We are just back from two weeks of traveling in our trusty little hybrid truck—2,000 miles and 30+ hours—to attend a course of dog training at the monastery of New Skete and visit with three sets of the best of old friends in upstate New York and Virginia, the kind of friends one invariably concludes an email or phone conversation with by saying “We’ll visit soon!” Then recently it happened that my wish to visit dear friends before I run out of years to do so and a class opportunity at New Skete coincided. But as departure time neared, I began to dread the long drive and wondered whether I wasn’t overestimating my stamina and expectations of Gracie and myself.

Well, it turned out to be one of the most glorious trips I’ve ever undertaken. We tested Google Maps to the utmost. Friends greeted us royally and gave Gracie the chance to learn how to be a favored guest in four different households. In addition, during the five days of training, we were fortunate to stay at Maurice Sendak’s farm near Cambridge, New York, taking in a grand view of the mountains ranged along the border with Vermont at every moment we were there and awake.

At Lanntair Farm in the mid-1980s, Kenneth and I used the monks’ 1970s book How to Be Your Dog’s Best Friend to train our two black American Labrador Retrievers Dame O’Casey and Finn McCoo. With that training, those beloved dogs oversaw our horse farm for 12 years. Every morning McCoo looked at us as though to say “How can I lay down my life for you today?” and Casey looked at him with “Aw, get a life, let’s get on with it!” The monks have published many other highly successful books since then but also now offer training onsite at the monastery. Their approach is both spiritual and gentle, emphasizing insight into the dog’s nature, making connections, and building a relationship.

And yet, after almost two years of living with Gracie since her retirement as a hard-working Mama, I wasn’t entirely convinced she even needed formal training. She is inherently eager and willing to acknowledge her Pack Leader (me) and reasonably smart. She is thrilled by any old tennis balls that come her way. But education is always a good thing, yes? Poor Gracie: I was the “old dog” who repeatedly fumbled directions and training aids. (We had in common, though, that both of us were thoroughly exhausted at the end of every day.) There was one instance at the course where Gracie got the chance to show off a new skill, with that English Labrador tail proudly wagging with enthusiasm, and she earned applause from the assembled class for that. I nearly cried when I saw how pleased she was for both of us.

Gracie will never be a cool-and-aloof show dog, but she is now a little bit more willing to take my cue on whether to seek to greet every human and creature who passes by. “Sit” still doesn’t come naturally to her because she’d much rather lie down and roll over to show her pleasure at meeting new and old acquaintances. But it also turns out that she genuinely likes to launch into what trainers call a Purposeful Walk, except that her companion (me) cannot last in power drive nearly as long as she can!

Since arriving back home, I am astonished by how much Gracie learned and how wonderful that seems to both of us. Still, if she ever stops wanting to make friends with everyone she encounters, I’ll know something’s up; when she stops rolling over and showing her belly to people she thinks of as her special friends—all of them—I’ll know something is wrong.

Every day with Gracie is a day of grace and joy. I am most grateful to know and care for her.

Our best wishes for a most enjoyable summer to all family and friends! —Theresa