My Exodus

I wanted a fish for a companion.

When I was growing up, I had never been responsible for anything. My family had three dogs, two cats, and a horse, but I couldn't help take care of any of them. Instead, my mother had to help me with simple daily tasks such as bathing, dressing, and sometimes even feeding myself. Taking care of most animals was almost impossible, but I could have sprinkled a few flakes of fish food.

I never did get my fish.

I was born with cerebral palsy, a handicapping condition that affects the brain's communication with other parts of the body. Cerebral palsy (cp) affects people in different ways. I use an electric wheelchair to move around, because I have a limited sense of balance. However, I can move around on my knees with little problem. My speech is difficult to understand, but most people around me usually pick it up in time.

In February, 1989, Elsie hosted Jim Murray, a CCI trainer who had come to Colorado to check on some dogs active in the program. She arranged for Jim to meet me at school to determine whether I would make a good candidate for a Canine Companion.

On the day that he was to come to school, I was home sick. Realizing how important this meeting might be, Mom called the school to see if it was possible to bring me for just an hour to meet with Elsie and her guest.

Mom took me to school at one o'clock just to meet Elsie and Jim Murray. We met in a little room just off the special-education room. As always, Mom was ready to interpret for Jim, but he told her to stop.

"I do this for a living, Mrs. Berge," he exclaimed. "And I can understand Tait just fine."

I was in awe. No one had treated me that way before. Right then, I knew this man, and perhaps the program he represented, was something special. I had never experienced anyone like Jim, and I felt great. I knew CCI was in my future.

When Jim and I got down to business, it was like the whole world stopped. It was just Jim and I having my first man-to-man talk. My eyes never left his.

I didn"t remember working with the Golden Retriever. But, when I was handed Nouveau's leash, I was happy to greet him. He was going to be my dog, and I knew we had a lot of work to do in the next ten days.

Nouveau's coat was real gold. It wasn't that rusty or blond color that most Golden Retrievers have -- it was real gold! His eyes were the darkest brown I'd ever seen. He was a medium-sized dog, and his tail never stopped wagging. After working with Nouveau for about an hour, I began to recognize him. Nouveau was the dog who had had placed his head in my lap and patiently stood there while I scratched his head.

This was the start of the rest of my life

Each time we went on a public outing, Nouveau and I became a little bit closer. I will never forget the first time I took Nouveau to a food court. I wanted a bacon cheeseburger and a soda, so I found a hamburger place. It had a fairly high counter, so I decided to try something. I knew that Nouveau was able to pay for and get the burger with only a few commands from me, and I wanted to try it.

I handed Nouveau a $5 bill and told him "Up". He put his front paws onto the counter and gave my money to the clerk. The clerk was a little surprised that he was doing business with a dog, but he continued his work.

When my order was ready, I asked Nouveau to retrieve the bag from the clerk (the clerk placed my drink in my lap). Nouveau seemed to be happy carrying the bag, so I wheeled myself up to a table. Then I had Nouveau hand me the bag.

Mom stood there in silence. I saw a tear in her eye, and it must have been very emotional for her. She had taken care of me all of my life, and she was actually witnessing the process of my becoming independent. That must have been an awesome experience.

As for me, I knew I was becoming independent, and I was speechless. I had seen other service dogs help their masters, but to have one help me was a feeling that can't be described in words.

One Christmas vacation, I received a rude wake-up call. The night before, I had forgotten to tell Nouveau that we didn't have to go to school. Nouveau, in his usual routine, was sure that we had to get up, and he turned on the light.

I begged him to turn off the light, but he wouldn't do it. He was convinced that we had to go to school. Once my eyes got adjusted to the light, I had to get out of bed and turn out the light myself.

"No school today, buddy. It's vacation," I told Nouveau. He looked at me with disbelief and dragged himself back to bed. From that time on, I took Nouveau's collar off on weekends and holidays. When I did this, Nouveau' instincts took over. He instinctively knew that there was no school and that we could sleep late.

One night I was sitting watching TV when Nouveau came over to me and sat down. We both looked around the apartment, and then we looked at each other. "You know Nouveau," I said, thinking about my new life with my buddy. "This is all your fault!"

That night I called Toni. I didn't know how to tell her that Nouveau had to be retired, so I decided to let God give me the right words. When the words finally came out, there was complete silence on the line.

The next thing I heard was Toni sniff. That did it, and we had a good cry. I don't know if Toni felt the same as I did, but I felt her warm arms around me. She was half way across the country, but it felt like we were in the same room (with a box of Kleenex, of course).

After our cry, Toni quietly asked what would happen to Nouveau. I told her my decision, and she said that she would be happy to have Nouveau back if that was what I wanted.

We talked a little more about my meeting earlier that day -- I told her everything. As we were ending our call, Toni reminded me that Nouveau had traveled far with me. He was a special dog to the two of us, and things would work out for the better.

As I was lying in bed that night, it finally hit me. I was going to lose Nouveau forever

I decided that I would go ask God my questions at the altar during the morning prayer. I thought about just praying in my seat, but I felt called to pray at the altar.

I had it all figured out, too. It was simple, really. I would go down to the altar, get down onto my knees, pray, and get back into my wheelchair when I was done. Nouveau would tag along like he always does. I thought I had a good plan and that nothing would go wrong.

It didn't work. When I got to the altar, I started to cry and dropped Nouveau's leash. I fell out of my chair, and my belly hit the rail letting my knees slowly hit the floor. Everything I wanted to tell God went out the window, and I just cried. A good friend saw me and came and rubbed my back, as I tried to understand why Nouveau had to retire.

In the meantime, Nouveau ran off and found some bread left over from the children's sermon. I knew that I needed to get him back, but I couldn't. What I was doing somehow seemed to be more important to me and God. I had to let someone else handle Nouveau.

I finally stopped crying, and some friends helped me back into my chair. Someone brought Nouveau over to me with the bread still in his mouth. Nobody could get him to drop the bread, so I had to do it. After the service, people told me that Nouveau made their day.

Two of the dogs I worked with were brother and sister Labrador/Golden crosses named Lanzner and Landus. I had never worked with dogs like these before. They were two, calm, in-control, dogs who were eager to please. After being around a big, strong, powerful dog like Nouveau, these two dogs were refreshing to work with. Both dogs picked up on my speech pattern right away, as we kept up with the class activities. But the female took to my heart. Lanzner was smaller than Nouveau, and she looked like a Lab with wavy Golden Retriever hair running along her back. Lanzner was certainly a sight for my sore eyes.

As the day's ceremonies got going, I got a tear in my eye, because I knew how service dogs could change lives. I knew the joys of waking up in the morning to a dog's wet nose in my face. I knew how it felt when Nouveau had picked up that pen for the thousandth time, as if he were doing it for the very first time. I also remembered how I felt when I almost lost Nouveau after his accident.

During our years together, Nouveau taught me many things. He taught me how to love, how to take risks, and how to trust myself when nobody else would. He taught me about life. He made me who I am, and for that I am grateful.

My memories of my short time with him are good ones, and nothing will ever take their place. As Lanzner took her place by my chair, I realized that it was time to move on. It was time to say good-bye to a wonderful adventure with a great dog. It was time for a new adventure, and I was eager to get started.

When I began writing this book, I didn't intend it to be about faith. I just wanted to tell Nouveau's story and how he had changed my life. It was meant to be a heartwarming story, and if the reader saw God working in my life, that was a bonus!

Now, as my book comes to an end, I can no longer keep my faith apart from my story. I have written about my faith in God, but it wasn't my main focus. Now, as I look back through the years, I have concluded that my faith has been the only thing that kept me alive.

Nouveau: June 29, 1987 – July 15, 2002

(Written on the night of Nouveau?s death)

How can I be sad for you, my golden friend?

Even though we haven't been together for some time,

I know you lived life until the very end.

You with your bones and balls

You used to play with them all.

You picked me to be your partner, remember?

That's the way it's going to be, you said.

You were right, you know.

Did you remember that when you stole the bread?

We had ourselves quite of an adventure, you and me.

You taught me how to be free.

We had our good times and our bad.

I never did thank you for being there when I almost lost my dad.

But we made it through that dark time and others.

You also loved my parents and my brothers!

You were the first dog to graduate from high school.

Everyone thought that was so cool.

Adventures came and went,

We went to Boston, San Diego, and places where you got wet!

You loved to swim

No matter if it were a pond or a pool with the cover still on it!

Then it was time for our biggest move of all

We were never so bold.

Or at least that's what I've been told.

To a downtown apartment, you and me

This time, we really were free.

You introduced me to my church family

Where I learned to be myself and to be carefree!

Soon it was time for us to depart,

That's when Lanzner came into my heart.

But I have never forgotten you, my friend

I'll remember you until the very end.

Rest now, Nouveau.

Love, Tait