“My Problem Named Elliott”
I have a problem. Elliott. What a name. Wait a minute, that’s not my name. I’m a self-respecting cat and no self-respecting cat would waste even one of his nine lives wearing such a silly name on its collar.

Elliott’s the name of my problem.

A flop-eared, tail-waggling, drool machine and a problem that didn’t give me a moment’s peace since he stumbled into my life.

Everybody knows that cats have first claim on the warmest spot in the house for curling up on cold winter nights. My spot’s on the bricks in front of the fireplace. Nothing feels better on my achy bones than to spread out all over those bricks after the human finally finishes fooling around and gets a decent fire going.

The night you know who arrived, he introduced himself by barging into the den. He then proceeded to hal slurp, half nuzzle me right into the fire. I lost a good night’s rest patting out blazes and licking my fur coat back into shape.

And that dog got away without so much as a singed snout. The humans fell all over one another, making sure he was okay.

This Elliott came equipped with radar. No matter where I hid, he found me. Under a pile of leaves outside or snuggled beneath a mountain of quilts inside, he’d nose me out. Then, the humiliating stuff would begin. He liked carrying me to the middle of the room where he’d toss me in the air like I was one of the gazillion toys the humans cluttered the house with. Then after I bounced off the ceiling a few times, he’d get bored and start his chasing routine.

Funny thing is, he never hurt me, even carrying me around in that slobbery mouth. He was always very gentle, even after I gave him a good poke in the snout. Come to think of it, he was a lot harder on those toys. Most of them have been torn to shreds. Then after abusing me all day, he’d curl himself around me on the floor at night to keep me warm and safe…now that we’re sharing the bricks in front of the fire.

Do you think that dog thinks I’m his mother?

One night, as we sprawled before the fire, Elliott snoring and wiggling his way through puppy dreams, I listened to the human talk the way I always do whenever the conversation is “the animals”, meaning us, I suppose.

I learned that Elliott is training to be a Seeing Eye guide dog. The notion of that drool fool one day working as the guiding eyes for a sight-impaired human gives me the willies. Makes me sort of proud too.

That also explains why the humans keep close tabs on him.

It’s why he’d sleep by the human’s bedside instead of in a kennel outside. It’s why he never ate table scraps the way your run of the puppy mill mooch pooch does. It’s also why he couldn’t get away with the usual annoying dog shenanigans that humans thinks are so cute, like begging and barking and shaking hands and whining for attention. One of the humans even got permission for Elliott to go with her to her work every day!

The dog had to work too. They were always trying to teach him to obey commands and walk properly. Every day, they took him for long walks, which I liked because it gives me run of the house and I could catch a catnap in the human’s favorite chair, the one I’m not allowed on.

Come to think of it, the only time Elliot was allowed to let loose was when he was bothering me.

One afternoon, I heard the car pull up the same as it always does when the humans come home from work. Usually, I get to stretch my legs a bit before dinner thanks to Elliott who always bolts into the den and commences chasing me for a few laps around the house.

But that afternoon there was no Elliott.

After getting the humans organized doing their most important afternoon chores, namely feeding and grooming me, I hopped onto the windowsill to see what was keeping the drooler. As night fell, it became obvious that he wasn’t coming home.

I learned from the human’s small talk that Elliott had been called up to Seeing Eye’s Guide Dog School in Morristown, New Jersey. His formal training would take place there.

I’d never see him again.

That night, I had the bricks all to myself. The fire blazed and I stretched myself out luxuriously. But I felt a chill. Something was missing.

Next morning, the humans fed me and fussed all over me but I kept looking over my shoulder, expecting somebody to live things up.

A week went by and I got lazier as the pace grew slow and tedious, the way cats usually like it.

But you see, I have a problem named Elliott. My problem is, I miss him.

(Elliott’s a black Lab, raised by the Rebmann family, members of PPAWS, People and Puppies at Work for Sight, 4H club in Cape May County. Elliott is currently working. The Rebmanns are presently raising, Kelly. Yeah, she’s a black Lab too.)

From a Puppy Raiser named Linda:
I wanted to thank The Seeing Eye for providing me with a wonderful experience. My name is Linda and I am an adult puppy raiser in PA. Yesterday, our beautiful Kassidy, a Golden retriever, returned to The Seeing Eye after spending 54 weeks with us. We still have Finna, our third Seeing Eye puppy who is a five-month old German shepherd. Today, as I am sitting here feeling very sad about missing dear Kassidy, I received the latest issue of The Seeing Eye Guide in the mail. After reading the wonderful articles about graduates of the program and how their lives have been transformed by receiving their dog guides, I have gone from sadness to feeling incredibly grateful that I have been allowed to be a part of this work. Reading The Guide reminded me that rather than losing a wonderful canine friend, I have spent the year providing her with the greatest opportunity an animal can have and allowing someone out there to share her life. Thank you so much for this honor. I feel very privileged.

From a Puppy Raiser named Stefanie:
Being involved in this program has taught me a lot about volunteering your time and giving of yourself. There is more involved in the program than the superficial. You learn a lot about yourself and the people around you. The program has allowed me to develop my leadership skills by giving demonstrations with my puppy and informing the public about The Seeing Eye. I have learned to show compassion to others and to help others to reach a goal.

These are just some of the many ways that my life has changed because of the Puppy Raising Program. I have learned dedication, discipline, and how to follow things through. I have learned how to take on responsibility, and how to show compassion to others.

From a Puppy Raiser named Krystin:
I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for selecting me as one of your recipients of a $1,000 scholarship from The Seeing Eye. My family and I have enjoyed the opportunity you have given us in raising 10 Seeing Eye puppies. It has provided us with great experiences and a real sense of pride and satisfaction knowing that we have helped many blind people.

From Puppy Raisers named Alice and Sue:
Thank you for giving us the opportunity as puppy raisers to raise six Seeing Eye puppies so far.  My sister and I are adult puppy raisers.  Sara, our second Seeing Eye puppy, was a breeder for The Seeing Eye for two years.  Sara had four litters of puppies – 33 puppies in all.  We were so happy we had the opportunity to raise two of Sara’s puppies.

Sara was retired last August, and we were just so happy we were offered Sara back.  She is our little angel of life.  We love her so much. Sara is now a great therapy dog.  She is a reading dog at a school where children read to dogs.  Sara is also a universal blood donor.  She has given four pints of blood, and one pint can save four dogs.  We are now raising our sixth puppy.  We are hoping and praying she will become a person’s eyes.  It is just so rewarding to raise one of these special puppies.