Authors: Tom Sullivan,Betty White
The dog
agreed with a thump of his tail.
That night the bed was
kind of crowded. Brian had a
slight upset tummy, so Kat had brought him in to sleep with his mother and
father. The view Nelson took of the whole situation was that if three of his
family members were sleeping together, it made sense for him to join them.
Feeling the
bed shake as Nelson came aboard, Brenden couldn't bring himself to tell him to
get down, mostly because as the little boy worked to get comfortable between
his parents, he kept looking at the big dog and making cooing noises.
Brenden
turned out the light, comfortable in the darkness that had become so familiar.
He lovingly took in the smells of his family—the baby's head, as clean as the
child's innocence; Kat's essence—musty and magical—wife, lover, mother, friend,
and all his—forever; Nelson, a little pungent from free time in the backyard.
But it didn't matter. In fact, it was comforting, reminding him that Nelson
represented his eyes on the world.
Getting
drowsy, Brenden reflected on how things had changed.
Oh
sure,
he
thought,
I'd love to see again, but I still have pictures in my
head of so much—mountains and sunsets
and...
I wish I
could see Kat and Brian—and Nelson too—but what I have now is a dimension I
didn't even know was possible.
Am I sorry I'm blind? Oh, sometimes, but I am so blessed by
this family and God's grace that I think my life's about as perfect as human
beings are allowed to have. Challenge to opportunity, disadvantage to
advantage, negatives to positives, growing all the time. Would that growth have
happened if I had been sighted? Who would I be today, I wonder?
He was aware
of Kat's even breathing and knew she had fallen asleep, as had little Brian.
How right
Smitty had been way back then. Brenden smiled, thinking of their phone
conversation earlier in the day.
He still can't resist an "I
told you so" every once in a while.
They remained
fast friends through periodic phone calls, and Smitty had even come to visit
them a couple of times. Of course, Brenden had no illusions—he knew who Smitty
really came to see.
Nelson
stretched, taking up a little more space on the bed.
"Hey,
fur ball," Brenden said quietly. "Leave a little room for us, will
ya?"
As if he
understood, his best friend pulled his paws in closer to his body with a heavy
sigh.
Sleep came to
the whole family then—the deep, untroubled sleep of those bonded in
contentment, faith, and the truest love.
To Julie
Cremeans and the ladies of EDA: Words don't say enough, so thank you, thank
you.
To Dr. Rob
Hilsenroth: My friend, my confidant, my eyes on the mountain.
To my agent,
Jan Miller: I'll keep writing. You keep selling. We're an unbeatable team.
To Dr. Thomas
Larkin: Thanks for all the accurate medical information.
To my
daughter, Blythe: You gave me maps, love, and support. What more could a father
ask?
To Ami
McConnell: Your sensitivity and professionalism made editing a breeze. To an author,
that's very appreciated.
To Allen
Arnold and all my friends at Thomas Nelson: Thanks for continuing to believe in
me and bringing my work to the public.
To Terry
Barrett, director of Training Operations, Guide Dogs for the Blind: Your help
was invaluable, and your love for animals and the work shone through every
conversation we had.
To my friend
and trainer, Harold Smith: Every time I pick up the harness, the knowledge and
feel for the animals you provided flows through my hand.
To John Zell:
Thanks for all of your help with mountain rescue information and for your
spirit as a volunteer, saving hikers and climbers.
To every
guide dog: Through their love, dedication, and hard work, freedom is possible.
I suppose all
novels are different in the way they develop. Some come out of historic
investigation; others are loosely written around biographies of either the
writer or people the writer has known. This novel,
Together,
arose out of two wonderful relationships that forever changed my life.
The first was
with my friend and writing partner, Betty White. We met when Betty and her
husband, Allen Ludden, discovered me singing in a club on Cape Cod. Not only
did they do everything possible to further my burgeoning show business career,
but they also were responsible for making sure that I understood that the
beautiful blonde girl who came in night after night to listen to me sing was a
person I ought to be taking seriously. That was Patty, and thankfully, we have
been married for thirty-nine years.
The second
contribution to writing this book was a relationship that Betty and I shared
with another golden girl—a golden retriever named Dinah. Dinah was my leader
dog, and for nine years she guided me around the country and around the world;
but when her eyes became clouded by cataracts and age began to slow her down,
it became necessary for me to take on a new friend that would share my work and
my life. His name was Nelson, and he was a strapping young black Lab. The
arrival of this enthusiastic young animal caused Dinah to believe that her life
had no more meaning, so she retreated to our bedroom, crawling under our bed, unwilling
to share, love, or play with anyone in our family.
Simply put,
Dinah had given up on life, and I was brokenhearted, not having any idea what
to do; until Betty White came to dinner. She immediately understood the
seriousness of my situation and asked me if I thought that maybe, just maybe,
she could help by taking Dinah into her home and into her heart. Well, the
magic worked. Dinah and Betty shared just over five glorious years together.
This shared relationship with Dinah prompted Betty and me to write another book
a few years ago called
The Leading Lady
—the story of Tom's life with
Dinah and Betty's life with Dinah.
Since that
time I have had the privilege of working with Nelson, the black Lab, and then
another dog, Partner, a wonderful German shepherd whose life was cut much too
short by the ravages of cancer. And now a second shepherd, Edison. All these
animals provided me with love, joy, and blessed freedom. So it made sense that
Betty and I write a fictional novel,
Together,
that we hope you have enjoyed
reading.
It is
impossible for me to express the unique relationship blind people have with
these astounding animals. The pages of this work cannot adequately express the
feelings of gratitude that I experience every time I pick up the harness of one
of these remarkable animals. No relationship between man and animal is as
intimate, and no love shared could ever be more fulfilling.
We hope you
have come to appreciate and understand the special bond between a blind person
and their best friend. Our additional hope is that in the privacy of your own
lives, you will see your own pets differently, knowing that from the toy breeds
to the Great Danes, from a purebred to a Heinz 57 variety, dogs have a
fundamental purpose: to love us all without hesitation or reservation. It
becomes our responsibility and our joy to return that same love and affection.
Tom Sullivan
March 2008