During that time, Scully was learning how to respond to a doorbell, an alarm clock, a fire alarm, and to Paul's name. It is a rigorous process and one that takes a very long time. She trained six to seven days a week to prepare for her new job with Daddy.

Two weeks after we were married, Paul and I received a phone call. It was the NEADS facility. Fearing the worst, I watched over Paul's shoulder as he typed to them on his TTY (Teletypewriter). I remembered that when we had called to check up on Scully (nearly two weeks after she had been dropped off) she was not eating. She thought we had abandoned her and refused to touch her dog food. But, much to my relief, it was good news. Scully had finished her training. Finished?! I was shocked. They had assured us that she would be gone for at least six months, possibly longer! And, now she was finished? Stunned, we agreed to travel to Massachusetts to pick her up.

When we got there, we were not allowed to see her. Heartbroken again, I tried desperately not to cry. Scully's trainer, Rosie O'Connell, understood our desire to see our little girl, and agreed. We were allowed to see our baby for two minutes. Scully came crashing through the training room door right into our arms. Two minutes later, she was taken back to her kennel. That night, she refused to eat. All she wanted was to be with us!

One month after our wedding, Paul and Scully and I moved to North Carolina. There, Scully got to experience the ocean for the very first time. She loved it! She has lived here for the last two years, and has never been happier.

We had a very scary experience the day before Thanksgiving, 1998. Paul went over to my sister's house in Elizabeth City, North Carolina, to finalize the next day's plans for our big family dinner. He let Scully out in their fenced-in backyard as he normally did, and left her alone for a few minutes. When it was time for him to go, he stood on the deck and called to her. She did not answer. He called again and again, but there was no response. Fearing that perhaps she had gotten her head stuck between the slats on the fence, Paul ventured out to look for her. "She's mischievous!" he later told me. "I never know what to expect with her."

When Paul passed by the above ground pool, he witnessed a terrifying sight. Scully was drowning. She had gone under the water for the last time, and had given her last doggy paddle. She was dying. Without a moment's hesitation, Paul jumped in the water after her. Though the pool had been drained quite a bit for the winter months, it was still much to deep for Scully's tiny feet to touch bottom. A form of CPR had to be done to pump the water from her lungs, and Paul was quick in administering the procedure. She was lifeless, her tongue had turned a pale blue. The water had been much too cold for her twenty-minute fight for life, registering at about 40º-45º.

Scully was rushed to the Emergency Room at Lannon's Animal Hospital right in Elizabeth City. When taken, her temperature did not even register on the thermometer. The veterinarians feared the worst: brain damage. But, once again, Scully proved everyone wrong. With her Mommy and Daddy at her side, constantly encouraging her, she quickly recovered. That same evening, Scully was allowed to come home. She had responded to every one of her commands without fail. All that was left to remind us of her adventure was a shaved patch on her leg where the vets had had to insert a warm IV. We had much to be thankful for the next day. Daddy had saved his little girl.

All we can think of, is that she had previously seen Paul reach into the pool and grab a ball for my sister's dog, Bracken. She must have figured, "Hey, if there was one ball in there, there's gotta be others!!" But, she is not even remotely afraid of the water. A fence was constructed around the pool to keep little paws out of it. But, Scully is ready to jump into the salty ocean water the second we get to the beach. She travels well, but I know she thinks the hour trek to the beach is too long. If she could talk, I have a feeling we'd hear: "Are we there yet?!"

Contributed by Kelly Huchro