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From Chapter Three - The Other Dogs in the Room

Beau was short for Beauregard. Which was short for Pierre Beauregard. Which was short for Pierre LaPierre Beauregard. Beau was the real deal, a pure-bred pedigreed poodle with all the papers to prove it, as French as the Eiffel Tower or a croque monsieur. He was decked out in ribbons and bows when he landed at the Seattle-Tacoma Airport. The trip from New Orleans hadn't been easy. Once he'd been de-crated, Beau got into the back seat of the car with Sally, who tried to calm a very nervous dog down as they drove home to Bellevue, a suburb across Lake Washington from Seattle.

From Chapter Three - The Other Dogs in the Room

After a few months of observing Phoebe's excitement every time she encountered the dogs, our next-door neighbor Cheryl asked me if we might like to have Riley and Jessie come over to our house for a trial visit. We accepted. For Phoebe it was like a dream play date, with the dogs loping up the stairs to her room and tearing back down for a romp around the main floor and then back upstairs again. The play dates continued in the months and years ahead. For Sally and me they served a dual purpose. It was both fun to have a couple of lively and thrillingly large animals in the house (for a limited time) and very effective as a dog-delaying strategy.

From Chapter Six - Home Makeover

"Dogs are just like us, Daddy," Phoebe instructed me. "They need to feel confident and feel good about themselves. We have to do everything we can to help." She'd been hearing that sort of message about the values of empathy and community since kindergarten and apparently learned it well. If it was true about people, why not about dogs?



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