It’s official. Hanni and I are dogblog maivens. Another dogblogger blogged about us today.
Here’s the skinny: A woman named Mary Ellen was at the presentation Hanni and I gave earlier today at the Old Orchard Barnes & Noble in Skokie, Illinois.
Turns out Mary Ellen is the Executive Director and co-founder of “Sit Stay Read! Inc.” SIT STAY READ is a Chicago-based volunteer literacy organization that brings dogs and kids together to make reading fun. Mary Ellen’s dog Shandy is one of Chicago’s first Sit Stay Read dogs, and they dogblog about their experiences on the Shandy at Work dogblog.
The Sit Stay Read web site explains the program like this: “Reading aloud is a critical component of early childhood literacy. Children who have difficulty reading have an especially hard time reading aloud in front of peers and adults. SIT STAY READ programs allow children to read aloud to specially trained therapy dogs. The dogs increase confidence and generate excitement.”
After our presentation this afternoon, Mary Ellen asked if Hanni and I might want to be Guest Readers/Listeners at a Sit Stay Read school program in Chicagoland sometime. “Our kids would be thrilled to hear you,” Mary Ellen said. They’ve had opera singers, firefighters, poets and other professionals as guests. “You and Hanni would be a wonderful addition.”
Hanni and I would love to give this a try. It was great to meet Mary Ellen at the bookstore today, and we look forward to meeting Shandy in the future. In the meantime, we’ll keep track of them by reading their dogblog.

A reporter met Hanni today as we came off the train. He shot pictures while we walked along the platform, then escorted us to our speaking event. There, waiting in the wings, was a filmmaker ready to videotape Hanni for a small bit in a documentary. A photographer from another newspaper was there to shoot pictures during the presentation.
The way Hanni was acting – hamming it up for the photos –you’d think she was in Hollywood posing for People Magazine or Entertainment Tonight. But the heavy coat I’m wearing in the background gives her away. We were in Elmhurst. It’s a suburb of Chicago.
I was born and raised in Elmhurst. So was my mom. Flo is 91 years old now, the matriarch of her church. Her Lady friends at Messiah Lutheran Church in Elmhurst asked Hanni and me to come to the church to give a presentation. And when the Lutheran Ladies call, I respond.
So, apparently, do the local newspapers. The paparazzi were from the Daily Herald. And the Elmhurst Press.
The stories – and Hollywood-style photos of Hanni – are scheduled to appear in the local papers in the next couple of weeks. I’m not sure she’ll even make it into the documentary — it’s called A Hero on Every Block and I have no idea when — or if — it ever will be released. But maybe i shouldn’t be so skeptical. The filmmaker videotaped my mom, too, and if ever there was a hero in this world, it’s Flo.
If any of the newspaper stories, photos, or videotape is available online, trust me, I’ll link to them in future posts on the Safe & Sound dogblog.
All right, gotta go. Mr. DeMille? Hanni’s ready for her close-up.

Hanni’s breed may have been important to the Amtrak reservation agent last week (see my previous post) but my fellow passengers Thursday night couldn’t have cared less. The City of New Orleans train was sold out. Everyone was more interested in finding a place to sit than checking out the dog at my feet.
The ride went quickly. We got to Champaign on time. It was a good omen.
Every single thing Hanni and I did after our arrival in Champaign-Urbana went beautifully. We breezed down the sidewalks, crunching on fallen leaves, Hanni remembering all our routes. We ran into old friends everywhere we went – at WILL Radio, at Edison Middle School, at Urbana Free Library, and especially at Jane Addams Bookstore.
Hanni and I signed and Brailled my name – and rubber stamped Hanni’s paw – onto 40 books. We sold out. People were still waiting in line. What to do? Sign and stamp book plates instead!
Customers brought the autographed plates to the cash register and paid in advance for their copies of Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound. They’ll affix their bookplates into the front page once the books arrive.
I signed and stamped 39 book plates. My friend Judy, who assisted Hanni and me, joked that now people are paying just to have me sign slips of paper.
Forty books sold, 39 books promised. Plus I even signed six copies of my first book, Long Time, No See. That makes a total of 85 books! It was all extremely flattering. And great fun.
To top it all off, the weather in Champaign-Urbana was absolutely sensational. Mike drove down from Chicago to join Hanni and me Friday night. He still stores his motorcycle in Urbana, and he was able to take Buster the BMW out for a spin to the forest preserve Saturday while Hanni and I were buzzing around town on foot. Just like old times!
An excerpt from that first book, Long Time, No See helps explain:
“I’d fallen in love with the twin cities of Champaign-Urbana back in my freshman year at the University of Illinois. It didn’t matter that there was nowhere to hike or canoe, or that the campus was surrounded by, even included, corn and soybean fields. It seemed a vibrant place. I was caught up in the rush of thirty-five thousand students hustling from class to class. Now, working full-time there, I was every bit as fond of it….Champaign-Urbana may lack a striking natural beauty—it defines the word “flat,” and the creek that trickles through it, more of a drainage ditch, is known as The Boneyard. But what the two towns have, especially Urbana, is trees. Huge, magnificent old maples and oaks with an unearthly gift for turning brilliant scarlet and sunset yellow. A few white clouds set against a deep sky on a fall afternoon—we could watch them indefinitely from our vantage point on the porch swing.”
Hanni and I didn’t find much time to rest on a porch swing this visit, but boy, we sure enjoyed Champaign-Urbana. Thanks to all of you who greeted us on the street, listened to us on the radio, joined us for a lunch (or a beer or wine!), chauffeured us around, or stood in line for books. We are two very lucky gals.

Mike and I met in Urbana. Our son Gus was born in Urbana. My first Seeing Eye dog, Dora, retired in Urbana. When Hanni first came home to live with us, we lived in Urbana.
We love Urbana.

Our son Gus moved to the Bethesda Lutheran Home in Watertown, Wisconsin in 2003. That’s the year we moved to Chicago. We go back to Urbana often. We have lots of friends there, Mike’s sister Kris and her husband Ed live there, and so do Kris and Ed’s kids and grandkids – our great nieces and nephews.
So it only seems right to return to Urbana to celebrate the publication of this new childrens book. On Friday I’ll do an interview on WILL Radio, the NPR affiliate down there. Hanni and I will visit a Champaign middle school that afternoon. Saturday morning we’re slated to do a presentation at Urbana Free Library. To cap it all off, I’ll sign copies of Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound at Jane Addams Bookstore in downtown Champaign from 2 to 4 pm Saturday afternoon.
Hanni and I will embark, excuse the dog pun, on this trip tomorrow night on the City of New Orleans train. I just got off the phone with Amtrak. Now I know why I kept procrastinating when it came to booking the ticket.
When I phone Amtrak to make a reservation, I always tell them I’ll be traveling with a Seeing Eye dog. This is not a requirement –they’d have to take me with Hanni whether I told them ahead of time or not. I just let them know as a common courtesy.
But geez, the commotion it creates in the reservation process.
“Is it a big dog?”
“Well, yeah. She’s a Seeing Eye dog.”
“How much does it weigh?”
“Sixty pounds.”
I was put on hold. When the Amtrak employee came back on the line, he had more questions.
“What kind of dog is it?”
“A Seeing Eye dog. A guide dog.
“Yeah, but what kind?”
“A cross between a Labrador and a Golden Retriever. Is that what you mean?
“Yes, we need it for our records. So it’s a Yellow Lab?”
“Yes.” Forgive me Hanni, for lying.
I was put on hold. He returned with another question.
“So you are visually impaired?”
“Yes.”
“Will you need any assistance?”
I thought about it for a second. Mike is taking me to Union Station in Chicago, and the Champaign-Urbana station is small enough that Hanni and I can navigate it on our own.
“No.”
“You don’t need any assistance?”
“No, thanks.”
I heard laughter in the background. I didn’t want to think the joke was on me, so I started chuckling, too.
“You guys are funny, “I said.
I was put on hold.
The Amtrak employee finally came back on line, repeated my reservation information, and told me to enjoy the ride. I thanked him and hung up.
People who never ride Amtrak fantasize that a train ride might be romantic. Those of us who regularly ride Amtrak fantasize that our train will arrive on time.
I’m not taking my laptop along with me to Urbana, so you’ll have to wait a few days to find out whether this fantasy comes true. And whether Hanni can impersonate a full-bred Yellow Lab.

When Mike, Hanni and I decided to move from Urbana, Illinois to Chicago in 2003 we looked for a neighborhood that would be friendly, safe, and easy for Hanni and me to navigate.
That’s how we found Printers Row.
Printers Row is a tiny neighborhood in Chicago just south of the Loop. The buildings in our neighborhood were originally used by printing and publishing businesses.
Before electricity, printers used natural light to check their work, so the windows in neighborhood buildings are tall and wide. You know, to let light in. The ceilings are high, too, to accommodate old printing presses. Most of the buildings in Printers Row have been converted into residential lofts. There’s always a lot of activity up and down the street, so I feel safe. When I’m walking around with hanni, I feel like people are looking out for me.
Printers Row is close enough to the Loop that Hanni can walk me to my part-time job at Easter Seals and the weekly writing class I teach for senior citizens at the Chicago Cultural Center.

And so, the neighborhood feels safe, it’s easy to navigate. The last requirement: it had to be friendly.
Trust me, it is. In my previous post I told you about the champagne celebration at our local tavern. Now it’s time to tell you about our local bookstore.
Copies of “Hanni and Beth: Safe and Sound” arrived at Sandmeyer’s Bookstore Wednesday. Ulrich
Sandmeyer called me the minute the books arrived. Mike and I ran right down to admire the box load. One book had already sold by the time we got there – a neighbor had seen Ulrich pulling a copy out of the box and insisted on buying it right away.
“There’s not another book like it,” Ulrich said, marveling at the illustrations inside. “It’s going to sell very, very
well.” To that end, Ulrich immediately placed one copy of Safe & Sound in the front display window.
Ulrich owns the store with his wife Ellen — today she pushed that boxload of books on a pushcart to our friends Pat and Carol’s house on Michigan Avenue. Carol and Pat are the couple who watched Hanni while we were in Poland, you might remember my blog about how much Hanni loved her stay with them. Today Carol and Pat showed their generosity once again, hosting an open house to celebrate the publication of Hanni and Beth: Safe & sound. It was only when I sat down to write this blog post that I remembered: Carol and I met on the street! She had seen an article I wrote for the Chicago Tribune Sunday magazine and recognized me from an accompanying photo. She stopped me on the street afterwards to tell me how much she enjoyed the piece I’d written. We’ve been friends ever since.
I sat with Ellen Sandmeyer at the party, signing, Brailling, and rubber stamping Hanni’s pawprint into books for anyone who wanted to buy one. And lots of people wanted to buy one. Or two! or three! A woman from the writing class I teach even bought SEVEN — she’s in the Safe & sound Frequent Flyer Club now.
Neighbors were there, friends from my book club , my writing group, my senior citizen class came. My sister Cheryl surprised me by bringing Flo to the party — what a delight!
The event was wonderful. My neighbors are great. Once again I was reminded: Mike and I made the right decision when we decided to live in Printers Row.