Dear Dolly,

Let me start out by telling you what a big fan I am so that you will understand why I am so miffed. My owner Doc left me at home while she went with her friends to see your “Pure and Simple” tour that came through town. Her excuse was that dogs aren’t allowed at concerts.  I told her if you knew how much I love you, you would have made an exception, but she wouldn’t change her mind. Excuse me, as I do digress from what I really want to ask you, so here goes.

Dolly, I have earned some vacation time at work and think it would be a great idea if I traveled with you on your tour bus for a while. I imagine that you probably get lonely out on the road and could use a faithful companion that knows how to keep his mouth shut and just listen. Just imagine us riding in the back of the bus, you singing some of your songs like Jolene and I could howl along.

Another advantage with having me along is that I could act as a body-guard when overzealous fans or creepy people try to get too close to you. Even though I am a therapy dog, I do have a deep low growl I use when needed. People would think twice about trying to get by a big black 83 pound dog. Or, I could guard your wig collection and all your rhinestones while you are on stage performing. I imagine there are quite a few people who would like to score one of Dolly Parton’s wigs or outfits for themselves.

The biggest reason I want to spend time with you is that I could use some of your great home spun advice. I really need your input on how to manage Doc when she gets too bossy with me. I have heard you say that ” We cannot direct the wind, but we can adjust the sails, ” but I think her sails might be too big to adjust no matter what I try. Maybe having some time apart will help, especially if she sees that a pretty blonde like yourself might have a permanent job for me.

Well Dolly, give it some thought and let me know. I can be ready whenever you need me because I pack light. Even if you can’t take me along this time I will understand. You will always be my favorite country star.

Love, Grover

Even though the Rio Olympics have finished, I am left in awe of what the athletes accomplished and now I feel inspired to win my own gold medal for best therapy dog and Doc’s most faithful companion.

One of the things that inspired me the most were the personal stories they told about the athletes and their journeys to get to the top of their sports. When you see the athletes smiling proudly, dressed in their country’s uniform, you can forget that some of them suffered great personal obstacles and failure along the way to achieving their dreams. The common thread among the athletes is that they never gave up, never gave in to negativity, kept moving forward even when they failed and surrounded themselves with people who believed in them. This is a good motto to live by no matter what you are trying to accomplish in life.

Often I hear Doc tell her patient’s not to let other people’s opinions define who they are. You have to feel like you deserve to be a winner. Allowing yourself to dream big doesn’t cost you anything and may change the direction of your life. Then, putting those desires into action by working hard every day without making excuses, puts you one step closer to your goal.

When I was training to become a therapy dog, it took a lot of work on my part as well as Doc’s. I know there were some days that both Doc and I doubted ourselves, but we stuck together and also had people in our lives that believed in our goal. I will never forget the day we passed the final test and I became a fully registered therapy dog. That was such a proud day for us both.

As I continue on my journey to improve my skills, I will continue reaching for my own gold. Doc agrees and says along with winning a gold medal for best therapy dog and faithful companion, she would also award me a gold medal for best nap taker. You know, I love Doc, but sometimes she can be a real wisenheimer.

There may come a time when you need to banish all of the wicked witches and flying monkeys from your life. What does that mean you ask? Well let me tell you a story about learning to surrender to your truth, just like Dorothy did in The Wizard of Oz.

Being a therapy dog, I listen to many people talk about their lives. On this particular day, a patient had told Doc about a big life lesson they had recently learned. Since childhood, Doc’s patient had allowed herself to be forced into roles and pigeon- holed into being anything but her authentic self. “I didn’t even know who I really was anymore, I just did what people expected so they would like me.” she said.

That path of pleasing others eventually led down the dark road to addiction. Then the addiction led to being with people she didn’t like, participating in behaviors she didn’t really want to do and trying to cover it all up by being high, so she wouldn’t have to think about any of it. She was lost.

As often happens with addiction, life got really ugly. One day she just couldn’t stand the pain any more so she sought treatment. That’s where Doc and I came in. As part of the treatment team, it was Doc and my job to listen and help to guide her back to her true self again. It was tough for her at first, she struggled, sometimes she was resistant, but she stuck with it.

First she got rid of the people in her life that wanted her to stay sick, then she got on her feet and got a job, apartment and a car. As she gained confidence she learned to say no. It wasn’t always easy, in fact recovery can be painful at times and the witches and the flying monkeys from her past kept trying to lure her back into addiction. But, she was tough, stayed focused and slowly she started getting better.

One day last week she came in to see us and said. “I realized I was still trying to please others by letting people talk me in to doing jobs or favors I did not want to do.” So she quit the job she was not happy in and got a new one she likes. Then she started telling people “no” when she didn’t want to do something. “I realized that if they don’t like who I really am, than they are the one with the problem.”

I thought Doc was going to jump out of her chair she was so proud of what her patient had accomplished. As for myself, I went over and gave her a big lick across the face and thought to myself, “good for you, no more witches or flying monkeys. You finally understand that there’s no place like home.”

You may recall that over a year ago I wrote about the skunk that lives in our neighborhood. We were suckers and let the little stinker go after we had devised a trap and relocation program. We made the big mistake of feeling sorry for Mr. Pepe Le Pew. Well, let me tell you why that was one of dumbest decision that Doc and I have every made.

It was one of those perfect summer nights that you don’t ever want to end. Doc and I were sitting out on the back porch listening to the cacophony of nature’s sounds under the blue moon of late July. All was quiet and peaceful until I noticed some movement off in the distance. Alerting Doc to the danger I barked and howled, bounding off the porch toward the black and white creature that had made his way under the picket fence and into the yard. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Doc jump up out of her chair with a horrified look on her face. She yelled at the top of her lungs “Grover, No!” Too late, I got sprayed in the face. Running back toward the porch for help I saw Doc high- tail it into the house. What the heck? Was she really going to bail on me in my time of need?  Left alone, I rolled all over the grass, rubbing my eyes and could not get the stuff off of me.

Just when I was about to give up on her helping me, Doc emerged from the house and led me to the garage. Being a former girl scout, she was prepared for just this type of emergency. Mixing up some type of anti-skunk smell concoction in a bucket, she bathed me until the stink was gone, dried me off and let me come into the laundry room where she was going to make me sleep for the night. I whimpered from the trauma I had just experienced and Doc must have felt sorry for me as she placed a sheet across the bottom of the bed where I could sleep. Soon we were both off to dream land.

The next morning, checking to make sure the coast was clear, I returned to the scene of the crime. It still stunk to high heaven and so I made a vow to myself and to Doc right then and there. Somehow, some day I will get that skunk and when I do, he will get a one way ticket on a Greyhound bus to that state up north.