Cutting Room Floor

an unlikely champion

newport

Newport

The Goddess

The Nose Knows

the goddess

The nose knows

Spring arrived just as it should, not like in Vermont where it dragged into July. My job was easy, the kind where you knew exactly how many quarters you needed to work before retirement. I spent my afternoons walking Jazz, training with new people and dogs, and exploring Aquidneck Island. It wasn’t like Vermont at first, but soon I found quiet paths near St. George’s Prep and Second Beach, where Jazz and I could roam free. Life felt simple. The beach, the dog, and a few good friends—what else did I need?

This morning, no one else showed up for yoga, so it was just Carin, me, and Jazz. During Carin’s Reiki session, Jazz wandered around the room, pausing at the lavender drawer before circling us in her familiar figure-eight pattern. Carin picked up on Jazz’s stomach troubles, and we talked about her recent digestive issues.

Then, Jazz did something odd—she walked up to the goddess statue in the corner and licked her left hand twice. I laughed and mentioned it to Carin, who revealed she’d actually asked Jazz to do that. For a moment, it felt like Jazz was more connected to the space than I was.

Jazz and I were training for the AKC Utility obedience level, and the exercises were tough—silent hand signals, retrieving gloves, and scent discrimination. During one lesson, Lynne introduced scent articles. I was nervous, having read it could be complicated, but Lynne was confident. Jazz surprised me by picking up the correct scented article right away—no mistakes, no tie-downs. With each challenge, Jazz’s confidence soared, and she nailed it every time. By the end of the session, Lynne was amazed. “Jazz doesn’t need a tie-down mat from Home Depot,” she laughed. That night, Jazz curled up beside me, her nose clearly her superpower.