Cute Dog Pictures

Bailey, Sarasota, FL

What does the headline of each blog entry have to do with what it's about?  Not much, or everything.  One thing we've discovered since we started the Follow the Dog Home Blog along with the book, is that nothing gets attention quite like cute dog pictures.  I could write a heckuva good entry with thrilling content, but if there's no picture, there are no takers.  I get it, and you know what?  I'm a sucker for a cute dog picture as much as anyone else.  That's Bailey above.  I bumped into him at a birthday party in Sarasota.  More on bumping into strange dogs below.

Beverly, Wellesley, MA

We're wrapping up a nice vacation in Florida; and while I was busy frolicking with the kids and the Mrs. in the pool, and trying to fool every largemouth bass in the Sunshine State with plastic worms, I couldn't help but think about how much I miss my dog, Beverly.  I'm sure she's anxiously looking out the window back home in Massachusetts wondering when we're coming home.

While in Naples, Florida I discovered a dog park around the Lely Resort.  There I met plenty of elderly snowbirds who wondered who shows up at a dog park sans dog?  I do.  They may have found it odd, but their dogs didn't.

Hank, hankering for more catch & fetch

Hank the Goldendoodle wore himself and my arm out with a sloppy game of fetch.  Slipperiest tennis ball I've ever touched.  Awesome dog.

Sheba, Great Dane

Sheba, the four-year-old 170-pound Great Dane above is the biggest female dog I've ever seen.  In true Great Dane fashion, she did everything well... big.  She gave me loving kisses that, because of the drool, stayed longer than the affection.  She was such a sweetie.

And then there was Mays, as in Willie Mays.  Man did he like to play.  He was cruising at full speed along with a Whippet named Ollie when, CRASH!  They slammed into me like two linebackers on a blitz.  It was really something, but none of us was worse for wear, although I was wearing dirt and gobs of more doggy saliva after that too.  But that's the life of a dog park party crasher, and it's a good life, when your best dog is home alone.

Mays, Yellow Lab

When Dogs Play Favorites

I made a simple post on our Facebook page this morning, and the response was overwhelming.  It was a picture of my daughter, Amanda, and Beverly between pillows.  The picture says a lot about their close relationship, and that picture is a snapshot of a broader canvas.  Do dogs play favorites?  I don't think there's any doubt about it.

I'm not even going to try back it up with science, but I know what I see, and I remember what I've read.  The original mission of dogs was to serve.  Specific breeds had specific attributes that made them good for whatever the job called for.  But things evolved, and sometimes reversed themselves.  It's a huge generalization, but most dogs I know are now servees, not servers.  And if a dog needs/wants something, it goes to who services them best.

Our previous German Shepherd, Tiffany, was getting up there in years when we had children.  Tiffany had achy bones.  She much preferred the attention that Samantha payed from a safe distance than say an Amanda in your face specialty.

Samantha reading to Tiffany, 2007

 

Amanda up close and personal with Beverly, 2012

Beverly is all about facials.  She'll give and take one from anyone, but nobody makes her face sparkle as much as Amanda.  

Susie, our Golden Retriever from years ago had a sense of adventure.  My brother Chris was probably the more adventurous sibling.  When the jeep rolled up, Susie hopped in.  It'll pain my dad to read this, but Susie was probably most partial to Chris.

Don't worry Dad, this is for you.  Danielle, our Cairn Terrier was his dog.  She spent plenty of time with us kids, but when Dad came home from work, Danielle was all his.  I don't know what it was, I just think Danielle really valued authority, and saw him as the Alpha dog.

My brother Michael Walsh with Danielle, 1979

If it's playtime, Beverly looks to me.  And why not?  I love to play, and she always gives me a break  from the honey do list.

Beverly, all ready to go!

And when Beverly is not feeling well, she goes to Jean.  Don't we all?  She doesn't get chicken soup out of it like the rest of us, but Beverly gets what she needs, when she needs it most--a mother's gentle hands and compassion.

Jean with Beverly, 2012

Who does your dog play favorites with, and why?

Who's the Rescue Here?

When we wrote Follow the Dog Home, I told everyone that they would see themselves and their stories in ours.  Here's just one example of that.

Several months ago my neighbor, Bob, lost his beloved Bulldog named, Shakespeare.  Shakespeare was as cool as his name.  He'd ride with Bob to the town dump every morning.  A Bulldog riding shotgun in a white pickup truck?  He really was a junkyard dog.  It was a crushing loss when Shakespeare passed away, and Bob wasn't really sure he could go through the pain of losing another dog--which always happens somewhere down the road.  Eventually the loneliness wore him down.  A couple of days ago I saw Bob walking a new dog, a rescue named, Marlo.  Bob and Marlo looked so happy together.

Bob and Marlo

Bob's story reminds me of another Bob--my dad.  Like my neighbor, Dad went through a tough stretch after losing what he thought was going to be his last dog.  It's hard for us to imagine why Dad was so sad about losing Daisy the Dalmatian, because that dog was almost impossible to love.

Crazy Daisy

If you touched Daisy, she went bonkers.  In the book, my brother Mike describe it as something close to living with a wild animal, not a pet. Somehow Dad loved this troubled dog and took her loss very hard.  He admits he was in a funk for months after her death.   It got bad enough that his wife, Mary, told him "Go get yourself a dog."

He did, a Corgi named Annie.  She rescued my dad, and he's been smiling ever since.

Happy Annie

Happy Bob Walsh

 I'm wondering, have you lost a dog, then said "That's it, I'm done," only to change your mind later?

Dogs and the Sick

It's a joy to find a book that fits your needs and reading desires.  It's another thing, a better thing, when that book finds you.  Yesterday we had a book signing at Unleashed by Petco in Wellesley.  Some people came specifically to see us and buy the book.  Others, I guess you could say, stumbled upon us.

There was a nice man who shared that there was an illness in his family.  He wondered whether now was an appropriate time for that sick person to have a dog in her life.  My dad and I were able to share the story of how our Golden Retriever, Susie, sat bedside vigil when my mom was dying of cancer.  That meant a lot to the man.  He bought a book and remarked about how he fortunate he felt to have met us while browsing for dog biscuits, or something of that kind.  He came to the store with one thing in mind, but left with what he really needed.

L to R, Michael, Christopher, Carole and Kevin Walsh with Susie, 1988.

Similar moments in my life introduced me to books that have had such an impact on me: When Bad Things Happen to Good People, The Prophet and Tuesdays with Morrie.

L to R, Bob Walsh, Beth Faye, Susan Spielman with Poodle Ginny,  Kevin and Samantha Walsh

Plenty of other folks came into the store and bought books with good cheer.  We cheerfully signed and took pictures with them.  But the picture I have in my head the day after was the look on that man's face; and his realization that he found what he was looking for in a place that he least expected.


     

Kevin (left) with Zach Hill

I've said it before.  When you're an author, you should always have a copy of your book with you.  You might just bump into someone for whom it makes a most appropriate gift.  Yesterday was another one of those times.

The Philadelphia Flyers were coming to town to play the Boston Bruins.  Having grown up in Philadelphia and covering news and sports there, I know quite a few people in the Flyers front office and on the broadcast team.

Zach Hill is the Flyers media guy and he's "good people."  We always catch up whenever he comes to town.  He made it a point to let me know he'd been following the publicity of Follow the Dog Home and was very encouraging.  He wanted to know more.  So I told him the story about Beverly the German Shepherd leading us back to my father's long lost childhood home site unseen.

Bob Walsh, wearing paper boy hat, returns to his childhood home where his journey with dogs started 70 years ago.  Wellesley, MA

He loved it, and having a dog himself, he said he would buy a book.  That won't be necessary.
I gave him the signed one that I had brought with me to the Garden.

After the game, which the Bruins won 3-2 in a shootout, we took a picture in the Flyers locker room.  Zach said he'd read the book on the flight back to Philly.  I'm sure losing himself in the pages took his mind off a tough loss.  And the next time I see him, we'll have more stuff to talk about.

I Love Lucy: Family's First Dog

Lucy

 

How can you not fall in love with a face like that?  It's impossible.  You just surrender.  Some friends of ours just brought home their first dog.  Her name is Lucy.  With three boys and a young girl in the house, they weren't sure they could handle it.  But they're giving it a shot, or as they would say, they've added to the crazy.

It had been a process that involved pressure.  Most people in our part of Wellesley walk their kids to school.  Many of them bring their dogs along.  The other children at school fawn all over them.  Naturally, some of those dog-less children want to join the crowd.  And now another family has done that.

Amanda is friends with the family's daughter, who is celebrating her birthday in style with a new addition to the family--a puppy.  Ever the creative one, Amanda put together a birthday gift bag for her pal, personalized it with Lucy the Dog's picture on the front, and a copy of Follow the Dog Home inside.   I think the book will give our friends a good look at what the future of living with a dog has in store for them.

I'm sure little Lucy will give our neighbors all they can handle.  But where there's love, there's a way.  And with a love like Lucy, you can always Follow the Dog Home.

Surprise in Store!

Beverly, star of Follow the Dog Home, outside Wellesley Books

Ever bump into someone you know, but you totally don't recognize them?  It's kind of embarrassing and it happened to me the other day.

I was in Wellesley Books, shopping for gifts for friends, and books for me.  I had just finished talking with the owner, Bill Kohli, and was browsing around the register area.  In came a customer, dog in tow on a leash, on a mission.  "Do you have a dog book about home?  It's written by someone from the area."

My ears perked up and Bill gave me a nod from behind the counter.  "Are you looking for Follow the Dog Home?" I asked the woman.

"I guess that's it, my husband told me about it.  There is a German Shepherd in it."

"Yep.  That's my book.  I wrote it.  Beverly is my dog.  She's a German Shepherd."

I suddenly recognized the woman as someone I had met earlier in the day at church.  But you know when you see someone out of their element, in place or uniform, and you just completely space out? That's what happened.

The same was true with her dog, Matilda, who I actually wrote about in Follow the Dog Home under a pseudonym.  I hardly recognized "Matty" at the register because I was so used to seeing her at the dog park with her dad.  Swap a dad for a mom, and a store for a dog park, and there you go.  I was totally befuddled.  Matty and I quickly reconnected with a few whiffs and few pats.  Matty went home with a biscuit, and her mom with my book under her arm.

Later I took Beverly to Wellesley Books to kinda sorta relive the Matty Moment.  We didn't go in for a snack, instead settling for a picture outside.  Someday soon, we'll bring Bev inside the store.  And  I can't wait for the day when someone with their nose buried in a book with three silhouettes walking across the cover says, "You know that looks like the dog from the book I'm reading now."