Camp Kamp

Tucker, however, loves spring. He runs here and there sniffing out all the terrific smells, and even some icky ones. Like a private detective, he snoops out the trail of scents that others have left behind, and then follows a path of clues that only he recognizes. Like an Olympic runner, Tucker likes to sprint as fast as he can on four paws after squirrels. He doesn’t even care that they always make it up a tree and seem to chitter chatter down to him, “Ha! Ha! You can’t catch me!” Tucker never listens to me, when I try to explain, “No matter how much you bark at them, the squirrels are never going to come down!”

That’s why Tucker loves the “Let’s Chase Rabbits” game most of all during early spring. Tucker and I get more exercise, which is good for both of us. Rabbits, being great magicians, run here, there, and everywhere. They disappear down one hole or another, only to reappear again and again and again, quite miraculously here and there and everywhere! No matter how awful I might have felt before, I always feel better after playing hide and seek with Tucker and his rabbit friends, who love lots of exercise. Exercise is good for everyone, especially if suffering from depression, anxiety and other symptoms of TBI.

One day, rabbits keep popping up here and there and disappearing once again. Each time, Tucker was a sprinter right out of the starting blocks. Each time the magicians disappeared. And then suddenly I saw the most unbelievable sight I’ve ever seen! “NO, Tucker, no!” I yelled. But like the strongest stallion, he was after the rabbit with the carrot. “Tucker, COME!” I screamed. And yet he didn’t. He kept on running and running. “NO, TUCKER NO!” I yelled, “That’s the Easter Bunny!”

Tucker never heard me, but eventually he came back as happy as ever to have had the best chase! I really couldn’t reprimand Tucker, because he did eventually come back. Besides, Tucker did help me find the little child, who was supposed to get the dropped basket. So that made everything all better and him a very good dog!

Hi! My name is Marie Cooney, and I am very proud to have the opportunity to start blogging regularly for Lash and Associates Publishing. I have survived, not one, but two Traumatic Brain Injuries. Both happened while I was working as a stagehand in the theater. Most people don’t know how dangerous the theater can be. When something bad happens, it is often very bad. Making “the magic of theater” isn’t always so magical. When a performer gets injured, it’s news. When it’s a stagehand, it’s Work Comp, if you’re lucky.

After my first closed head injury, I self-moderated my return to work. Like many TBI survivors, I was simply trying to survive. I didn’t follow through on retaining a good lawyer and my rights to lost wages, all reasonable and necessary medical care, and retraining if necessary. Like many TBI survivors, my long term relationship ended after my injury. I didn’t believe it when my partner ended our ten year relationship with a two week notice. I was fired as friend and life-partner. What made it even harder is she never explained why.

Once, she said to me, “If you have a brain injury, there is no hope!” I ran upstairs, grabbed a medical report, and shoved it in her hands yelling, “Don’t you dare ever tell me there is no hope!” I have since learned I may have been experiencing the “heightened emotions” of some TBI survivors. Whatever the reason for the breakup, I left almost everything behind. But I fought for Tucker.

My Savior Tucker

I loved cuddling in my grandmother’s lap and touching the softness of her face, or running to my grandfather’s strong and opened embrace, then flying high above his head like an airplane and landed gently, once again, in his lap, of course. Big laps! Little laps! Lots and lots of laps! Cousins, friends, and neighbors too, there were good laps everywhere. All I needed to do was find one, or two, or three or more. Any lap I liked would do. And I liked lots and lots of laps.

Dogs are pretty smart. Tucker always knew when he had found a good lap! Tucker also knew which laps to avoid. He wouldn’t go anywhere near those laps. With animals, they say it is instinct. With people, they call it intuition. Either way, it’s the way of knowing something, without any rhyme or reason, just because you know it. And that is that! No questions asked.

Tucker rarely contemplated if it were a good lap or a bad lap. He just knew. But every now and then, Tucker didn’t know for sure. So he would wait or test the water. Sometimes Tucker waited for an unexplainable signal, that only he knew, that told him all was well, run the other way, or simply wait for another day.

Tucker liked lots and lots of laps, just like me! He liked Kris’ lap, and not just because she taught him to catch popcorn flying through the air. Tucker loved to snuggle with Sammy, his best dog-friend. They even shared a bone! I suppose best friends are like sharing treats and snacks. Then there was Sharon’s lap. She loved playing with Tucker and never seemed to mind his wet not pushed into her lap. Some people find this offensive, but not dog lovers.