If Not For a Dog's Nose

Follow Dog Home coauthor Samantha Walsh with Beverly

Three years ago this week, on the first Saturday of August, Beverly led us back to the exact place where our journey with dogs began.  Were it not for her nose, who knows if we have all that we do today?  By that I mean a critically acclaimed book, a Facebook page with nearly 8,000 fans, and the validation of the family dog as something greater than the family pet.

To bring you up to speed:  I moved my family to Wellesley, Massachusetts in August 2009.  I took my German Shepherd, Beverly, for a walk down Atwood Street, and she started sniffing around a particular property.  Prior to our arrival in town we'd never been to Wellesley, nor did we know anyone who had lived there.  Return trips to Atwood Street yielded greater curiosity from Beverly's nose, and it piqued my curiosity too.  It turns out the house in particular was briefly my Dad's childhood home.  The discovery of an photo confirmed it.  Dad never knew he lived there.  Neither did we.  Beverly might have known, but who can say for sure?

Walshes return to Atwood Street, 2011.  Left to right: Beverly (dog), Kevin, Bob, Amanda, Jean and Samantha. Annie is the Corgi on Bob and Jean's laps.

Walshes at Atwood Street, 1941.  (Foreground) Dee Dee.  Left to right (back): Elizabeth and Marie Beth (Walsh) Hall.  Elizabeth is holding Bob, Marie Beth is holding Bob's twin, Dick.  Bob is sitting on the exact same spot 70 years apart. 

We went back to the homestead with the blessing of the homeowner, and plunked Dad down on the  front stoop.  We really had come full circle to the place where it all started some 70 years ago.  Dad has seen five wars, and raised 17 dogs with his children and his children's children.  So much has changed.  But one thing never did--a dog's place in the family.  It is the one and only constant in life that we know.  And we wouldn't want it any other way.

What Do You Say to a Grieving Dog Owner?

Asia, minus her dog pal

I don't know what it is, but lately I've been talking to a lot of dog owners about loss.  Last weekend it was a man in Boston's North End.  He was walking Asia, his one dog instead of the usual two.

And yesterday I caddied for a nice fellow who put his friend of 13 years down just a few months ago, and quickly bought a new Lab to replace him.  He had such joy talking about his new puppy, but it was clear my golfer was still grieving the other one.

After the round, I shared with my loop part of what we wrote in Follow the Dog Home, because in many ways he was feeling similar to how my 10-year-old daughter and coauthor Samantha did a few years ago.  Samantha came home and discovered our 12-year-old German Shepherd, Tiffany, dead on the floor.  A few months after that, we got a new German Shepherd--Beverly.  I thought all was well.  What I didn't realize was Sammy's feelings of joy for the new dog were tempered by her concern that Tiffany would think we had abandoned her.   I never would have known this had she not expressed it in her writing.

Tiffany (dog) with Amanda (left) and Samantha

So as I was saying goodbye to my golfer, I wanted to leave him with something.  I told him what Lebanese Philosopher Kahlil Ghibran wrote about in The Prophet; something that we included in Follow the Dog Home.  Sorrow carves away at your being so the vessel can be refilled in whole when joy returns.  It's like a tall glass of cold lemonade on a hot summer day.  Were we not parched in body and spirit before, the replenishment wouldn't be as refreshing.

Beverly (dog) with (L to R) Samantha, Kevin and Amanda

Dogs of Provincetown

If there's a place that's more dog friendly than Provincetown, Massachusetts, we don't know where it is.  We've spent the past few days in P-Town, and we're not sure whether our German Shepherd, Beverly, is going to let us leave.  She's had more fun than us--which is really saying something.

Beverly

We came here to speak about our book, Follow the Dog Home, at the Provincetown Library.  Around that, we had the kids with us for a day, before dropping them off at a Girl Scouts overnight camp farther down the Cape.  Jean and I have filled in the rest of the week with typical beach town activities.

Jean & Kevin Walsh on Cee Jay Fishing Tour

By and large, most of our time has been spent walking Commercial Street, the mecca of people/dog watching.  Beverly has absolutely loved being fussed over by friendly strangers.  We did the same with their dogs and took pictures.  Here are a few:

Maggie & Gracie, Australian Terriers

Sophie, Goldendoodle

Cairn Terrier.  Didn't get its name, but owner says it's the poster child for a Chicago area Wizard of Oz production.  Looks like Toto to me.

There are so many more, but you get the point.  We'll remember our visit to Provincetown more for the conversations we had, than for the stuff we did.  And, as always, the dogs were the conversation starter.

For more cute dog pictures from Provincetown visit us at - https://www.facebook.com/followthedoghome

Super Dogs at Super Bowl

I saw a lot of football at the Super Bowl, naturally.  I also saw quite a few "Super Dogs" in Indianapolis.  So I thought I'd tell you about them.

Below are Brody and Kaiser, German Shepherd rescues.  I don't think I've ever seen more handsome rescue dogs in my life.  I don't know who would give up on such beautiful dogs; but their owner, Sean of Indianapolis is thrilled to have them.  I've seen a lot of well primped dogs who don't look as good as these two.  Brody and Kaiser enjoyed the whiz sound of the zipliners zipping past St. John's Church in front of the Convention Center.

Brody front, Kaiser back

There were lots of working dogs too.   As to be expected, many were German Shepherds.  

Diesel, Ft. Wayne, IN

Above is Diesel from Ft. Wayne.  He's trying to listen in on his handler's cell phone conversation.  After the man hung up, Diesel did his thing--sniffing my bag and the bags of other reporters and cameramen.  I couldn't get Diesel  in action because the Super Bowl Super People were rushing me along; but here's another dog in action that did pretty much the same thing.  It happened so fast, that it really was--like the picture--a blur.

Then there were Rowdy and King.  Both worked for the Department of Homeland Security.  Both were Labs.  King is the black Lab in the top picture.  From the nose down, I kinda think he looks like his handler.  Rowdy is the yellow Lab below King.  He looks like his master too.  Isn't that the way it's supposed to be?  The dogs and handlers did a masterful job sniffing around media headquarters of the JW Marriott Hotel.

And then there were regular dogs who just took a walk, or a seat around the Super Bowl Village.  Below are Goldendoodles Finlay and Jackson.  Neither is golden, but their personalities were.  Both charmed the passersby who wanted to pet them.  They loved it, and their owners did too.

Finlay, brown Goldendoodle

Jackson, black Goldendoodle

So there you go for Super Dogs.  They really were a part of Super Bowl 46.  It just goes to show that the Super Bowl is for everyone, and that includes the dogs.

Massive Dogs, Lots of Fun

I'll be going to a Patriots sendoff rally later today at Gillette Stadium, and traveling to Indianapolis for the Super Bowl tomorrow (Monday).  I'll miss my wife, children and dog, but going to the Super Bowl really is a once in a lifetime opportunity.  With that in mind, I made sure to take them out to a nice family lunch yesterday, and Beverly over to her favorite place:  Centennial Park, in Wellesley.

Beverly, foreground.  Bucky, background.

We had exceptionally warm and sunny January weather.  I knew it would be a good day when we pulled into the parking lot at Centennial and saw a massive German Shepherd sitting in the back of his car with the back hatch open.  He and his owner walked with us.   Bucky was massive and handsome.  His light colors reminded me of my first GSD, Tiffany.  Naturally, Beverly fell in love, and loved her walk with her new pal.

Bucky just exuded a quiet calm, a regal sense of "I'm the man!" on the trails.  We encountered a male Boxer along the way with whom Bucky had a history.  Bucky thumped the Boxer a few times with forearm shivers to send the dominant message without a single bark, or baring of teeth.  It was impressive.  So too was his pose during his top of the hill rest.  Now that's one helluva dog.

On the way down the hill we bumped into Heidi, the St. Bernard.  My family had a St. Bernard years ago, long before I was born.  When you have a past history of breeds in your family, you're pretty much forever attracted to them.  Heidi attracted plenty of attention, and apparently is a pro when it comes to striking a pose.

Heidi