Growing up Stella

Stella is 7 months old, and when she grows up, she will become a therapy dog. She will comfort those in need, she will sit politely to be petted. She will give gentle doggy kisses to hospitalized children who reach out to pet her. She will rest her head quietly on the lap of nursing home residents, scratching her wistfully behind her ears as they think of bygone days and dogs they too had once owned. She will listen quietly to people telling their stories, good memories, sad memories, old longings that they recall as they look into her soft brown eyes.

That will be some day, but that day is still far away.

Today she is still an untamed force of nature. Intensity and wildness and excitement and thrills. Today we went down to the river in the valley. My sister, my son Robert and his girlfriend Caitie, and their dog Rosie, a pitbull, we all met at the river to watch the dogs play. What greater fun than to watch two dogs playing in the water, chasing sticks, racing to be the first to grab it?!

Stella is a Labrador Retriever. She loves water and she loves to retrieve - endlessly! I lost count how many sticks she swam out to get. Sometimes she ventured far from the shore to retrieve a stick that was slowly floating away with the current. A mad leap into the water, then doggy swim as fast as she could. You could feel her sense of jubilation “I got it! I got it! I am bringing it back.” A mad rush out to retrieve, then a slow swim back with the prize firmly gripped in her teeth, dropping it on shore, then dashing back and forth ready to retrieve the next one. Jumping with excitement for the next stick, impulsive and uncontrolled. Leaping straight up into the air, a goat on the fly, to catch the stick that was poised to be thrown.

The sticks that Rosie had were even more thrilling, the two of them swimming out as fast as they could, each trying to be the first. When Rosie got there first and grabbed the stick, Stella was right there, next to her, grabbing it too, the two of them swimming, holding the stick cheek to cheek, each wanting to maintain control and be the one to bring it to shore.

Then Stella came upon the dried out carcass of a fish. An appetizing morsel? She grabbed it and was off, quick as the wind, trying to dodge our attempts to catch her. Dodge to the left, then to the right, between us, behind us, around us. A thrilling game of catch while holding a delightfully stinky fish carcass.

“Stella, come!” Dodge to the left. “Stella, drop it!” Tight grip on the carcass. “Stella, come!” Dodge to the right, running like the wind along the river. “Stella, come right now!” Doubling on her track to avoid us. I finally caught her and convinced her to give me the carcass, her doggy face a picture of laughter, “Wasn’t that fun, how you chased me? Do it again! Do it again!”

“Never chase a dog if you are trying to get something from them because they will think it’s a game.” A good rule, but in this one instance, with the smile on her face, the chase was worth it. Probably set us back weeks in our training goals.

Then more dashing after sticks, her technique improving each time she swam out. Repeat again and again, until all the humans present were exhausted.

One day, when the wildness is tamed, Stella will be a therapy dog.