Walking out of the CCI center last night, Steve felt that a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. I shared the sensation. It’s hard to imagine that any Hollywood screenwriter could dream up a more promising ending for a movie about a valiant aspiring service dog whose career had suddenly been derailed by kidney disease.
We had arrived at the center shortly after 4:30 pm, and Beverly’s trainer, Stephanie, soon appeared with Beverly at the end of a bright blue leash. It took our girl a moment to recognize us; then she wagged her tail vigorously. She looked svelte and perky, despite her recent spay surgery. While we waited for Beverly’s new adoptive mother to arrive, Steve and I chatted with the ardent young woman who had wanted to make Beverly a member of her own family. Stephanie was bright and warm-hearted in person as she had appeared in her Facebook messages to me. Her heart was breaking at the imminent prospect of saying goodbye to Beverly, but she also seemed comforted by the vision of how perfect life with Dr. Georgette Shields might be.
We learned that the veterinarian had recently provided foster care for a female selected to be a CCI breeder who was waiting to be sent up to northern California. Impressed by that dog’s impeccable behavior, Dr. Shields had expressed an interest in adopting a release dog. When she heard about Beverly’s availability, the news of her malfunctioning kidneys apparently didn’t sour her interest. Soon a tall, slender woman wearing medical scrubs strode in, accompanied by a little Cavalier King Charles Spaniel — the other member of Beverly’s new pack-to-be.
Beverly seemed intensely interested, and Ewok (just 11 months old) flopped down and showed Beverly her belly (as if any display of subservience was necessary!)
Stephanie, overwhelmed by emotion, soon fled, but Steve and I chatted with Beverly’s mom-to-be. We learned that she works at the highly respected Veterinary Speciality Hospital, at their North County branch.
(Later, on the drive home, we googled her and learned that she’s a specialist in radiology). She told us she planned to do a scan of Beverly’s kidneys the very next day.
More than any medical expertise that she can share with Beverly, her evident kindness and good humor impressed us. We were aware that she had agreed to meet us, a break with CCI’s normal protocol (in which folks who adopt release dogs normally do not meet with the puppy-raisers.)
We found it very comforting, though, and when the time came to say goodbye, neither Steve nor I wept. As for Beverly, she looked as serene as always. We expect that her new family will come to love that as much as we have.