In Parts I and II of my book “Breaking Barriers: Working and Loving While Blind,” I described how I began forging a relationship with Jules, a black Labrador-Retriever and fifth Guiding Eyes for the Blind guide dog. In Parts III and IV, I wrote about how Jules assisted me in my professional endeavors in New York City and Washington, DC; how he was by my side as I dealt with the deaths of my stepmother and father; and how we moved to Columbia, Missouri, so I could get married.

Since the wedding in 2007, Jules continues to guide me around the neighborhood and has been with me on business trips and to visit my mom and my sister in Cape Cod, Massachusetts. And like me, he continues to adjust to living in the suburbs with my wife, her three stepkids, three standard poodles, and a python named Monty. He generally is a calming influence; he has only barked three times when not playing with the poodle puppies: when I accidentally left him outside during a severe thunderstorm; when a flying squirrel startled him; and when a possum failed to move. He has helped my stepsons fall asleep by being with them at night.

In the book, I described how Jules seeks attention by wriggling between my legs and wagging his tail wildly as I drum on his hindquarters. He also uses this tactic to rile up the poodle puppies who try to dislodge him by leaping at him and nipping his ears. Jules growls and barks menacingly while wagging his tail resulting in frustrated yips from the poodles and bellowed protests from my stepsons as the dog noises overpower the TV babble or video game explosions.

At one point, Jules gained ten pounds due to less exercise and to his occasional partnering with Luke, our oldest standard poodle, to swipe bread, bagels, steak, and on one occasion, an entire breakfast that my oldest stepson and his friend had made as a surprise for the family. However, he lost the weight thanks to the arrival of a standard poodle puppy who bugged him continuously – and Jules loved every moment. (We also did a better job of food-proofing the house.)

Last September, a Guiding Eyes instructor encouraged me to think about retiring Jules, as his pace was slowing and his enthusiasm was waning. After discussing the matter with my family and the school, I decided that Jules’s working career would end on July 29, and that I would arrive at Guiding Eyes on July 30 where I will receive a new dog on August 1. Meanwhile, Jules will move into the house of friends in the area.

I will miss Jules’ workmanlike attitude and laid-back style. I will miss hearing him barking at the poodles in our house and in our fenced-in back yard. I will miss the comments that family members and strangers make about his mysteriously-appearing spots that make him look like a Dalmatian in reverse. I will miss his quirky and stubborn streak that caused a Guiding Eyes instructor to state that he is part dog, part human, and part alien. I will miss his contempt for all dog toys. And I will miss him squirming between my legs and sighing as he is being rubbed.

Yet I can’t help think about my new dog. Will it like me? Can it adjust to my suburban family lifestyle? And will it, like our poodles, insist on dominating the entire universe, or, like Jules, be content to rule just a small portion? Regardless, a new dog promises a new beginning, fresh opportunities, a chance to grow, and who knows? — a catalyst for my next book.

But I still have a few more days to hug Jules and tell him how much I’ll miss him.

(Please note that I will be tweeting about my Guiding Eyes experience under the hashtag #pageb now through August 10.)