Lenore at a train station in New Jersey, awaiting commuters to greet

February 11, 2008 – Cold, sunny. But not storming. Six months ago, I decided to get a puppy from a great breeder, Gretchen Pinkel of Kee-Pin Labradors, Argyle, N.Y. I was not, of course, looking for a dog at the time, but when I went to see Gretchen’s new litter, not far from the farm, I locked onto this dopey little puppy who was giving me the eye, and who seemed to radiate calm and affection.
   I’ve written that there are Lifetime Dogs in our lives, dogs that mark a period in our lives. A friend challenged me on this, saying there could be more than one Lifetime dog, and he was right. Orson, who led me to the farm, was a Lifetime Dog. So was Rose, who helps me live here. So is Izzy, who has led me to Hospice work and other powerful endeavors.
  Lifetime Dogs mark your life, and the periods that shape it. For me, other dogs are great, but sometimes, I find, they are better off and happier in other homes, and I part with them, sending them off to better lives. Not so with the Lifetime Dogs (yes, you can have more than one). They stay.
  Lenore, I think, will be such a dog. We are having a great love affair. When I got her, I was having a challenging time, and I’ve noticed that Lenore is one of those dogs who is always near me, always keeping an eye on me, always happy to crawl into my lap and gnaw on my hand or face. I call her the Light. You cannot look at her without smiling or feeling better.
  She is one of those dogs, like Izzy (Rose is not like that) who are comfortable in their own skin, and can enter any space at any time and be at ease there. Lenore goes to readings, into schools, stores, rides in cars and is at ease in New Jersey (above waiting for commuters at a train, which she loves) as she is on the farm, noodling around the goats or sheep. Mostly, she just wants to hang around with me, which is great by me. Lately, she has been accompanying Izzy and I on my photo shoots, hours of driving around the countryside. Lenore rides shotgun, sitting in the front seat, hopping out when I get out to take pictures, hopping back in when I am did. She watches me, tilts her head when I do strange things, and our relationship has blossomed into a great love affair.
  It’s easy to forget that Lenore is a working dog, and part of her job has been shadowing me, taking responsibility for my moodiness, getting me to  laugh and roll my eyes a dozen times a day. This weekend, I took Lenore to New Jersey to see Paula and Lenore slipped into this routine as easily as she faces life. She sat by the train, went into bookstores, sat in the car while I shopped, chased a ball in a park, and lit up a bunch of dog-loving people and kids. We went back to my old dog haunts – where I walked Julius and Stanley, and chased Orson around the neighborhood. Lenore tagged along as if she had grown up there. She sleeps by my feet, hangs out by my computer, watches me as if I were a rawhide bone. Everytime I say, “Hey, Lenore,” she comes bounding over for some cuddling, and I end up smiling. I love smiling.
  There are many ways to have a great dog, and they often evolve and change. Rose’s greatness comes from her ferocious work ethic – she is not at home off of the farm. She is in a class by herself.
  One of my criteria, one of the most spiritual things about having a dog for me, is the ability to bring the dog anywhere into my life and trust them to be there. With Lenore, I am slowly coming to appreciate that she is powerfully attached to me, and that I have become her work, and this dog’s work is love and companionship, one of the hallmark traits of the well-bred Labrador. Lenore is the light, and a gift, and, it seems, my newest Lifetime Dog. How fortunate I am to have several. And, like Izzy and Rose, I am eager to see where this dog leads me.