As though my life depended on it, I look down to my left ankle where a small fuzzy being with dark chocolate eyes hidden by silky black wavy hair, makes her way slowly next to my left foot . “Watch” I say with a smile in my voice. Then I click and say “Yes.” Her sincere stare indicates that she knows she has done something I want her to do, which pleases her. The click is followed by a piece of dog kibble delivered to her razor sharp teeth along with a heartfelt, “Good girl.” This arduous training sequence accomplished, we set off to repeat it. Time after time I grab her attention. “Oakley, watch.” I wait to see if she will again catch my eyes.
I know that training requires full puppy attention, so when those compelling eyes finally hit my glance I click to teach her that this is the behavior I want and follow with a treat. The tiny pin sharp teeth kindly avoid my fingers, and I say, and mean “Good girl.” And we are off again. Step by tiny step around our office. With each step Oakley learns to watch me, crucial for future training. Little by little I teach Oakley Anderson, our beautiful and brilliant 14-week-old Portuguese water dog, how to be part of our world. And, fully engaged in her training, I lose track of the time. Have we been walking the room for two minutes or five? Have I given her six pieces of kibble, or 15? My attention has been so focused on eye contact between her brown eyes and mine that time has stood still.
As a child, every time someone asked me what I wanted, I said “a puppy.” I said this year after year because no puppy ever appeared for my birthday with a large red bow around her neck. And, when I married at 24, confident in my right to ask for what I needed, I said emphatically, “A puppy.”
My husband balked. “Not until our degrees are finished” became “Not as long as we are doing so much international travel.” By the time I wheedled my way into a pup, I was 40+ and too busy building The Coche Center to take time for training the gorgeous but not too bright golden retriever we finally owned. Not well trained, he became a “doofus” who was considered “lovable” despite his bad habits.
Unswerving in my need for a dog, after my first husband died at age 49, I determined that, should I be fortunate enough to enjoy a second husband, this husband had to be a dog lover. And when John Edward Anderson, who wanted to be a vet as a child, sauntered into my life he was clear that dogs were included in the deal. John stayed in my life.
So it was that I first got to train a pup after I had entered the phase of Second Adulthood. The pup, Whitby Anderson, a beautiful and smart six-month-old Portuguese water dog, graced our lives and The Coche Center for 14 years, doing advanced service work at Children’s Hospital in Philadelphia and brightening the lives of 60 client families monthly. And, after Whitby’s death, we added irresistible Oakley Anderson, who has the vivacity and presence of her namesake, Annie Oakley.
Oakley was named for the pretty, fashionable feminist who could out shoot all the sharp shooters in the west. And since Oakley needs full training, watch me go into full gear, clicker in one hand, treat in the other, teaching this baby how to become a superb canine good citizen.
Training Oakley ranks high on my important activity list. The promise of many fulfilling years ahead motivate me to keep plugging in 10-minute training periods. If ‘you walk into our offices during training time, you will find four brown eyes walking the room looking at one another with each step.
As Oakley learns to maneuver our world, I reap the pleasure of helping her learn. Training Oakley is one of the most engaging projects I could wish for during second adulthood. I have the wisdom to know how to do the training and the activity level to master the task.
To consider: Is there a project you would love to engage in if you only took the time? Might the period of your 50’s, 60’s, 70’s or 80’s be the perfect opportunity to enrich your life? How might you benefit from a period of second adulthood that complements earlier enterprises?
To read: Inventing the Rest of Our Lives: Women in Second Adulthood .Suzanne Braun Levine . Plume, 2005.
Cape May – Governor Murphy says he doesn't know anything about the drones and doesn't know what they are doing but he does know that they are not dangerous. Does anyone feel better now?
