My husband and I were greeted in the early morning light today as we’re greeted every morning: As soon as my guide dog, Saint, realized that we were not asleep [notice that I don’t say awake, just not asleep], up he hopped onto the bed, wiggling so hard that he almost fell off. This morning however, was different. The wiggles, the kisses and the pure joy and excitement at [for me, a NOT morning person] just another 6 AM was as it always is.
It is Saint’s third birthday! *Wags, wiggles, and woohoos all around*
We showered him with pets and kisses and cuddles [not unlike every morning] but we bounced out of bed faster than normal to give him his birthday present, which we’d hidden in his toy box ever since he picked it out himself at the pet store a few days ago.
And the incessant squeaking of the new, stuffy whale, was a welcome and joy-filled sound that echoed throughout the house … all day …
And all throughout the day, I’ve been reflecting on the gift that Saint is to me. But as with all blessings so big, I don’t believe I’ll be able to fully appreciate it as much as I ought; the gift that he is in my life is simply too great. But I will always try.
But more than a simple “Saint is wonderful” post, I want to acknowledge and thank the people that made it possible for me to celebrate these milestones with my happy boy.
I received a touching email this evening from one of Saint’s puppy raisers, wishing him a happy third birthday, and it filled me with such a thankfulness, but also an unexpected bittersweetness that it’s hard to put into words. On the one hand, I’m incredibly grateful for these two women who, during their university years, dedicated months to raising a yellow lab puppy with boundless energy in the hopes that he’d one day be someone’s four-legged tool for independence, safety, and freedom. And I’m beyond thankful that that someone is me.
But on the other hand, I can’t imagine the mix of emotions puppy raisers must experience with each pup that enters their homes for a year, and then returns for training and eventually, to a forever home that is not the one who got them to that point. What kind of emotions swirl about in their hearts as they write an email to their baby boy’s new mom, knowing that it’s where he belongs and what he was meant for, all the while feeling the sadness of not having him close as they once did?
Guide dogs wouldn’t be possible without puppy raisers. My Saint wouldn’t be possible, wouldn’t be the wiggling, energetic, hard-working, blessing that he is, without his puppy raisers. He wouldn’t even be in my life without them, and so many more people that I can’t begin to list them here.
So, even though Saint jumps up on my bed, guides me to all the local coffee shops, keeps me safe in the world and gives me the unconditional love that only a dog can, he is not just mine. He is forever in the hearts of his puppy raisers. He is always in the memories of his trainers, the volunteers, and all those who have loved him, taken care of him, and prepared him for his life as a guide dog. He will always be a part of the Guide Dogs for the Blind family.
I may be his handler and forever mom, but I am the last in a long line to love him. And he wouldn’t be here without all those who came before me. So while Saint is the best boy ever [and I could write that post if you need], this is one moment that I want to say thank you to everyone who brought him here to me.
And there is no way I can say thank you enough.
If you’d like to donate or volunteer with GDB and make a difference in the lives of people with sight loss, as well as life-changing dogs like Saint, please check out GDB’s website to find out more.