An Introduction...to Marley's "Mutt Militia"

Dear Mutt Militia,

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Liz Kover. And those of you who follow Zach's updates regularly may have heard that I will soon be joining this team of extraordinary people in the extraordinary work they're doing for dogs!

First, a bit of history: I was drawn to Marley's Mutts a few months ago via one of Zach's status updates on a mutual Facebook friend's wall. After a little investigating on their fantastic website and FB page, it became clear to me that the path of my life's work might well be destined to intersect with that of Zach and Crew. Beyond the great work Marley's Mutts was already doing, my attention was trained on the work Zach wrote about yearning to begin, and the synchronistic threads connecting our back stories.

As you all know and appreciate, Zach is very open about his alcohol-induced illness being the vehicle through which dogs became angels of mercy during his darkest hour. I, too, was saved by the power of love that is innate and unique to the human-canine relationship. In my story, it was my Mom who had liver disease; and it was in the depths of grief after her death that dogs rescued me.

My Mom contracted hepatits C in her early twenties during a self-destructive phase in which she abused IV drugs. For my entire life growing up, she was 100% clean, sober and seemingly, completely healthy. However, they call hepatitis C the "silent killer", because behind the scenes of a person's "normal blood work" throughout the years, the disease is slowly turning one's liver into scar tissue. And by the time the person shows symptoms of liver cirrhosis, it is often too late for intervention. My Mom became ill when she was (an extraordinarily youthful) 55, at the very peak of her free-spirited, golden-hearted, dance-filled life. And - in spite of my donating half of my liver to her in June of 2004 - she died that New Year's Eve, thirteen minutes before midnight, at age 57.

When her physical life ended, so too did the life I had known. It was an elemental turning point in the evolution of my spirit; and dogs were the earth angels that accompanied me as I picked my broken self up and continued on. I was invited to come stay with friends on the Big Island of Hawaii within a year of my Mom's passing, where I was blessed to spend magical, playful time with my friends' dogs, exploring wild tropical terrain and adventuring across exquisite land and seascapes. Being with dogs at this time allowed for a wide open, honest flow of emotion. As brutal as it was to experience that depth of anguish and sorrow, it allowed me - over time - to reach a place of acceptance; and even for the connection between my Mom and me to grow fathoms deeper, which I never would've imagined possible for souls as close as ours. By living fully and vividly - in the moment, where dogs always exist - I was free to grieve and heal, as all who lose a loved one should be able to do. Only when we allow ourselves this freedom, I believe, can we truly move forward in our lives.

Dogs brought both Zach and me from the brink of ultimate devastation back to life (as they do for countless others in countless ways), and helped us each heal through seemingly insurmountable pain and hardship. Now, we both wish to pay forward the gifts of healing we were given, by helping others know the profound relief and spiritual empowerment that comes from spending time with dogs in a therapeutic capacity.

At this point, my and Marley's Mutts' collective vision for helping people and dogs heal is set to gain unstoppable momentum. We  have great faith in the plan, which is for miracles to abound. Zach has already begun the new social therapy program, bringing Marley's "Miracle Mutts" into partnerships with people in recovery. And my involvement will kick off next week, when I make my move to Tehachapi to live and work full-time! The moving date is set for June 19th, 2013 - what would've been my Mom's 66th birthday, and a day of celebration and new beginnings all around.

While working with Marley's Mutts, I will simultaneously be raising and training a service dog for a child with autism through another wonderful organization called Good Dog Autism Companions (http://www.gooddogautismcompanions.org/). This assignment comes on the heels of my graduating from Bergin University of Canine Studies with an A.S. degree in Assistance Dog Education (http://www.berginu.edu/).

I acquired the puppy a week and a half ago, and have started a Facebook page to document the whole process of little Fred's evolution as a service dog, and my evolution as a service dog trainer. I will write more about autism spectrum disorders, children with autism, and service dogs utilized in this capacity, as the training progresses. This is a whole new world for me, and will no doubt be an incredible learning experience every step of the way! I hope you will come along for the ride, and offer any insight or input you might have!

I know that YOU ALL - The Mutt Militia - are a group of compassionate, caring people whose support and involvement are at the root of Marley's Mutts' great success. So I am honored to know you - if only virtually - and look forward to joining you as we head into the exciting future of this miraculous organization!

Dog Speed,
Liz

Running on Soul

There sat Mount Hookaana in the warm Hawaiian night, its peak enshrouded by a flowing swath of steam clouds.

This is the name Renee and I gave to the giant incline in our neighborhood - its underlying infrastructure the slope of a volcano - that used to be my daily running triumph when I lived in the Hoogs' ohana.

The mountain top beckoned, silencing the chronic hip pain that has kept me from running since August. Throughout the past year, marked by so many successes in my educational and professional journey, a very crucial part of me has been compromised by this mysterious and pervasive injury. My soul, more so than even my feet or my physiology, is the fuel on which I run. And in forced stillness, my whole self hurts. 

I breathed in deeply, ingesting with profound nostalgia delicious, plumeria soaked oxygen. I thanked God for the rain - and I ran - my heart pumping fiercely, calf muscles burning that wonderful burn. I felt deep gratitude for the sensation of infallible strength throughout my being, and pain, I decided, could wait until morning.

Bergin U. Graduation Slideshow

Saturday, May 4th, 2013 Photos and slideshow by Liz R. Kover (WATCH IN HD IF YOU CAN!)

Here + Now = WOW!

Having just graduated with my Associate of Science degree in Assistance Dog Education from Bergin University of Canine Studies (alongside the beautiful dog I trained second semester, who is now the forever-companion to a woman with paraplegia), I stand at the threshold of another great transition period. Here, I rush at the realization of where I've been, how far I've come, and where I am headed.

It is difficult to adequately express the scope of my life at the moment. But a few major events help shape the picture, and provide an accurate meter for the HUGE-NESS of it all. In fact, I can weave together the pieces using stories of each time I have given my new book to someone since I finished it a few of months ago.

Each of the following situations is proof that if you dream big enough, work hard enough, hold out faith long enough and STAY OPEN TO ALL POSSIBILITIES, you WILL hit undeniable milestones along the path to success that you, yourself, have created.

***

On the last day of Spring break, in mid-March, I reunited with my dear friend Nena at Ocean Beach in San Francisco. Nena is the amazing woman who gave my first book, A Dog's Life...In Paradise, to Cesar Millan when she worked as an editor on his show, Dog Whisperer. She and I shared special times together in Kona, volunteering at the Hawaii Island Humane Society, drinking coffee and talking Life. And I will never forget, as long as I live, Nena's phone message from her desk back in L.A. on March 9th, 2011 (the day of the massive earthquake in Japan, and the resulting tsunami on the Big Island). In it, she said "Hi Liz, this is Nena. I thought I should let you know that on this day - Wednesday - your book was in Cesar's hands. I just got a call from the set that the photograph has been taken (of Cesar with the book) because he actually read it. He read your letter. And he told the crew he thinks he's in love...Something reached. Something touched. And it has been read. Well done, my friend."

Because I had put tremendous amounts of time and energy into connecting with Cesar, (to share with him my professional goals and the desire to work with him and learn directly from him as a "Whisperer's Apprentice"), this was obviously a great moment for me. Though I am grateful to Nena for so much more than passing my gift on to Cesar. She is a dear, loving and infinitely supportive friend, so being able to give her my second book - during a joyous mainland reunion that included my two service dogs in training and Nena's beautiful daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter - was the greatest gift of all.

On March 29th, 2013 (just after we - the students - delivered a litter of puppies), my professional idol and spiritual teacher, Cesar Millan, actually came to speak at our school. He was in town for a big stage performance that evening at the Wells Fargo Center, (which my roommates and I also attended), and honored us by visiting Bergin earlier that day. As Bonnie led him around campus on a tour, we went to work with our dogs in the training room, so that he could peek in and see us doing what we do. Sure enough, just as Elyse jumped up to turn off the light switch, then put her front paws on my lap in the wheelchair to give me kisses, Cesar Millan stood at the doorway with a huge smile on his face. He was very impressed with all of the students and dogs, and I just could not believe he was there. So close, so easily within reach, when meeting him had seemed a light-years-away dream for so long.

As Bonnie and Cesar (and Cesar's small entourage) finished touring the campus, we put our dogs in their kennels, and filed into the classroom. I was given the honor of sitting front and center, in order that I could hand Cesar a copy of his book to sign for our library; and then I could give him the gift I had for him, which was a copy of my own book, Conversations With Dog: Dog-Given Inspiration From the Heavenly Island of Hawaii.

He gave me a big hug and everyone applauded, so happy for me to have this ultimate dream come true. After Cesar's presentation, he took a group photo with the students, then went around and shook everyone's hands. When he came to me, he hugged me a second time and asked, "Are you going to be staying around here for a while?" I said, "Well yes, unless you hire me, in which case I'll be moving to Southern California". And he replied, "Sure! As soon as you're finished here." While his tone when he said this was tongue-in-cheek, he still said it, and THAT is cool!

A couple of weeks later, I received an email from a young man I didn't know. In it, he praised my book, and told me I had inspired him to follow his own dreams in spite of being discouraged to do so by his parents. I asked him where he had seen my book, and he told me he found it ("facing out") on Cesar Millan's book shelf, next to his own books. More incredible affirmation, for which I am so happy and grateful!

Less than two weeks later, a few classmates and I (along with our five service dogs) ended up meeting another absolute hero of mine, Dr. Jane Goodall, after hearing her speak in Santa Rosa. Fourteen years ago, when I met Dr. Goodall the first time, I handed her a letter I had written her about the work I was doing with whales and dolphins. Several weeks later, I received a handwritten postcard from Jane herself, which said "Dear Liz, Thank you for your letter. I wish you all success in anything you do for the whales and dolphins. They so much need help. I am just over halfway through this marathon 9 week tour. It's going well but is really exhausting. Thanks again, Jane Goodall." That postcard hangs on my wall and remains my most prized physical possession to this day.

This time around, I was able to hand Dr. Goodall a copy of my book. Not only that, but when Jane saw the pack of us approaching she got up from her book signing table, passed several people that were ahead of us in line, and got down on the floor to love on all the dogs! To my puppy, Kristina, I gave the command "Get it"! She complied and took Jane's book in her mouth. I said "Give it to Jane!", which she did, with a crazily wagging tail. Jane signed her book for me, and then continued to accept licks all over her face from our happy, happy dogs.

Meeting my two greatest professional heroes (within EIGHT DAYS of one another) was not only tremendously exciting, but was representative of something SO MUCH BIGGER than either event in and of itself. It was clear, grandiose affirmation from the cosmos that I had arrived at a major, elemental benchmark in my life's work. I had reached a pedestal once deemed unreachable by a less confident, less complete Me. I hit a profound reflection point, against which to further define the career that I have built, dream by dream and brick by brick, from my own imagination, blood, sweat, tears and loving labour. To put into their four hands with my own two, the creative product of all that lives and breathes within my spirit, was clarification that I am indeed exactly where I need to be, and going in precisely the right direction.

(An addendum to this post: Just a couple of weeks ago, I received THIS hand-written postcard from Jane Goodall, thanking me for the book, which - needless to say - completely blew my mind in the best possible way! It says "Dear Liz, this is to thank you so very much for Conversations With Dog. Two things which I have always loved are DOGS and BOOKS! I look forward to settling down with this when my never-ending tour is over. Again, thank you. - Jane Goodall)

The next person to get my book was Zach Skow, director of a very special animal rescue organization in Tehachapi, CA. Zach's organization is as much Zach himself as it is a highly functional and widely known and respected non-profit that saves dogs from death row, rehabilitates and re-homes them. This personal openness on Zach's part was, in fact, what originally drew me to his organization, Marley's Mutts. I came across a Facebook post of Zach's, in which he talked about dancing with his mom by the fireplace and appreciating such moments of quiet grace as the stuff of which life is made. Upon reading more on the Marley's Mutts website, I learned that (1) Zach, like me, was rescued by dogs and their ability to usher in spiritual guidance in his darkest hour of need; (2) that Zach's darkest hour, like my Mom's (and thus mine) involved drug and/or alcohol related liver disease; and that (3) like me, Zach's mission in life now is to pay forward the healing he has been gifted, by way of bringing together rescue dogs and people in need of help, for healing interaction.

I felt immediately compelled to reach out to Zach, to let him know that he and I shared distinctly similar visions for our work with dogs and people. And within a few minutes of our first phone conversation, we had made plans to meet in person and discuss what already felt like great potential for partnership and growth.

The second weekend in April, I drove the six hours to Zach's place in Bear Valley Springs (an hour into the foothills from Bakersfield), and we spent an awesome weekend brainstorming and daydreaming about the exciting future of Marley's mutts. It is to be a collaboration of our two minds and hearts - an extremely powerful combination, and a collective force I have no doubt will move mountains. I sent Zach a copy of my book the following week.

Click here to learn more about Marley's Mutts:
http://marleysmutts.com/

As with meeting Cesar Millan and Jane Goodall, meeting Zach counts as a profound "coming of age" for my professional and personal evolution. Securing a JOB relevant to my canine studies degree directly out of my schooling at Bergin U., is a feat by itself. Creating a professional partnership with a kindred spirit, who gets who I am with depth and ease simultaneously, and with whom I can construct a dream that's simply too big for one to build alone, is nothing short of a miracle.

The last week in April, (and the last week of school), I sat with my brilliant professor, the iconic Dr. Bonnie Bergin - creator of the service dog for people with mobility impairments - and handed her a copy of my book, too. I am beyond blessed to have spent the last year learning directly from Bonnie. In the inside cover of my spiral notebook is the first note I took in class on my first day at Bergin U. It is a quote from Bonnie that says, "You can change the world, and it's very simple." I've held on to that - tightly - and Bonnie (along with my other teachers, human and canine alike) has given me the skills and the faith necessary to feel I can truly do so.

Somewhere in the midst of all the aforementioned "book giving", I also procured a relationship with a wonderful woman named Laura Sylvester, who has an autistic son, and runs an organization out of Oceanside, CA, called Good Dog Autism Companions. Laura is next on my list of book recipients. In the meantime, I am going to be working for Good Dog, soon to begin raising a brand new puppy (until the age of nine to twelve months), and training it to be a service dog for a seven year old boy with autism. I will bring the pup with me to Tehachapi, where I will train him or her alongside the shelter dogs Zach and I will rescue, rehabilitate, and help to become social therapy dogs, helping people and spreading happiness in the community.

Click here to learn more about Good Dog: http://www.gooddogautismcompanions.org/

I have worked so hard - for so many years and through so much fear, self-doubt and struggle - to reach these life- and career affirming milestones. I thank God for every challenge, as each has been a critical building block upon which solid opportunities now stand. Upon this foundation, I will pay forward my blessings in the form of service to others, human and animal alike.

* * *

I am coming back to this post over a year later. The amount of awesomeness that has unfolded is astronomical...too much to catalogue here all at once. I did have the opportunity to meet Cesar Millan again, and my efforts to get him involved with my Master's project - the fitness assistance dog - continue.

Letting Go is Hard To Do.

On graduation day, I let go of Elyse, the beautiful dog I'd been training since January. Today, I let go of my precious puppy, Kristina. I have been Kristina's only student trainer since she was four weeks old, and have essentially - along with the staff at Bergin U. - raised her into the nine month old young lady she is today.

So much of my life has been about learning to let go.
Not just learning to let things or people or places or animals go; but to let the meaning of things and people and places and animals - change - in the scope of my understanding. When my mom died, I necessarily redefined what it meant to have her with me. I necessarily redefined what it meant to live and to die, reconstituting all manner of loss into nothing more than a meter by which to measure how much I'd loved and been loved.

Moving between my many fated homes throughout adulthood, I've learned that missing the places where I'm not is the price I pay for loving the one where I presently am. As a pet sitter and now trainer of service dogs, I know how to love each and every dog with all my might, even while knowing they are not mine, and that I will inevitably be letting them go at some point. In this context, I have learned to sacrifice my needs, my desire to grip too tightly; for there is a bigger picture in which I am a devout believer, and to which I am morally obliged.

While I am consciously willing to work on behalf of this higher purpose - honored, in fact, to do so - I break down in moments and simply feel the anguish of saying goodbye.

 I get tired of being strong. I get tired of staving off selfishness and self-pity. I get tired of pretending that letting go of people and places and animals I love with ALL MY HEART doesn't hurt like hell. I am tired of being stoic and noble about all the letting go; and shamelessly praying for something - someone - to which or whom I can unabashedly hold on.

For Elyse

From behind Elyse's eyes
There streams a light
Through which love shines
With all its might

Throughout Elyse's body
Nestled in every curve
Glows a hue purely golden
It is her calling to serve

In Elyse's heart
Beats the rhythm of the saints
And as service is an art form
A masterpiece she'll paint

Within Elyse's soul
Lives the divine innocence of dogs
And for the blessing of knowing her
I can only thank God

From behind Elyse's eyes
There streams a light
Through which love shines
With all its might