by Donna Miller
TRIBUTE TO TORREY
TO MY BELOVED TORREY, THE OLD STATESMAN!
It's Morning! I stand by my breakfast bar and run my finger gently across a plate on a little wooden box. I whisper good morning to the contents of the box. The leash in my hand dangles and thenit's 1991 again!
I'm sitting on a bed in another place. Leader Dogs for the Blind! I wait.
The time is one PM. The Date, August 28, and the day, Wednesday!
I sit holding the new leash in my hand. For the last two days I've carried it just about everywhere. I've rolled it in to every conceivable shape and then stretched it out again. I needed to get the scent of my hands on it. Surely I'd done that.
I listen to the shoes and claws of dogs as they pass my room. "Not you! Not you!" click the claws in defiance and the shoes trod their silent agreement.
"I swear! Nothing in the world is slower than time" I whine to my roommate. Susan seems so calm. She's waiting for her first dog.
Suddenly a pair of shoes enters my room and stop at Susan's bedside. "Give me your leash" Dan says. "I'll return with your dog in a minute." He leaves the room and I sulk.
More shoes and claws pass my room with the same message. "Not you! Not you!"
This is the fourth time I've done this. Each time dragged on forever. My dog would never come!
"If you give me that leash I'll attach your dog to it!" I almost jump out of my shoes. Keith McGregor laughs as he takes the leash from me and starts across the room. "You were deep in thought!"
"I reckon. This is my fourth time doing this."
Eternity passes and suddenly there's a cold wet nose in my hand. My eyes fill with tears. He stands there wagging his tail and suddenly rises and puts both front legs around my neck and pulls my head down on his furry shoulder. We hug each other and I send a prayer Heavenward. And the partnership began.
What a dog Torrey was. He took each thing in stride and was always ready for the next adventure.
"You'll start noticing little things about your dog when he finally bonds with you" we were told and the point was made clear to me two days later.
We stood in the relief area. It was early morning and no dog seemed to want to do his little bit for the environment.
Torrey raised his head and sniffed the air and then he did a strange thing. He walked around me and peed a perfect ring. He stopped exactly where he'd started and looked at Colleen Mullen.
"I've never seen a dog do that before!" She was truly surprised.
I knew he was special from that day on. I learned he could be kind, he could be fun loving, and he could get indignant and make a statement.
When my roommate left the day before me with her dog he walked around her bed and left no doubt he was King of the room and there was no mistake.
As Dave Hines cleaned up the evidence he suggested I not let him loose any more.
Everyone loved him. He seemed to be able to make friends with everyone. Even people who didn't like dogs thought he was great and he was invited in to many homes where normally dogs would never step.
The one thing that seemed to stand out in everyone's mind was the way he'd cross his feet when he'd lie down next to me on the floor or the ground. He'd stretch his right leg straight out and his left leg would come across his right one. Sometimes he'd cross his feet halfway up and when I'd touch them it would remind me of a pair of scissors.
When he was really comfortable, he'd stretch out his right leg full length and bring his left leg all the way to his chest and lay his paw across his right leg.
And that's how he became the Old Statesman. All he needed was a pipe. But the Old Statesman stuck with him.
We were never separated one night in our eleven years together. During our partnership, he got his leash caught on a barber chair and spun me around to the delight of two small children.
On July 13, 2001, he went for help when I fell over an embankment and brought a man back to help me stand up and climb up the little hill.
He didn't like to be hugged and when a friend of mine insisted on hugging him, he bumped her chin with the top of his head and sent her false teeth skidding across the store floor.
And on August 22, 2002, he watched the guard change from him to a new dog.
On September 29, he left my house for the last time. He begged me not to go but he did. I felt and still do feel I totally betrayed him.
It took a month but I finally got him to his destination. He arrived at Janice White's home on November second.
It was never meant for him to stay there. He became ill almost immediately.
I blink back tears when I think of the loving little Lab puppy who offered him a Christmas sock to play with and when he realized he couldn't play he laid it by his head for Torrey to use as a pillow. Dear sweet Abe was such a caring dog.
And Janice! She sat with him and cared for him. And on November 4, 2002, he was helped to leave for the Rainbow Bridge by her caring vet.
My hand moves across the plaque on the box. But there's something cold touching me.
I open time's library and find the shelf designated for my memories. I mentally slide my newest box on the shelf with Thunder, Buffy, and Jeremy. I slide the door closed.
But something's touching my hand. It's cold and it's wet.
I'm standing in the living room by the breakfast bar and Little Abe is nudging me and the leash dangling there. A noise comes out of his throat. "Mama?"
I almost jump and lean down to hug the little body so close to me. He understands. He wags his tail and I return the leash to the bedroom once again.
In the living room, I lift his leash and snap it lovingly on the collar of the little black Lab. He wiggles with anticipation.
We step out in to the morning air and I look ahead to the next years that will seem like days. We'll have our adventures.
I think to myself. All I have to do is return to the area of time designated for me. I'll call and Torrey will come running to relive an adventure or an event. He'll stay as long as needed and then return to the Rainbow Bridge to wait.
And Abe? He'll come and advise him about things and he'll watch him through the years.
I bury Torrey in my heart.
I return to the house to finish getting ready for work. I touch the box as I go by and say thank you to the contents within and the people who helped me through a difficult time.
I smile as I pick up Abe's harness handle. The door closes behind us and I lock it.
"Abe, forward!" I say quietly to the little dog beside me. We walk toward the breezeway entrance and new adventures.
Torrey was born October 30, 1989 and passed away November 4, 2002. He conducted himself with dignity wherever we went and represented Leader Dogs with flawless behavior. He was loved by many who normally didn't like dogs and won the hearts of many who didn't understand those of us who use guides.
Thank you Leader Dogs for a wonderful dog that gave me independence for eleven wonderful years.
Donna Miller
November 18, 2002 TRIBUTE TO TORREY. All rights reserved.