A New Puppy by Sheri Levy

After our older dogs, Jake, a black Labrador, and Sydney, our first Australian shepherd; passed on to doggie heaven, we adopted an eight-week-old, Aussie, we named Donovan. He was a beautiful, puppy with lots of splotches of white and copper and loving, amber eyes.

It didn’t take long to pick up on his strengths and weaknesses. Sydney, our first Aussie, learned every word we spoke. My husband and I had started spelling. Sydney picked up on our spelling and we laughed when he recognized our words. We no longer had secrets.

Donavan didn’t have the ability to learn as fast as we expected. We loved his sweet temperament, but his hyper-activity kept us on our toes. He didn’t learn his limitations and would leave our front yard to go visit with the neighborhood children.

We decided Donavan needed a playmate. A friend sent us a brief email brief–“This male dog needs to be rescued.”

The photo of a stunning, tri-colored Australian shepherd with one pastel, Carolina-sky, blue eye and other dark amber filled my screen. The markings on his face looked as if they had been hand-painted.

Straight through the computer screen, the Aussie’s eyes connected to mine. Curiosity defeated my reservations. I inhaled, requested information, and hit ‘send.’ What could a few questions hurt?

Two days later, we arrived at the owners’ home. A teen girl eventually caught the terrified dog and dumped him on their front yard. He shuddered being touched, but Murphy held him. We agreed he needed immediate help.

Driving home, Murphy grinned. “There’s a term, “Mulligan,” golfers use when they take a, ‘Do Over.’ What about naming him, Mulligan?”

I cradled Mulligan. “Perfect! He’s getting a second chance.”

My husband added an electric fence to our large backyard and I trained the dogs to stay in our yard. Mulligan understood but Donavan was resistant. As I worked upstairs in my office, writing, Donavan crept across the fence, and Mulligan followed. I went outside to check on the dogs and they were gone. I caught my breath and my heart trembled.

Friends helped Murphy and me look for our dogs. We lived out in the country, with lots of open land. Murphy started searching close to home. My friends walked and drove around different streets, calling them by name. As the evening grew dark, we knew there was no more time to look. Terrified, we hoped they’d come home for dinner. But that didn’t happen.

In the morning, our wonderful friends started looking again. We walked the empty fields and in the woods around the neighborhood. A few hours later my phone dinged. Murphy called and I nervously jabbered about all of our friends looking for the dogs.

He caught his breath and added. “I found Donavan miles away on a very busy street.” He paused and I heard him inhale. “He was hit by a truck and is dead on the side of the road. I’m bringing him home. I have no idea where Mulligan is.” And he hung up.

I stood on the driveway and waited for him to return. We both cried while Murphy buried Donavan.

“I’m going to look for Mulligan.” I drove up our long street and noticed a black dog curled-up in a grassy front yard. I pulled onto the drive way and got out of the car. I called “Mulligan.” His head lifted. He was so exhausted from running he didn’t move.

I sat next to Mulligan and poured my bottle of water into a bowl I’d brought. He slurped happily and after a few minutes he stood. Before we adopted Mulligan, we had learned he had been hit by a man with a stick. It didn’t take long to understand his fear of Murphy.

Two weeks later, Murphy said, “Mulligan is probably going to be your dog and I am going to need a puppy.”

My heart sank. “Okay. I understand.”

Murphy researched a litter of Aussie puppies and we drove to Georgia. Mulligan rode with us in the car and he played with the other dogs while Murphy chose his new puppy. He picked a black and white-merle Aussie. I drove home and Murphy held Slater, who looked like a piece of marble slate.

At home, Murphy sat on the den floor, and played tug with Slater. Silently, Mulligan left his safe place under our dining room table. He stood at the opening to the kitchen, spying on Murphy and Slater interacting. A couple of minutes passed. Mulligan slinked through the kitchen, sloth-like, and slipped into the den. His eyes never shifted from Murphy. I sat in my chair holding my breath. I didn’t say a word. My hand covered my racing heart.

Mulligan sauntered up to Murphy, plopped his bottom on the floor, inches from Murphy’s torso. Mulligan’s eyes focused on Slater and then back to Murphy. His head tilted with each of their playful movements. Seconds later, Mulligan leaned over Murphy and licked his forehead, ears and cheek.

Murphy stopped playing with Slater and his eyes filled with emotion, as did mine.

This had to have been a present from above. An episode Murphy nor I could ever have imagined. Murphy had broken through Mulligan’s fear with Slater’s help.

These two dogs have been brothers for eleven years. Our days with these two special dogs are counting down. Mulligan turned into a very loving and secure dog. Slater had cancer and has totally recovered.

We are enjoying every moment with these guys and will forever cherish our memories.

by Sheri Levy

 

 

 

 

 

 

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JAKE: Our Most Loving and Demanding Dog by Sheri Levy

 

After the death of our first rescued German shepherd, Charlie, my husband and I let our children choose a White German shepherd. Our young daughter named her, Gretchel. After Gretchel passed-on, and being avid dog lovers, we fell in love with the Australian shepherd breed.

During January, our six-month-old Aussie, Sydney, discovered his first snow storm, and he bit and pawed at the white fluff. Snow never lasted long in Greenville, S.C. so we spent the afternoon sledding. I rode our children’s red sled and Sydney chased me. Suddenly, a Black lab puppy bounced out of the woods, sat my lap, and licked my face.

Sydney barked, telling him to go away. But the Lab refused and wanted to play. Murphy and I assumed he was a neighbor’s dog. After an hour of being frozen and wet, we called Sydney and headed home.

The Lab sat and stared. His head bobbed sideways, contemplating what came next. Moments later, he raced after us. We led him into our garage, gave him water, and Murphy dried his wet body while I went in and called our neighbors. No one knew anything about this dog.

When I returned to the garage, Murphy shared. “This guy not only is skin and bones, but he has three puncture wounds. I’ll clean these bites since we’ll have to wait until the roads clear to get him to the veterinarian.

The wounds didn’t seem to bother him and he ate as if he hadn’t eaten in days. We made him a warm bed in the garage and he fell asleep. During his three days with us, he showed us his loving and relaxed personality. As the ice melted, we drove him to the Vet’s office. After we paid the Vet bills, we called him ours and named him Jake.

Jake grew to over eighty pounds and his mischievous nature began to show. After he chewed on our furniture while we worked, Jake became an outside dog within our electric fence. Sydney and Jake played like brothers, but Jake invented new ways to be destructive. Our daughter was getting married and her decorations and invitations arrived by UPS one day on the front porch.

When we arrived home, our son was picking-up the itty-biddy pieces of purple napkins and décor shredded across the front yard, and in between every plant. On other days, Jake ate the electric wires to the garage door opener, and the wires on the boat trailer. We never knew what we’d find when we returned home. Jake would play tug-a war-with our huge Azaleas, leaving gaping holes in the ground.

I had been taking Jake to dog training classes and the trainer encouraged us not to use negative ways to punish him. She talked about using balloons, popping them so he’d hear a sudden loud noise and would become afraid of balloons. Murphy blew up a balloon and popped it. I screamed. Jake watched and Sydney ran and hid.

The next step was to tape the colored-balloons inside the azaleas, the boat trailer and any electrical wires.  Our neighbors had a good laugh when they saw our colorful front yard.  Jake ignored the balloons as long as they stayed full of air. But once the air dissipated, he ripped-off the balloon and swallowed it. We’d find colored balloons around the entire yard.

Jake eventually out grew most of his mischief, and he lived to a ripe-old age of thirteen and a half. He was the funniest and most challenging dog we ever loved.

 

 

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Sheri Levy and Her Life with Service Dogs

Growing up in Southern California, allowed me to go to the beach, and snow ski on the local mountains.

After I married and had two young children, we moved to South Carolina. We have lived longer in the South than in California. I guess that makes me a southerner, without an accent!

Working Career

I received my Special Education teaching credentials in California, one for Mentally Handicapped and the other for Educationally Handicapped.
As soon as we arrived in Greenville, S.C, I was offered a job with a Multi- Handicapped class in the same school my children attended. But I needed one more credential for Learning Disabilities. Once again, I attended evening classes twice a week and taught school during the day.

After sixteen years with Special Needs children, I taught an adult GED program for nine more years. My adults needed skills in reading and writing, and this spurred my interest in writing. As a young student, I always spent time writing, but had I never thought about writing novels.

As I taught my students, the desire to write began to fester. After I retired, I took online classes and joined SCBWI- (Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators.)

Adopting the First Dog

My husband and I adopted a neighbor’s German shepherd. She was our first dog, and the reason we had more dogs.

When Charlie died, we raised an eight-week-old White shepherd, and then our first Australian shepherd, Sydney.

When Sydney was six months old, a Black lab blew into our yard during a snow storm. He had been injured, and after paying the medical bills, he became ours. Sydney and Jake enjoyed many adventures together.

When both passed on, we continued with the Aussie breed. We now have Aussie number three and four; Mulligan, rescued at seven months old, and Slater, chosen at eight-weeks-old.

I trained each dog, but Mulligan required the most attention because of his stressful puppyhood.

Service dogs

My interest in special needs prompted me to research service dogs.

One afternoon, I met a young boy walking his dog who wore a cape in the grocery store. Because I had researched service dogs, I assumed he was a puppy raiser. I asked his mother for permission to speak with him, and I found out the dog was his own Diabetic Alert service dog.

I interviewed him and wrote my first article for Clubhouse Magazine and entered this story in the Dog Writers Association Contest in 2010. To my surprise, the story won in their Special Interest Category. This category was sponsored by the Planet Dog Foundation Sit. Speak. Act. Canine Service organization. This award gave me the confidence to continue writing.

 Plot-line for Seven Days Through Research

My craving to write blossomed. I had taught children with autism, and found a reputable service dog organization, PAALS, close to my home.

A young girl, who worked as a puppy raiser with PAALS, allowed me to interview her. Her information helped create my story character and plot.

The setting takes place on my favorite beach, Edisto Beach, S.C., and I included Sydney. “Seven Days to Goodbye,” was born.

I support PAALS, and they promote my novels. It took three years from the start of writing of, “Seven Days to Goodbye,” to getting it published and entered in the DWAA contest. The novel won in their Special Interest Category in 2014.

Learning how to market the novels and promote myself. 

Writing is the fun part. Marketing is very time consuming. I have been very fortunate to have support from friends and readers.

Having wonderful reviews has built my confidence. It does take a while after the first book is birthed to see success trickle out over time. All of the wonderful feedback has been very positive and encouraging.

One of my biggest thrills was to be asked to do a motivational Skype program with three high schools in Nigeria. Weeks later, I began teaching writing to different age classes. It is special to know I may be helping others.

To this day, I am thrilled to be able to share my series, ‘Seven Days to Goodbye,’ ‘Starting Over,’ and very soon to introduce, ‘For Keeps.’

 You can stay in touch with Sheri Levy at: 

Twitter: @SheriSLevy

Facebook: www.sherislevyauthor

Website: www.sherislevy.com

Email: eightpawswriting@yahoo.com

Seven Days to goodbye‘ and ‘Starting Over‘ by Sheri S. Levy are available on Amazon in paperback, hardback, and Kindle Editions.

 

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