Learning life lessons

VERNON — With clumsy youthful abandon, Pheona, a white Shepherd puppy, frolics with the students at Fields of Green Montessori school in Vernon. Children shriek with delight as Pheona, also called Little Phee, bounds around the classroom eagerly accepting the various hugs and pats on the head by all the small hands. When tired, Phee retreats under the desk in the classroom, a symbolic spot, and the students know it.

"Phee sits in the same spot that Seamus used to sit," Ethan Williams says proudly.

"Phee took over Seamus' place," Ella Callaway chimes in. Ella's brother Sasha nods and says solemnly, "Seamus died on Valentine's Day and now we have Phee, it's a cycle of life...I can still see Seamus limping."

Another student, Maci Morano, says, "I think Seamus kind of guided Phee into our world, and I am happy about that."

As the students speak candidly about life and death, Debra Smorto, owner and operator of Fields of Green begins to well up, her wide brown eyes filling with tears. She wipes them as they roll onto her cheeks. She is not ashamed to cry in front of her students, because here at Fields of Green, this is family. And this family has shared in the grief of losing their beloved school dog, Seamus.

"I got Seamus at six weeks, and she became the icon of the school," says Smorto, her soft voice breaking. "She was so gentle and mellow, the kids could do anything to her. She always knew what you were saying. Even when she became deaf, Seamus understood sign language," Smorto pauses. "It's that bond...like you have with your own family, sometimes you don't have to even talk, they just know."

When Seamus, a Golden Retriever Shepherd mix, was diagnosed with cancer, Smorto decided to use the experience as an educational tool to teach the children about the circle of life and death. However, it was the students who ended up teaching Smorto.

She says she was amazed at the strength of the children, and their ability to talk about — and to deal with the fact that death is a part of life — in a way that is so often difficult for adults.

"I was amazed how they handle death, so much better than we as adults do," Smorto says. "We talked about it openly. I don't believe in hiding anything from the kids. I would cry in front of them, We would talk about the scientific aspect of death as well as spiritual beliefs," she says.

An opening to learn Smorto took the opportunity to teach the children about being accepting of different beliefs and religions. Being a holistic school, that teaches life lessons, Smorto was able to walk the fine line of religion, and openly discuss God, the universe and other spiritual beliefs.

"I hate the word tolerate, and do not teach the children to 'tolerate' other beliefs, yet to accept them," Smorto says. "It is so important to talk, and explore your emotions. We don't do time outs here, but rather teach life lessons, and communication and acceptance is so important, because in real life you don't have time outs, you just have to solve it."

Smorto remained honest with her students, keeping them informed of Seamus' condition and continuing to take her to school even when she needed bandages to cover the wounds on her tired body. Since the school goes up to eighth grade, many of the children grew up with Seamus, and appreciated their teacher allowing them to say goodbye.

"On Valentine's Day, the day of love, I knew the end was here and I wanted to keep Seamus home, but the kids insisted on seeing her," Smorto says. "One by one, they came out to the car to hug her and say goodbye...Seamus couldn't even lift her head. It was hard to watch, but the kids were so strong. They all wanted to say goodbye."

Losing a love For Smorto, the loss was great. "You have someone there 24/7 and you turn and they are supposed to be there and they're not, it leaves such a hole," she describes. A hole that only another dog could help fill.

Smorto wasn't thinking about another dog, yet she kept noticing white Shepherds everywhere. Eventually she did a search on Pet Finder, and came across a picture of a dog that just jumped out at her.

"It had the same face as Seamus!" Smorto says.

Smorto picked up Pheona on Good Friday, saving her from a high kill shelter, and instantly she says, she felt that Seamus had led her to the new dog, that she would call little Phee.

"Phee behaves so much like Seamus did, so calm and sweet, sleeping under the exact table that Seamus used to," she says. "She senses Seamus was here."

The children agree. "Seamus kind of guided Phee here and guided Miss Smorto to pick her," says student Maxx Hartmann.

Smorto agrees, calling herself a good "puppy mom," she looks forward to raising Phee with the students of Fields of Green.

"I believe in raising a dog, not training one," says Smorto.

"For our school it was the end of an era with Seamus, but now it is the beginning of a new one."