Inez

Very few of you know my friend Inez. That’s okay, I’ll tell you about her.

I have to pick up the story when Inez was about two-and-a-half years old. She lived in New Jersey with lots of friends her age and of course, her human handlers and trainers. She was a beautiful Golden with dancing eyes and a perpetually wagging tail and an alertness that seemed unnatural when in harness and an impish look when off duty.

I met Inez when Susan brought her home from the Seeing Eye for the first time. Susan’s former dog guide (Nelly, her second after the sainted Louise) had suffered a series of doggy strokes and although she eventually regained much of her playfulness she would never regain the chops or the desire to return to the working world of keeping Susan safe when out and about.

In order to let the dogs meet on neutral turf, I took Nelly out to the little park behind the library and we introduced them there, Inez with Susan in harness and Nelly at my side on a loose lead. They took to each other right off and I didn’t detect any jealousy on Nelly’s part at seeing her role usurped. If anything, she might have seemed a bit relieved. Bjorn, Susan’s husband had come to love Nelly and so she went home a pet that day, a retired working dog who would live out her days without professional responsibilities. Meanwhile, Two and I took Susan and Inez over to the college where Susan worked and practiced routes with them, defining visual cues for the dog and settling on arrangements for one truly ambiguous intersection (plazas are the bane of guide dog pairs).  Before you know it, Inez with Susan and Nelly with Bjorn had settled into a new and comfortable routine.

Time went by. Nelly became Bjorn’s constant companion while Inez partnered with Susan. Eventually Nelly passed and as these things go, there came a day when Inez in her turn let Susan know by a certain hesitance that her own time working in harness was drawing to a close. So the cycle repeated, Inez becoming Bjorn’s pet-companion while Cajun came home with Susan from New Jersey to assume the watch. After another round of familiarization coaching over at the college, life resumed its normal rhythms.

Last week, Susan’s son passed away and so she and Bjorn and Cajun are in Florida for the funeral and to take care of the business needs attendant on the passing of a family member. Inez is watching the manse and Mary, Two and I have taken turns going over to sit with her, let her in and out and feed her. Two sleeps there each evening.

Inez could feel the tension and sadness in the house last week and now is left largely alone, with only a dog’s understanding of human affairs so that she probably isn’t entirely sure she hasn’t been abandoned. Tomorrow, her tribe will return and she will know she’s loved and part of a family. But for tonight, we can only give her an extra pat on the head and hope she isn’t too sad. She can’t know how happy she will be this time tomorrow so all we can do is make her feel loved.

This is one time I really, REALLY wish I spoke dog.

(6/26/2015) Just realized I missed some edits and there might have been confusion as to which dog was which. Sorry about that. All well now.)

(7/19/2015 - Inez passed away earlier this week. Bjorn was with her. You never really know what a dog understands, but I'm sure she knew she was loved.)