From the moment she arrives at the home of Laura and Marc Abbott, Kalli makes one thing clear: she is much more than “just a dog.”

Manipulating boundaries every step of the way, the brilliant English cocker is always working the system in her favor—whether she’s shifting obedience class rules ever so subtly or charming a forest ranger out of a ticket.

But as hard as she toils to train and mold those around her, Kalli is also determined to make a difference. As a certified therapy dog, she touches countless lives as she engages with troubled teens and stroke survivors.

Kalli: A Spaniel’s Life is a touching and hilarious memoir depicting how a Canine Master Teacher impacts her humans throughout her physical life and beyond the grave.

For sale in paperback and electronic formats

EXCERPT

Of course, the whole world knew about Kalli’s impending arrival. At least, my version of the whole world. I’d been talking about little else for months before we picked her up at Pam’s. Neighbors, friends, family were all primed for the big event. My sister had even offered to host a “baby” shower for me…her acknowledgement of all the money and time Marc and I had spent supporting our friends’ and family members’ babies without having a reciprocal gathering in our own household.

The first friends to encounter Kalli were old college chums with a seven-year-old son. We spent part of the holiday weekend at their house, figuring it was never too early to socialize our puppy. All the books claimed exposing a dog to a new environment broadened its horizon and enabled it to adjust to the “outside” world. It helped that Jerry and Taylor had a puppy-proof enclosed backyard, and the weather was picture perfect. Other than ripping up an ancient golf glove lodged under a drain pipe, Kalli was on her best behavior.

We also noticed magic beginning to build between our puppy and Billy. The little boy had fallen in love with Kalli at first sight. We suspected that Kalli’s attraction to Billy centered on remnants of his latest meal that had eluded the parental damp cloth and still clung to his skin and clothes. Indeed, Billy’s face became her prime target whenever she spotted him. But that was okay. It was a symbiotic relationship. Billy delighted in her attention; she delighted in his leftovers. The sound of her lapping tongue and his giggles still resonate in my head.

Our first turn around the ‘hood didn’t prove to be as idyllic as the afternoon in Jerry and Taylor’s backyard. The walk started out well enough. Kalli accepted the leash with good humor and ate up the attention as neighbors exclaimed over her: “Oh, my God, is she cute! What breed is she?”

Thus was born my “English Cocker 101” speech. Throughout the years, I honed it to a fine point.

Marc and I felt our confidence build in this beautiful young dog with each step we took down the tree-lined sidewalk by our house. Cocky with our decision to adopt such an amazing animal, we were sure we’d won the I-Have-The-Best-Pet-In-The-World lottery. We exchanged smug glances as we noticed a friend approach on the other side of the street with his beagle, Sam.

Eager to show off our wonderful canine, we had just begun to cross the street toward them when a God-awful shriek slammed through the steamy July air. It was the agony-filled scream of someone being dismembered, the nightmare squeal as millions of fingernails ripped across thousands of blackboards, the excruciating wail as boiling oil cascaded on barbarians storming the castle gates. It was…

…our dog.

Specifically, this was our dog looking at a non-English cocker. Had our perfect little pet ever been around a canine other than one from her own breed?

HELP! HELP! What is that? I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s the ugliest whatever it is. How could such a beast be allowed to exist? HELP!!

We froze, staring at Kalli in horror. Sam cowered behind his owner’s legs.

Neighbors rushed to their windows and doors, sure that some pathetic animal was being tortured. Their glares said it all: What are you doing to that sweet little thing? Do we need to call the police?

We dropped beside Kalli and tried to calm her. Only when Sam had left her line of sight did she stop caterwauling. Then, she resumed the walk in blessed silence as if nothing had happened. From our peripheral vision, we saw folks move back into their houses with a final angry look tossed our direction. For our part, we wondered if dogs could be schizophrenic.

© Laura Abbott