Lessons From a Springer Spaniel

"Cross Creek First Strike," a field trained, AKC registered, English Springer Spaniel came to live with us in the fall of 1998. She was about nine months old and was a blur of energy, who answered to “Strike.” Until the evening we brought her home, she’d lived with a breeder, who housed his dogs in a big old barn. She’d never walked on a leash, and had never been housebroken. Being a smart pooch, she caught on quickly.

Ironically, this bundle of energy, who ran like the wind, would come to a screeching halt at the foot of the stairs in our old house. Being a teacher, I took up the challenge of teaching Strike to climb stairs. I finally realized that it was the “big picture” that frightened her—that whole flight of stairs. So, I sat on the second step from the bottom and coaxed her up to me. All she could see was the step below me, and of course the petting that came when she climbed up to me. Then I’d move up a step and repeat the coaxing and petting. This continued until I’d scooted up all the steps and Strike was on the second floor. I think I repeated this exercise a second night and then she was scampering up on her own.

So the literal lesson is that when the big picture scares us, just take one step at a time. And those big, scary tasks are much easier with a little coaching and rewards.

Anyone who’s ever met Strike comments on her frantically wagging tail. When she was younger it was funny to watch her wagging tail almost knock her off her feet. It’s impossible to watch that tail without grinning.

Happiness is contagious, the more ridiculous, the more contagious.

In the last 13 years, Carroll & I have NEVER slept through a thunderstorm, because Strike is terrified of them. The only thing that helps the shivering and shaking is to be cuddled between “her people.” Even now that she’s too frail to jump onto the bed, Carroll will lift her up so that we can calm her.

Being surrounded by your people helps weather any storm that comes your way.

As Strike as aged, she’s become very comfortable under our desks during the day. It gets comical when you have to shake her so that her snores can’t be heard on our phone calls. Some days we have to wake her up to go out for a noon “run.” But on days when our little granddaughter is with us, you’d think that Strike was a puppy again. She’s right in the middle of Katherine’s activities, and seldom leaves her side.

Little kids are good for us, and bring out the puppy in us all.

Now, in her old age, Strike has severe arthritis in her hips and rear legs. She takes multiple medications, but her “caboose” collapses pretty regularly. Our home has hardwood floors. Ever feeling the need for speed, Strike gets going pretty fast before her rear end gives out—but the momentum keeps her going, front legs running, rear-end sliding. She’s developed a comical run/slide/crash manner of movement. At first glance it’s so sad to see her struggle. But as you watch her, you begin to see a fearless adaptation to unavoidable limitation. Oh yeah, the tail’s still wagging.

A positive spirit, good humor and a wagging tail can overcome almost anything. 

When I’m grumpy, feeling miserable, Strike is ready for a cuddle and pet. In fact, over the years, when I’ve been sick, she insisted on staying right next to me until I felt better. There are some days when we’re just crazy busy and barely have time for Strike. It doesn’t matter, she’s there to greet us when we get home, happily wagging that tail in joyful greeting.

The love of a good friend is unconditional, even stronger when you’re at your lowest.