Presentation on the East Coast

Presentation on the East Coast

“Come on, George. Gracie! Catch up! We need to get back to the hotel.”

Perhaps I should have kept them on the leash, I thought as I looked over my shoulder.

George and Gracie have been my companions for the past five years. They were beautiful German Shepherd Dogs that I had raised since puppies. I tried to take them on as many work trips as I could, as they were two of the best friends that I had in the world.

Today, we were on the Atlantic coast. The October weather was cool, and the beach was one of my favorite places to be. The dogs’ internal clocks made them stir around 4:00 a.m. and, since I knew they were not going back to sleep, I usually rose with them.

We beat the sunrise this morning and were playing in the surf when the first rays began to warm us. Even George and Gracie stopped for a moment and watched God’s masterpiece brighten the Eastern sky.

“Come on guys, I need to rinse all the salt water off before you go inside. Momma has work to do today.”

Gracie came at full speed. George took one more dig at the wet sand but then chased his sister to my side.

“Have you had fun today?” I asked. “We may have to come back here on vacation. It is beautiful!”

As we reached the beach shower, Gracie seemed intrigued at the large rock formation a few hundred yards ahead.

“Come on, Gracie. We have to go. Momma has a presentation in four hours, and I need to prepare.”

With Gracie seemingly getting a pass on the shower, George ran up the beach as well. By the time I reached the collection of rocks, I could see that Gracie had begun pawing and digging. There appeared to be an opening, and by the dogs’ behavior, something on the other side.

“What is it, girl?” I asked. I knew she would not answer, but her head turned quickly and sharply. I was a bit startled at her reaction.

George joined the digging and soon, at the back of the hole, I could see a wooden door.

“What in the…” my voice trailed off.

“What did you find, guys?”

I leaned down. The wood was weathered and dry. George and Gracie nudged the back of my legs. After a pat on their heads, I crouched down and kneeled on the beach.

Gracie pawed at the door. George encouraged her with a whine and a bark.

“You want me to open the door?” I looked at them.

Bark and yelp.

What is in there? I wondered.

Another bark and yelp.

I looked up and down the beach and saw no one.

It is probably some type of hurricane protection, I surmised, but why would it be on the beach? I did not really want to continue but the pups were adamant.

After a deep breath, I brushed some more sand off the door and pulled on the wooden handle. It budged but did not open.

“If it doesn’t open, we are going back to the hotel,” I told them. I stood to get a bit more leverage. I was more than just a little apprehensive about the discovery which awaited us. 

I pulled again and the door creaked.

What is this? My heart was pounding in my chest.

The fourth pull opened the door enough that George and Gracie bolted inside.

“Hey!” I shouted. “Hey, come here!”

One more pull and I was able to squeeze through the opening.

I clicked the flashlight on my phone to see if I could lay eyes on my pups.

What is this? my mind repeated.

With my flashlight as my guide, I surveyed my new surroundings. Other than the sand that had seeped under the door, there was a tile floor, sheet rocked and painted walls, and light bulbs hanging from electrical cords tacked to the ceiling. Everything was weathered, but white in color. I deduced that this must be a storm shelter and my blood pressure began trending towards normal again. But where were the dogs? How big is this place? Was there anyone else in here?

I whistled for George and Gracie, and they came running. They were unharmed, but I unfurled the leash from my belt and hooked them to me.

Walking in what appeared to be a hallway, I pointed my light ahead but turned to look at our entrance point and saw the bright morning sky. Holding the leash in one hand, I found a mid-sized rock to prop open the door.

“Just to be safe,” I told the dogs as I turned to continue our adventure.

A couple more steps down the hallway, I found a larger chamber. Feeling my way down the wall, my hand rubbed a plastic rectangle on the wall. Not really thinking of the consequences, I pushed the plastic switch up.

The light bulbs hanging from the ceiling flooded the area with light.

“Where am I?” I whispered.

George and Gracie pulled at the leash. Startled, I released them to the interior.

The room was approximately six by nine feet with a seven-foot ceiling. On the walls were books of various sizes and colors. Some of them were very old and covered with dust, but some were fresh like they had just been read. There was a dog bed in the middle of the space.

Eyes squinted, forehead furled, I tried to understand what I was seeing. George and Gracie, on the other hand, had tails wagging and tongues flapping.

George put his front paws on the third shelf like he was looking for a book. Gracie took her spot on the dog bed watching him.

“George, get down!” I barked…no, I really did bark!

George simply turned his head to me and said, “It’s ok, Momma.”

“What?” I barked again.

Gracie giggled and redirected to George, “I want to read the smaller one. The red one on your left.”

I slipped to my knees and just watched the confusion.

“Can you understand me?” I queried.

“Always have,” George threw over his shoulder.

Gracie seemed to delight in the fact that I was so confused. I rubbed her head and looked at the book which was now in her paws.

“What type of language is that?” I asked, unaware if I was talking or barking.

She looked at me over the binding of the book and said, “it is canine. Mr. Shepherd told us the library would be open last week when he called and asked you to speak to those people today.”

“Mr. Shepherd?” I asked. “He talked to YOU?”

“Sure!” George said. “He said we could stay here while you are doing your talk thing.” He was now lounging next to Gracie with a thick gray book.

“What?” I questioned. “My boss? The head of Shepherd Incorporated?”

“The very one,” George barked (or said – I couldn’t tell what I was hearing anymore). “You know him, tall, long back, beard…”

“Gorgeous brown eyes,” Gracie rolled her eyes and snickered.

I know he is a human, I thought, but his ears were a bit pointed and seemed to stand up…no…

“He’s a man, not a German Shepherd,” I yelped as I snapped out of my thoughts.

“Oh, we know,” they answered together, nodding their heads and smiling.

This was all so strange. Was I dreaming, or standing in the middle of a canine library? Was I talking or barking? Was Mr. Shepherd a man or a dog? As I pondered these questions, Gracie asked George how to pronounce a word.

I shook my head as if to rattle these thoughts away.

“Pro-ject-or,” George said slowly.

“Projector?” I probed, “What are you reading?”

“I am studying how to capture the audience…lure them in…and impart great wisdom…just like you do. I thought if you could travel and give presentations on what you know, maybe Mr. Shepherd would pay us to do the same.”

“I am looking forward to making money and buying better dog toys!” George added.

“What?????”

They looked at me giggling but soon returned to their books.

George grabbed my attention again when he said, “I am reading about architecture. I am going to build a better doghouse.”

“You live inside and have all the comforts of a human home,” I scoffed.

“Not for me, Momma. For others. I have an entrepreneurial spirit that is just bursting to be set free. I want to teach humans what a canine really wants in an outdoor bungalow.”

“You are going to teach and talk to humans?!?”

“You do it all the time with your presentations.”

“My presentation!” I suddenly remembered. “I need to go.”

“We will be here,” George sighed as he turned the page. “Please give our regards to Mr. Shepherd.”

“Shut the door on the way out,” Gracie followed.

“We will talk about this later,” I pointed at them as I turned to go.

Returning to the weathered wooden door, I hoped that I could concentrate on my presentation. Please don’t let my thoughts wander. Please don’t let me wonder if my dog could have presented this better. Please help me remember to be gracious to Mr. Shepherd. And please let my speech be human and not canine.

As my face met the afternoon sun, I wondered, “Mr. Shepherd? My dog talks to my boss, Mr. Shepherd?” 

I think I heard George and Gracie snickering as I pulled the weathered old wooden door behind me.

“…Shepherd’s Incorporated is thrilled to be a part of this project and look forward to working with all of you in the near future. I will turn this presentation over to Mr. Shepherd for any questions. Thank you.”

With that, Mr. Shepherd moved to the microphone to field questions.

Coming off stage, I met Ms. Speagle. She was smiling and offered me a bottle of water.

“Thank you! I hope I covered all the points you wanted.”

“Everything was included and covered,” she said. “I don’t think Mr. Shepherd will have to answer many questions.”

“All finished,” Mr. Shepherd said as he patted my back and joined us.

“That was quick,” I said. “No more questions?”

“No, the only question that I have is what’s for lunch?” he laughed. “One of the best talks we have had, and I owe it all to you. Great job!”

I had been drawn to Shepherd’s Incorporated because of their commitment to the conservation of green space in their construction projects. Today I was speaking to the zoning commission that would approve the one level condominiums with beach access project. Mr. Shepherd bought the land about a year ago and (hopefully) this was the last step to zoning the property for private use. Ms. Speagle was his executive assistant and director of this current project. I was on the board of directors and passionate about drawing in nature enthusiasts for support.

“There is a great seafood restaurant within walking distance. Anyone for fish or scallops?” Ms. Speagle asked. Of course she had researched the area, and I looked forward to her restaurant suggestion.

The three of us headed for the door greeting the guests in the room.

We were seated at a beachside table within minutes and anxiously talking about the beautiful Eastern coastline.

“I imagine a quiet community where people would want to come and retire,” Mr. Shepherd was saying.

“The east coast is beautiful, just as my Gulf beaches,” I added.

“True,” Mr. Shepherd said. “The water is a little cooler and there are more rocks on the beach though.”

“Yes…” I started but then decided the discussion of the rocky entrance to the mysterious library should be a private one. “…I saw some interesting rocks on my beach walk this morning.”

“Did the pups go with you?”

I sensed a deeper question but responded, “Sure! They go with me everywhere.”

“Great! I hope to get by and meet them later. Will you guys be out on the beach tonight?”

“I am sure we will. They have been cooped up for a red-hot minute today and I am sure they will be ready to get out and explore some more beach.”

Mr. Shepherd and I exchanged a queried look and the subject was changed.

Carrying my leftovers and walking into the hotel room, I noticed several books on the floor next to my sleeping pups.

“Well!” I exclaimed. “First of all, how did you get in the hotel room, and second, what about these books?”

Waking suddenly, George and Gracie jumped to their feet to welcome me.

They turned their heads from side to side, wagged their tails, and licked my hand.

“Oh, you can’t speak to me anymore?”

“Don’t want to know how Mr. Shepherd is?”

I felt foolish asking these questions since they didn’t answer but hooked their leashes and turned to open the door.

“Time for a walk” I said. “Oh, and I brought you some leftovers from dinner…after the walk.”

As I stepped over a book, I whimsically asked, “Do any of these need to be returned?”

Of course, no answer.

As I opened the door, my cell phone rang. Once the door was open, George and Gracie were ready to move, so I slid the bar on my phone and followed them into the hallway. It was Mr. Shepherd.

“Hey, I am headed to the beach!” I told him.

“Great! See you in a bit.”

The sunset was ending, but the beach was aglow with the reflection of the beach homes lights. We were close to the waves, when Mr. Shepherd called out.

“Hello!”

“Hey!”

“These two beautiful pups must be George and Gracie! I’m so excited to finally meet you!”

They enjoyed his petting and loving.

“Are you guys having a great time?”

“This is beautiful! I told the pups earlier that we would have to come back here for vacation some time.”

“Well, you could buy a condo in our new project up the beach,” Mr. Shepherd laughed. “Thank you again for that wonderful presentation you gave earlier.”

“Sure thing. After our discussion at lunch today I am thinking we won them over.”

“We certainly did! I think we should be hearing from the commission very soon.”

Normally full of energy and curiosity, George and Gracie sat at my feet. It was as if they wanted to absorb our conversation.

“Uh, Mr. Shepherd, there was one thing I wanted to ask you about.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“Perhaps George and Gracie would want to ask you about it too…”

“Oh, I am assuming you are talking about the library…” His voice trailed off. “Well, did they like it?”

“What kind of place is that? And,” looking around, “where is it? I thought we came back to the same spot.”

“It was right here, but I cannot just keep it out in the open. What if the wrong people or pups found it?”

“So, it is some type of secret library?”

“Well…this is going to take a while; do you want to come to my place? It’s just up the beach. I can drive you back to the hotel when we are done.”

“Sure. I want to know all that you will tell me.” George and Gracie seemed very eager to listen as well.

Mr. Shepherd’s home was a modest beach house flanked by plush green grass. We entered through the back sliding glass door.

“If you don’t mind taking your flip-flops off – sand gets everywhere!”

“No worries,” I said as I placed them by the door next to his. I unleashed George and Gracie, and they laid down by my feet.

“Have a seat! I am going to get some water for you and the pups.”

Upon his return we began chatting about the strange encounter at ‘the library.’

“Was I actually barking when I was talking to them?” I asked.

“Well, you were mutually understanding each other,” he replied.

“So, you are bi-lingual?” I half-heartedly laughed.

“Yes,” he answered, “and so are you.”

“You know what they want by their bark and their body language.”

“But I was speaking their language, and what about the books?”

“How do you think German Shepherd Dogs got to be so smart?”

“By reading books?????” I chuckled.

“No, not entirely, but if they have leisure time on their hands, why not read a book and learn something?”

I shook my head.

“I have been around dogs my entire life. It’s like I am one!” Mr. Shepherd giggled. “I have harnessed a love of their language and if I can communicate with them, shouldn’t I?”

“You can communicate with them to the point of writing books in their language?”

“Yes.”

“How do they know how to read them?”

“Dogs are very intelligent. Of course they have to start at the beginning, learning the basics first. But when they hear you speaking and reading out loud to them, they pick it up rather quickly. You know how curious they are. After you go to bed or leave a book alone with them, they look at it.”

Mr. Shepherd continued, “It’s just like a baby. You read to them and they have their own language to interpret it. If we wrote down the ‘goo-goo’s’ and ga-ga’s’, they would have their own language too. We force them to speak, read, and write the English language. I have just written down the canine language so dogs can enjoy books too.”

I was astonished, did not believe him, and was fascinated all at the same time.

“You should publish all of your information,” I finally verbalized.

“Oh, no,” he snickered. “I’m in the construction business!”

George and Gracie snickered too.

I sighed, “I guess there are things that I will never understand.”

Suddenly, a fire truck passed by, and all three of them howled.