to get hot here. Bracha noticed that I was dancing around at the stoplight in town yesterday, and will now take my shoes wherever we go, including to New York! And I've been promised a visit to a pet store, too!
Meanwhile, it is starting to get hot here. Bracha noticed that I was dancing around at the stoplight in town yesterday, and will now take my shoes wherever we go, including to New York! And I've been promised a visit to a pet store, too!
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Here I am again!
Well, it's been ages since I've written. I'm not sure what to tell you about first. So let's start with the festival. I had a ball. AS soon as I got there I started pulling Bracha straight to the lake. She settled me down, unpacked our things in our little room, and we headed for the beach. It was as good as ever as I went bounding in, and we swam together out into the deep water. I spent the entire weekend being admired by everyone, lying on the grass sleeping while the music played, and didn't even mind when Bracha was onstage and I had to stay tied up backstage so I wouldn't get in the way of the Irish dancers.
So it's good to be home again. We are not going to travel for a long time because there are no trains, so we will spend time getting me ready for our trip to New York. Bracha has assured me that we'll be great, that I can sleep on the plane, and she will take care of me all the time in the big city! I'm so excited! And Bracha has promised me a trip to the beauty salon before we go!
Interestingly enough, there has been a lot of publicity about two of my friends who were not allowed to go into a grocery store and a restaurant. The mayor of the town repremanded the owners and told them that they were breaking the law, and we were all pleased. And yesterday a nice taxi driver invited Bracha and me into his cab. He took out a large paper table cloth and spread it out on the front seat for Bracha and on the floor for me so that my hair wouldn't get on the rug. He actually took responsibility instead of complaining! What a refreshing change!
So it's good to be home again. We are not going to travel for a long time because there are no trains, so we will spend time getting me ready for our trip to New York. Bracha has assured me that we'll be great, that I can sleep on the plane, and she will take care of me all the time in the big city! I'm so excited! And Bracha has promised me a trip to the beauty salon before we go!
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