Power

Women swoon at the sight of a puppy. Men will stop their cars and let you cross the street in front of them if you have a puppy.

If you have a puppy, everyone is your friend.

I wish I’d learned this years ago. For one thing, I’d have been much more popular in college. I’d have had more girlfriends (anything more than zero is “more”). I could’ve made people do anything I wanted, because if you show people a puppy, they’re putty in your hands. Puppies make everybody happier; I think that you can make anybody smile if you show them your puppy. No puppy is not cute, and people are drawn to cute, ergo when you have a puppy, people are drawn to you.

Puppies are power.

This has been my experience with our puppy, Wisdom, so far. Today we took her into the city via train for her first time, and wherever we went, heads turned in our direction. We went to the Melbourne Central Library today to get cards, and nearly everyone in the fiction section stopped to say hi and try to pet the puppy (who we had to then turn away because she’s not supposed to be petted when she’s in her training coat).

Then we went into Starbucks to take a break and re-caffeinate. Upon entering, every woman’s head turned in our direction, and that look of “awwww” came over their faces. After ordering our drinks, we took a seat. Wisdom promptly crashed on the floor under our table and went to sleep (apparently all the attention makes a pup tired). I’m pretty sure she was the talk of the café, and if she wasn’t, we were.

On the way home, we received several compliments (through several conversations started because we had a puppy) – “good on you for doing this” – because we were raising a seeing-eye dog. I think people realize how much work it is, even if they’ve never done it themselves. It’s amazing how time-consuming Wisdom is; she’s always getting into something; chewing on wires, peeing on the carpet (which, by the way, looks like it has seen previous puppies), and generally making a nuisance of herself. That’s just the way a puppy is. But she’s also a joy; I love the (exhausted) smile on Liz’s face after Wisdom does something right (“sit Wisdom. Good girl!!”).

My profound thought for the day occurred to me on the way to the city. Like us, Wisdom has been called to a life of service. This means giving up some things that she enjoys (chasing toys, chewing on live electrical wires, hiding between the couch and the window) and adopting certain disciplines that are hard and sometimes seem pointless. But it is for what is good. She can be eyes for someone that cannot see, a guide for those less fortunate. Her service is freedom.

But in order to get there, we have to get her to listen to us first (“sit … good girl, Wisdom, wait, NO, BAD dog, we do that OUTSIDE!”).

I’ll keep you posted.

Rhythm

I went to Blackburn today to visit my friend Colin, grab some meat pies, and generally wander around and catch up. I've never had a meat pie before, and naturally Colin, a lover of all things food, offered to be the one to introduce me.

To get to Blackburn required two trains, one car, and a whole lot of walking. A trip to the bookstore, a failed attempt to get ice cream, and lots of good conversation later, it was time for me to head back home.

It struck me on the way home that this city has a life of its own. It lives and breathes in a way not unlike we do. As I boarded a train bound for Coburg, I could almost feel the pulse of the city; watching the trains arrive and depart the station in rhythm with each other was almost music, a symphony of precision.

Naturally, it was as I was getting all reflective that I screwed up my easy trip home. I'd promised Liz that I'd pick up a little heater unit on the way, and to do this I was planning to stop at kmart in Brunswick. Thing is, Brunswick is a fairly large suburb, with three train stations along the Upfield train line (which travels to Coburg eventually).

I picked the middle of the three, Brunswick station, and of course, it was the wrong one - I should've gotten off at Jewell station, but I only figured this out when I'd walked out to the street Kmart was supposed to be on.

The cool thing about the Melbourne transportation network is that the trams and trains run parallel to each other, the major arteries of the city, running from the city core (the loop) outwards to the furthest extrematies of the suburbs. And so I boarded a tram headed down Sydney road, three stops, and my dilemma was fixed.

I think that I'm finally starting to get a feel for the rhythm of this city. I don't really feel as helpless as I felt when I arrived; I can get to the other side of the city on my own, without having to call Colin or Sally for backup. I'm getting better at timing my walk from home to the train station, waiting less time for transport.

It's exciting, in a weird, twisted, somewhat peculiar way, that I can find my way across the city. When I arrived, I figured it'd be a piece of cake to be a missionary; go in and just live. But living is not so easy when you don't know the city so well. The folks at mimos have been really helpful, laughing at (with) me as I've learned. They're family now, because they've taught me and loved me and watched me grow. I know I still have a lot to learn, but I'm feeling progress, and that is a good feeling.

Wisdom

This is my wife, Liz. Liz has a soft spot for puppies, and this year she's getting to realize a dream she's had for a while: to raise a seeing-eye dog puppy. In her arms is Wisdom, the newest member of the Logan family, and our charge for the next eleven months.

Basically, the program is that the puppy needs somebody to train it to do certain basic things and generally keep an eye on it until it's old enough to go through formal seeing-eye dog training. That's where we come in. We give it a place to stay, they provide the puppy, its food, cage, bedding, toys (it's only allowed three specific toys), and training gear (harness, leash, etc.). It's a good deal, overall, even though there are a few rules we have to follow.

SEDA (Seeing Eye Dogs Australia) is really great about working with you, though, and I'm looking forward to working with Mark, the trainer that's helping us raise Wisdom. When she turns 12 months old, Wisdom goes off to training school with a professional trainer, and we have to say good-bye (currently, she's only 7 weeks and one day old).

But it'll be a great trip until then. In some ways, it's a great excuse to travel, because she has to go everywhere a person might go: in a car, trains, trams, busses, restaurants, gyms (we'll see), cafes, homes, streets, etc. At this point, we're getting her adjusted to the house and trying to make her understand that the rug is not a place to pee.

The funny part about Wisdom is that she's really particular about being in our company. She can't stand it when we're not around. She'll start whining and whimpering, and then, when she finds us, if we stand still for too long (or if we're sitting down), she'll snuggle all up into our feet and fall asleep. It's great.

For more pictures and whatnot, go here.