Six and a half years ago we took a trip to the coast with Andy and GoGo. Andy was about 8 months old and our perfect little poodle prince. One of his nicknames is Saint Andy because he is such a goody two-shoes. He always comes when he’s called, never does a ‘wrong’ thing twice and always tries hard to please.

So it was very odd when he would not come when called that day at the beach. He came when we called him away from birds and waves, dead fish, tar, other dogs… but he would not leave the old man.

The Old Man sat near the dunes with his granddaughter. The little girl bounced around, did somersaults, shrieked and shouted. Her grandfather sat on a log, quietly looking on. Andy went up to the man and sat down close to him, his side turned to him, his face staring directly

at us. “Do something!” he seemed to say, “Do something, please.” Anyone who knows why I wrote, “Don’t Lick the Dog” knows I wrote it for Andy. He is afraid of kids. I wrote the book to help kids and dogs be gentle and safe with each other. This little girl was Andy’s least favorite kind of child: loud, erratic and in-your-face. But there he sat, bravely ignoring his greatest fear. Upright and still with this urgent sincere expression on his little face. He would not leave that man. The old man sort of shrugged, told him, “Go on now, pup.” Not even an ear flicker. I went to Andy and said, “Let’s go!”  Did the fun -run game. Nope. He sat, wooden, upright. (“Do something!”) Would not budge. I clipped his leash on. “Andy, come.”

He stared at me, and leaned back into the man. Finally, he slowly rose and shuffled away with me, at the tail end of the leash – behind me. His usual spot is right beside me, gazing up adoring and happy, (remember, this is Andy the Good). When I thought we were far enough along the beach I let him back off leash. He turned and trotted right back to the man!

Ok, that’s it. I put the leash on him and sternly told him, “Heel.”  He did. With a far off look on his face. The rest of the day he seemed distant and thoughtful.

I couldn’t stop thinking how strange… eventually I figured, maybe the man was sick and Andy smelled something.

Nearly 7 years later Andy has sat vigil twice more in two days. Last weekend at Poodle Palooza in Sequim, Andy sat, then laid next to his idol, his mentor, his friend, Roca.

Roca was dying of a very aggressive bone cancer. Our friends, Jack and Joanne did the most inspiring, intimate, loving hospice I have ever witnessed, and now Roca was living his final days as the honored elder and host of Poodle Palooza. Friday night, Roca made his way out to the lawn and laid down. The other dogs, miraculously, swerved and leapt and never once bumped into him. But Andy stopped his game and sniffed Roca. That same look came over his face and he sat, staring at Roca. Not a hard stare, but the concerned focused self contained gaze. Concern and patient are the best words to describe. Roca was peaceful, as pain free as we can imagine with patch and meds.

Andy did not leave Roca for over two hours. Eventually Andy laid down next to him. When Joanne helped Roca up to go inside later, Andy clung so close to him, she had to push him away.

Saturday was the big poodle party! Forty-six poodles and 30 people for an afternoon of food, sangria, garden strolls, and good times. Among the guests was a sweet 14 yr old standard named Morgan and her person, Darla. I met them briefly, as I did many of the poodles and poodlers that day.

We drove home Sunday afternoon.

I just learned that Andy ’sat by’ Morgan Saturday. With the same intense concern and still, steady gaze he gave Roca. Waiting. Darla had not known Morgan was sick. Just old. Sadly, Sunday afternoon Morgan’s leg broke. She was diagnosed with severe bone cancer and put to rest the next day.

Monday morning Roca could not get his breath, keep water down or move. Jack and Joanne called their vet and she came to the house to ease Roca away.

Roca and Morgan both died Monday, August 3rd.

I am looking into how to use Andy’s gift to help others – maybe dog hospice, or cancer detection. I’m not sure where or how, or if it is hard on Andy. I need to talk to experts about this. But I can tell you one thing for sure, if Andy sits next to you with this look on his face, get yourself to a doctor tout suite.

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