This is a very recent video about Tyson. It mentions a particular couple who are good to him... I wonder who that might be!
Monday, April 9, 2012
Friday, April 6, 2012
Howarth Park in Everett
I remember the day that we took Tyson to the beach in Everett. It was a gorgeous PNW day with a slight breeze and just a cloud or two in the sky. The sun was high, and the temperature had risen up into the low 80s. And anyone who had Monday off was outside, somewhere, doing something.
Ted and I were just new to Tyson. We would pick him up around 10 am and head off for the day. Mondays being our only day off together, we like to have adventures and find new places to explore. Wherever we went we were extra careful with Tyson's disability, too. We had no idea he was so keen and well adapted, it was us who had the issue with his blindness. We would walk one human in front and one in back during precarious steps or hills, and then one on each side on pathways and sidewalks to pad Tyson from anyone who couldn't tell he was blind. I even still go so far as to carry him down steps or a pathway that I believe is too much--and Tyson is no little guy!
That particular Monday, we decided we would see what Everett had to offer. We meandered from the North End where they love to fly kites and sailboard, and down to Howarth Park. There, a small child pitted her parents against each other as she looked for the most opportune moment to need something from one of them, and then cry at the other for neglecting her, a family roamed the upper playground, picnicking on Spanish entrees and laughing along with us at the new parents below, while wandering teenagers held hands and kissed in the bushes.
My husband and I walked ever so carefully with Tyson down the steps, across the bridge and past hundreds of laughing, chatting, splashing, painting, running and ever so happy people. We slipped off our shoes and led Tyson into the water. As it lapped against his legs, he stared in its direction. He sniffed it, tasted it and didn't care for the flavor as evidenced by his face and shaking head. A gull sounded off to his right, and he looked near to it. We three just stood there, ankle deep in surf, enjoying the freedom from shoes, and the unique things Tyson was experiencing. A small dog barked behind him, and he ignored it. Around us, some smaller children seemed anxious about this little beauty we had brought with us. Some wanted to pet him, but parents had warned them to avoid him, and that broke our hearts. And then some adults commented on his striking beauty. Oh how we beamed with pride, and offered out how friendly he really was.
Once people saw that this 80 pound dog was just a little puppy, they wanted to pet him. Fear of large dogs has never been an issue for me as I have been around them all my life, and I generally even go for the black ones, too. Big, black and beautiful, right? But there is something about a breed that just looks strong or is it that they look confident, because they are strong and that intimidates us? Tyson's rippling muscles and square jaw can admittedly shy someone, but then they see how he nuzzles and cuddles, and they are at ease. Tyson will loll around on the grass like a goofy child given the opportunity, and he is anything but intimidating.
The biggest fear we had was how he would react to other dogs, so we kept him near and held him close if a not so friendly or way too energetic pooch came near. It would bother me, too, if I were blind and energetic pooches neglected that and just came-a-rough-housing without considering my disability. But that is what we were there for. The barrier. The padding. The alpha. Any animal has to know it is safe with you as their protector, otherwise you wind up with an animal who is trained as your protector and can mistake the alpha role. Our pets rely on us for food, love and comfort. And we give them that because we are good pet owners, right? It's like treating your husband kindly. You do because you love them, and it's not a chore, it's a privilege.
What's more amazing, because this blind dog is not afraid of any human. He loves all of them: young, old, spry or even special needs.
I love that boy like he was mine, but I know he has some issues with cats. Any trainer said that he would need some training to thwart that issue, but it may never be entirely cured. Did it come before his blindness? Was it inherent? Was it a mode of survival? Who knows. No one will, either. When you are 8 years old, blind and someone finds you because you have been lost and wandering for goodness knows how long, that you are even alive is greatest feat. How you managed to stay alive is just an indication of your fortitude. Anything that comes from that can't be harshly judged, either. Countless humans walk into my place of work every day with back stories and things they have conquered and it is not my place to judge, right? The separation between us and Tyson is that we are supposed to have better cognition, though I really question that with some people these days...
Tyson needs a home with loving family members, but no cats, and since we have cats, he can't come home with us. As per my earlier statement, one is required to take care of their pets and keep them safe, happy and healthy. I have had my elder feline for 16 years now. That's nearly two decades through a marriage, then a divorce, just under a dozen moves from across country to urban and suburban lifestyles, and then new kitties and a new marriage...And! She still loves me;) So, she must be my first priority, but that doesn't mean I give up on Tyson. I will just keep telling and sharing his story until someone finds it compelling enough to say that they want him. It's funny, I showed a picture of him to a customer once. He said that Tyson ought to be auctioned, not adopted. What he meant was that he had never seen a cuter mug, a more indelible face than that of Tyson. It's true, the boy is quite handsome, isn't he?
I once told V. Becker that I would be in this for the long run, and that I didn't care how long it took to get Tyson a home, but that I would be present in his life until he had one. And maybe that's strange to some people, but when you put forth an effort, I believe it is important that you continue your effort even if the outcome changes from your original goal. Some say we have held on too long, or that my love for the boy is intimidating to prospective owners...but when they meet Tyson, they know exactly why anyone is immediately smitten with him. Just watch him sit pretty for a treat, he looks like a little puppy in his big shell.
If you who are reading these little stories are the one who gets to adopt him, I want you to know that he has been cared for by countless staff and volunteers for some time now. He's been nurtured, pampered and spoiled just waiting for you. And you are getting a dog who is quite possibly the smartest critter I have ever met. That makes me jealous--but in the best and happiest way possible;)
Ted and I were just new to Tyson. We would pick him up around 10 am and head off for the day. Mondays being our only day off together, we like to have adventures and find new places to explore. Wherever we went we were extra careful with Tyson's disability, too. We had no idea he was so keen and well adapted, it was us who had the issue with his blindness. We would walk one human in front and one in back during precarious steps or hills, and then one on each side on pathways and sidewalks to pad Tyson from anyone who couldn't tell he was blind. I even still go so far as to carry him down steps or a pathway that I believe is too much--and Tyson is no little guy!
That particular Monday, we decided we would see what Everett had to offer. We meandered from the North End where they love to fly kites and sailboard, and down to Howarth Park. There, a small child pitted her parents against each other as she looked for the most opportune moment to need something from one of them, and then cry at the other for neglecting her, a family roamed the upper playground, picnicking on Spanish entrees and laughing along with us at the new parents below, while wandering teenagers held hands and kissed in the bushes.
My husband and I walked ever so carefully with Tyson down the steps, across the bridge and past hundreds of laughing, chatting, splashing, painting, running and ever so happy people. We slipped off our shoes and led Tyson into the water. As it lapped against his legs, he stared in its direction. He sniffed it, tasted it and didn't care for the flavor as evidenced by his face and shaking head. A gull sounded off to his right, and he looked near to it. We three just stood there, ankle deep in surf, enjoying the freedom from shoes, and the unique things Tyson was experiencing. A small dog barked behind him, and he ignored it. Around us, some smaller children seemed anxious about this little beauty we had brought with us. Some wanted to pet him, but parents had warned them to avoid him, and that broke our hearts. And then some adults commented on his striking beauty. Oh how we beamed with pride, and offered out how friendly he really was.
Once people saw that this 80 pound dog was just a little puppy, they wanted to pet him. Fear of large dogs has never been an issue for me as I have been around them all my life, and I generally even go for the black ones, too. Big, black and beautiful, right? But there is something about a breed that just looks strong or is it that they look confident, because they are strong and that intimidates us? Tyson's rippling muscles and square jaw can admittedly shy someone, but then they see how he nuzzles and cuddles, and they are at ease. Tyson will loll around on the grass like a goofy child given the opportunity, and he is anything but intimidating.
The biggest fear we had was how he would react to other dogs, so we kept him near and held him close if a not so friendly or way too energetic pooch came near. It would bother me, too, if I were blind and energetic pooches neglected that and just came-a-rough-housing without considering my disability. But that is what we were there for. The barrier. The padding. The alpha. Any animal has to know it is safe with you as their protector, otherwise you wind up with an animal who is trained as your protector and can mistake the alpha role. Our pets rely on us for food, love and comfort. And we give them that because we are good pet owners, right? It's like treating your husband kindly. You do because you love them, and it's not a chore, it's a privilege.
What's more amazing, because this blind dog is not afraid of any human. He loves all of them: young, old, spry or even special needs.
I love that boy like he was mine, but I know he has some issues with cats. Any trainer said that he would need some training to thwart that issue, but it may never be entirely cured. Did it come before his blindness? Was it inherent? Was it a mode of survival? Who knows. No one will, either. When you are 8 years old, blind and someone finds you because you have been lost and wandering for goodness knows how long, that you are even alive is greatest feat. How you managed to stay alive is just an indication of your fortitude. Anything that comes from that can't be harshly judged, either. Countless humans walk into my place of work every day with back stories and things they have conquered and it is not my place to judge, right? The separation between us and Tyson is that we are supposed to have better cognition, though I really question that with some people these days...
Tyson needs a home with loving family members, but no cats, and since we have cats, he can't come home with us. As per my earlier statement, one is required to take care of their pets and keep them safe, happy and healthy. I have had my elder feline for 16 years now. That's nearly two decades through a marriage, then a divorce, just under a dozen moves from across country to urban and suburban lifestyles, and then new kitties and a new marriage...And! She still loves me;) So, she must be my first priority, but that doesn't mean I give up on Tyson. I will just keep telling and sharing his story until someone finds it compelling enough to say that they want him. It's funny, I showed a picture of him to a customer once. He said that Tyson ought to be auctioned, not adopted. What he meant was that he had never seen a cuter mug, a more indelible face than that of Tyson. It's true, the boy is quite handsome, isn't he?
I once told V. Becker that I would be in this for the long run, and that I didn't care how long it took to get Tyson a home, but that I would be present in his life until he had one. And maybe that's strange to some people, but when you put forth an effort, I believe it is important that you continue your effort even if the outcome changes from your original goal. Some say we have held on too long, or that my love for the boy is intimidating to prospective owners...but when they meet Tyson, they know exactly why anyone is immediately smitten with him. Just watch him sit pretty for a treat, he looks like a little puppy in his big shell.
If you who are reading these little stories are the one who gets to adopt him, I want you to know that he has been cared for by countless staff and volunteers for some time now. He's been nurtured, pampered and spoiled just waiting for you. And you are getting a dog who is quite possibly the smartest critter I have ever met. That makes me jealous--but in the best and happiest way possible;)
Wednesday, April 4, 2012
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Follow your bliss
I'm reading about Jane Goodall and her project in Gombe. When chimps grieve they tend to wander the same spot of their loss. They remember other events, people and places astonishingly well, and much like humans. In fact, her beloved Flame wandered the spot wherein her own mother had died. Flame paced and paced until she was so consumed by grief, she laid down and never got up again. Apparently this feeling of utter destruction is not uncommon. Chimps are such amazing critters, aren't they. We are lucky to have organizations that help protect them against over hunting for Bush Meat as well as habitat protection. It's too bad we can't learn from all past experiences rather than look upon new ones and new chimps for medical experimentation. An animal's last day should not be its best.
Likewise, we have amazing agencies here in the US, which protect the rights of animals who are abused or neglected. I believe animals are even more cerebral than most people give them credit. Fortunately a lot of other people do as well. They think, have fear, know and show love, get sad and even know joy. I think it's incredibly funny that after all these years we still need someone to tell us that they are having an emotion, rather than being able to read it on their faces or see it in their body language. Name a half dozen advocates for animal rights and there are a sleeper cell of millions of us donating 10 dollars here and 1O dollars there, of which we expect no recompense except in our own beings. You can't get a tax break for donating 20 bucks online to fluffy's kidney surgery, and so many people don't expect to be able to do so. We just do it, because we give a damn.
Tyson, though blind, has mental and emotional images of his loved ones. He knows where my truck is often parked. He'll pull (more like drag me) the leash right for the general spot every time. Tyson, too, is an animal propelled by memory. Perhaps it is his blindness which has forced him to be more keen. Or is Tyson a generally smarter canine than most? He knows my voice, and I often feel like he knows the sounds my shoes or steps make, too. When I must leave, Tyson also remembers that I stash a treat on his bed, which he seeks out every time we return from an adventure. He's a smart, smart boy. He can remember the layout of a room, how to escape chair legs and just where the end of the deck is before he needs to step down.
Like she would a child, Jane greatly grieved the first chimp in which she made contact. David Greybeard had died shortly after the pneumonia epidemic swept the forest. I can only imagine what that must be like. You struggle and fight to get somewhere, doing something you have wanted to do since you were a child, and then you actually get to see your dream come true, only to have that first glimpse die too early on. As morbid as it sounds, I can only imagine what losing Tyson will be like for me when his day arrives, too. How do you grasp losing a teacher, losing the most pivotal marker in your life? Tyson is why I again seek to become the veterinarian I always wanted to become. A simple, but beautiful dog gave back to me back the dream I had buried. If Tyson hadn't opened my eyes back up, I'd still be getting by and surviving rather than ardently working for my bliss. I owe him so much, which is why I ardently devote time to him weekly --as possible.
My dearest Tyson, I hope you find a home soon. You deserve a warm fire and to bring joy to a family as much as you've brought me and ours. But until then, I'm so happy to see and visit with you, gleaning spots of wisdom when I can. You are my David Greybeard, if I may be so bold to compare you. May you, however, live to ripe old years and filled with tender people who love you immensely, oh, and really great veterinary care!
Likewise, we have amazing agencies here in the US, which protect the rights of animals who are abused or neglected. I believe animals are even more cerebral than most people give them credit. Fortunately a lot of other people do as well. They think, have fear, know and show love, get sad and even know joy. I think it's incredibly funny that after all these years we still need someone to tell us that they are having an emotion, rather than being able to read it on their faces or see it in their body language. Name a half dozen advocates for animal rights and there are a sleeper cell of millions of us donating 10 dollars here and 1O dollars there, of which we expect no recompense except in our own beings. You can't get a tax break for donating 20 bucks online to fluffy's kidney surgery, and so many people don't expect to be able to do so. We just do it, because we give a damn.
Tyson, though blind, has mental and emotional images of his loved ones. He knows where my truck is often parked. He'll pull (more like drag me) the leash right for the general spot every time. Tyson, too, is an animal propelled by memory. Perhaps it is his blindness which has forced him to be more keen. Or is Tyson a generally smarter canine than most? He knows my voice, and I often feel like he knows the sounds my shoes or steps make, too. When I must leave, Tyson also remembers that I stash a treat on his bed, which he seeks out every time we return from an adventure. He's a smart, smart boy. He can remember the layout of a room, how to escape chair legs and just where the end of the deck is before he needs to step down.
Like she would a child, Jane greatly grieved the first chimp in which she made contact. David Greybeard had died shortly after the pneumonia epidemic swept the forest. I can only imagine what that must be like. You struggle and fight to get somewhere, doing something you have wanted to do since you were a child, and then you actually get to see your dream come true, only to have that first glimpse die too early on. As morbid as it sounds, I can only imagine what losing Tyson will be like for me when his day arrives, too. How do you grasp losing a teacher, losing the most pivotal marker in your life? Tyson is why I again seek to become the veterinarian I always wanted to become. A simple, but beautiful dog gave back to me back the dream I had buried. If Tyson hadn't opened my eyes back up, I'd still be getting by and surviving rather than ardently working for my bliss. I owe him so much, which is why I ardently devote time to him weekly --as possible.
My dearest Tyson, I hope you find a home soon. You deserve a warm fire and to bring joy to a family as much as you've brought me and ours. But until then, I'm so happy to see and visit with you, gleaning spots of wisdom when I can. You are my David Greybeard, if I may be so bold to compare you. May you, however, live to ripe old years and filled with tender people who love you immensely, oh, and really great veterinary care!
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