I get several messages a day from people worried about Bud and Fate, something new and puzzling for me.

I’m not sure I can imagine how the lives of these three beautiful dogs could be much better, but it’s perhaps something I should address directly.

The messages are suggesting in growing numbers that Bud and Fate are being pushed aside and abandoned for the cute and charismatic Zinnia.

Sometimes I feel Dr. Phil should come and hang out on the farm. He loves questions like these. I don’t care for them much.

Am I paying attention to Bud or neglected him now that a puppy is here? Am I “giving up” on Fate as a therapy dog? Do I love Zinnia more than my other dogs? And oh yes, my “release” commands for Zinnia in her training are inconsistent, I need to start a new narration on my videos.

In this kind of life and this kind of world, I am quite used to second-guessing, projecting, emotionalizing, and just plain bad manners. It seems my business is everyone’s business, and it seems I’m asking for it, and just need to suck it up.

I understand that many people don’t read my golden words; they look at Facebook headlines. So once in a while, it’s good to explain things.

Soon the crazy ones will be writing to my breeder warning that I am unfit to have a dog at all. I am ruthless.  it seems, happy to sacrifice my dogs at a moment’s notice for a blog post.

So  I might save people some trouble and also let off some steam by explaining a few things about my dogs now. I am learning that it is better, to be honest than annoyed or angry. Sometimes, it even works. It’s worth a try.

First off, Fate. Fate is Maria’s dog, not mine. She was not trained to be a therapy dog or raised to be a therapy dog. She is a farm dog and Maria’s constant companion and canine soul mate. She has a wonderful life, walks in woods, working (sort of) with sheep, hanging out with Maria, riding along with her into town, sunning herself and playing in the yard,  ball-chasing workouts in the pasture, a big soft bed by the fire.

She rarely, if ever, comes into my study. She likes to be with Maria. Or by herself.

Once or twice a week I will continue to take her to the Mansion, she does very well there, especially for the more active residents. She has formed some close attachments there and I will keep those going.

But the relationship between therapy and his or her human is intimate and intense. And very personal. I don’t want to have two full-time therapy dogs to train, watch, and work continuously. Here, consistency is critical. And it would be a disservice to both dogs. Each therapy dog works on different commands, impulses, instincts.

I bring the dog best suited to the people I am trying to help. Fate will not be a full-time therapy dog.  She is too restless for long-term therapy work, too excitable.  She is an outdoor working dog, she needs a lot of freedom, movement and exercise.

She gets bored too quickly and has not been trained from puppyhood for this work, as Zinnia is being. Zinnia has, as I hoped, the perfect temperament for therapy work. She is affectionate, unflappable, calm. A loud noise sends Fate leaping into the air, a dangerous trait in therapy work. As long as I am close and vigilant, I can keep an eye on it. But long stretches of calm are not her nature.

I won’t use Fate in therapy work because people who don’t know her like the feeling of it.

Fate needs watching; she impulsively jumps up and is very distractable.  She trawls for garbage, pulls stuff out of cans, and sneaks snacks off the tables. She also adores people and can connect with them.

Some residents are right for her; some are not. She will never be a great, totally trustworthy therapy dog. She could never get certified.

The amount of therapy work she does do will be my call and Maria’s call, not people out in the ether who think the life of dogs is a Disney movie.

Good therapy dogs don’t arise because we love them, it takes a lot of work and good fortune.

She is not getting “dumped” or “abandoned,” she is not depressed or feeling left out. I wish every border collie in the world could have the life Fate has on this farm with Maria.

Secondly, Bud. He is a family dog. He has no interest in therapy work. In the winter, he likes to be inside by the woodstove fire. He comes into town with us on errands and rides upfront, which he loves.

He gets treats at the bank drive-in almost every day and many more at home. He gets the best medical care, the best food, and a lap whenever he wants or needs one. He has a nearly full-time playmate, and a big fenced in yard to run and hunt mice and moles.

In warmer weather, he loves to sit out in the yard and stare out at the world.

Sometimes he hangs out with Zinnia and me in my study; most often, he can be found chewing on a marrow bone (yes, he has a steady stream of fresh marrow bones) by the fire. He is a safe, happy and much-loved dog.

He is the only dog who gets to sleep in our bedroom and hop into bed when he wants to snuggle up.

Bud gets as much love and attention as he wants or needs. He is living the life he deserves. There is no longer any fear or pain in it.  I do not love Bud, in the same way I loved Red or am coming to love Zinnia. I am not a dog communist; I don’t love every0ne equally.

But I love him a lot, and  Maria loves him even more, he will always have a safe and loving home here. He spends a good portion of his life in Maria’s lap, especially at night. When I nap, he naps with me, on my stomach or chest.  He always comes on rides with me. That is all special to me.

I will never regret rescuing him; I will never turn away from him.

Zinnia.

From the first, I have written that I was looking for a therapy dog to replace the fantastic Red. I have always said it would be a Lab; I shared every detail of finding the right therapy dog – the breed, the breeder, the challenges, the process.

I spent a lot of money to find and acquire the calmest, best bred and most promising therapy dog, I have invested many houses in training and socializing her, and introducing her to the Mansion and Bishop Maginn High School people slowly and carefully.

She lives and works under the watchful eyes of a small army of self-righteous busybodies, the clucking, angry hordes of digital hornets who don’t have enough to do.

I always said Fate was an excellent but temporary choice. I was surprised and pleased with the work she did and hope to use her in that way occasionally. For a therapy dog to be good and trustworthy, they need to do it all the time. Fate was never intended to be my full-time therapy dog, nor did I ever once describe her in that way.

How, I wonder, could it possibly be that so many people are shocked and disturbed that Zinnia will be my primary therapy dog, as I have said she will be, as I have trained her to be, as I want her to be?  She is the right choice for that work, calm and grounded and trainable.

That’s why she’s here. Why would I abandon that project because of Fate also likes people and people like her?

I write about Zinnia a lot now because it is fun and because I am not stupid. People in high numbers are following her story. This is what I do. I write about things people care about, and I care about them.

This is a particular time in Zinnia’s life. It is her moment, and I intend to do justice to that, it is a rare opportunity for me. I don’t get a new puppy every day. And I am no puppy myself.

Zinnia is adorable. She is appealing. She is new.

She is in training for meaningful work.

That narrative changes all the time, and when it changes, my writing will reflect it.

Please do not expect this soap opera way of looking at dogs from me. It is not me

Despite the inevitable bumps, I am grateful for the interest in my dogs, I relish it and promote it, and it helps support my life and work.

If you love Fate and Zinnia and Bud, then be happy for them. My goal is always to give every one of my dogs the best possible life. That’s what I have always done and will always do.

Please be mindful of your boundaries and mine. These dogs do not live life to sustain the emotional lives of other people. I hope you find them exciting and continue to follow them. I share my life; I don’t turn it over to other people to live for me.

And I don’t spend too much time answering questions like these, from now on, I will ignore them.  

I  hope this helps people understand what is happening in the lives of my dogs. Someone suggested I am too good at what I do. I don’t know what that means.

Thanks for listening.