From Another Century

I’m from another century. I was born in 1955 (yeah, that’s right. I’m a 52 year old hot and cranky menopausal woman). To put it into context, I was born BEFORE the moon landing, the creation of the Internet, the assassination of JFK, desegregation in the USA, 911, the invention of things like cell phones, hybrid cars, i-pods, CD’s, GPS, and personal computers. When I was a kid, we did not have terms in our vocabulary like ‘global warming’, ‘weapons of mass destruction”, climate change’, ‘political correctness’, ‘carbon credits’, ‘environmental footprint’, ‘Me generation’, ‘baby boomers’, ‘cultural mosaic’,  or ‘google it’.  So, today, as I used Windows Messenger to ‘Live chat’ with a woman who is an urban planner in the United Kingdom (she discovered me through reading my blog), I suddenly realized how much my life has been changed by the technological transformation that has occurred in the world in the relatively short time since my birth. It was a startling and heady experience. I felt both awed and humbled. I don’t understand how technology works for the most part.  I doubt if many people understand it either, or can even explain how (technically)  e-mail or ‘Live messages’ get onto their computer screens. We punch keys and click away, totally oblivious to the power beneath our fingers and how the information finds its way onto our screen or comes out of our speakers.  I try not to dwell on this stuff… ’cause it can make you crazy! However, I am pleased that I had the opportunity to chat with Annie in England about transit and other things.  It struck me as significant enough to merit a blog… thank goodness some things still strike me as a ‘big deal’ some times. 

Opal Goes To The UU Picnic

I am told that for the past nine years, the annual Universalist Unitarian Church of Halifax picnic has had beautiful weather on almost each occasion. Not so this year! It rained steadily in Nova Scotia for most of the day. When Opal and I arrived with our friend and food in tow, it was no surprise to learn that the UU’s would be eating indoors today. In true UU fashion, our congregation took lemons and made lemonade.  Sure, it would have been lovely to be outside, hanging off the deck and playing ring-toss on the church’s grassy lawn, but Plan ‘B’ was plenty of fun. The pot luck food was excellent and plentiful.  The ‘After Choir’ sounded great with their guitars and kazoos accompanying tunes like “Don’t Fence Me In”, “In the Good Old Summertime” and other familiar sing-along songs. The congregational photo was taken, as it is every year. This year, for the first time, there will be a beautiful black lab posing elegantly in the front row, front paws crossed, shining like a star and proudly wearing her Guide dog harness.  There’s no question that Opal would have had more fun outside had the weather co-operated.  I had arrived hopeful and prepared with her retractable leash and toys, but they remained unused in my knapsack. Maybe next year. We had fun all the same (right Opal?).

Teach Your Parents Well

Yeah, I know. It’s a rip off of the CSNY (Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young) song, “Teach Your Children Well”. Opal and I were emerging from a public washroom at the mall yesterday. We stopped by the water fountain for a drink of cold water on such a  warm day. As I was attending to Opal’s drink, the little boy who had been loitering nearby ASKED if he could pat Opal.  I told him politely, “Sorry, she’s working, but thanks for asking. Maybe next time you see us I will have more time and can take her harness off so you can give her pat, OK?”  The kid was fine with that. As I dumped the remainder of the water down the fountain’s drain, the boy’s mom came out of the ladies room. Before I could react, mom started fussing with Opal, talking to her, giving her way too much ‘luvin’ and oblivious to the meaning of the harness Opal was wearing.  I gave Opal a tug and a firm “Leave it”. Actually, the “Leave it” was more for mom’s benefit.  Then I told the boy, “Maybe you can teach your mom that she needs to ASK to pat ANY dog, and that Guide dogs don’t get patted when they are wearing their harness.”  We left to shop.  

The girls and I are going incognito this weekend. See ya later!

Guns

Good going there in the USA (said with the largest sarcastic tone one can muster). One comment from me: gun control… one of the reasons I live in Canada. 

Opal’s Confession

I need to get this off my chest. My very hairy chest. Mum doesn’t know it yet, but while she was doing the laundry somewhere out there in our apartment building, I ate Lucy’s cat food ’cause the bathroom door was wide open and there it was… Oh, and I hid mum’s slippers… and I got on the Internet and ordered a bunch of stuff from E-bay with her credit card (I REALLY need some smart toys) … and I ‘phoned up Jager (the German boy upstairs who works as a Guide AND a shepherd!) to ask him out for lunch… and I sent sent an e-mail to the Chicago off leash dog recreation group to confirm our play date for the weekend. I love to fly, so I don’t understand why we’re not going to these neat outings…. and I opened the ‘fridge and looked around for something interesting. Sheesh! it’s rough living with a vegetarian mum! There wasn’t even an apple in there, so I guess that means we’re doing the shopping thing today… Oh no! she’s coming back… gotta go!

More on Web Accessibility

I have not heard back from our city’s web master since I suggested they test the HRM (Halifax) site using a screen-reading software download. I suggested last week to our web master that he/she download a free version of Jaws and attempt to use the speech output program (with the computer monitor turned OFF). I have an image in my mind of this person sitting at their desk, with hands covering their ears, and shouting… “Shut up you stupid Jaws voice!!!! I can’t find anything on this site!!!!”

If only it were true. Did our web master extraordinaire actually have the hutzpah to follow through with my wise advice? I doubt it…. But hey! if you did, ‘K’, how about trying out the audio ‘captcha’ options for security letter de-scrambles?  You know what I’m talking about…. often you are asked to enter the swirly letters, words or numbers on the screen in order to move on to your next step. These are used on many web sites as a security measure before you can access the  ’contact’,  ’access our site’, ‘ make payment’,  ’apply for ‘  or ‘order’ applications. The audio option  often turns out to be a total mess of garbled nonsense which no one can understand, no matter how many times they try to listen to it. How’s that working for ya, eh?

Dog Day Afternoon

My dog day afternoon is nothing like Al Pacino’s character’s  (Sonny) day in the Hollywood classic, Dog Day Afternoon.   No, Sidney Lumet’s film had darker imagery on THAT dog day afternoon. Sonny and Sal were having an entirely different PM than Opal and I are having today. (Though I did like the bit in the movie when Sonny starts shouting, “Attica” to the crowd outside the bank he is attempting to rob)  It is similarly warm in Halifax today as it was in  the New York setting in the film.  Naturally, local meteorologists are starting to cite temperatures with “Humidex” values again. It seems that we just can’t say, “It’s hot and sticky” any more. I left my work on the desk to relieve Opal.  Upon returning towards our building’s entrance, she halted and dropped on the grass nearby where she lay and refused to get up.  ”Time to work on my tan, mum” reads the thought bubble over her head. I indulged her for a few minutes, until I  felt the UV rays penetrating my unshielded scalp…. (UV Index… another stat in our current jargon).  I’m not sure why a black dog wants to fry herself in the sun, but clearly it is a rite of summer for Opal. Bring on my sunblock and sunhat! It is summertime. I once made the mistake of announcing that it was, “SUMMERTIME!”  to Opal one morning as we walked up the road. She stopped in her tracks and spun around to look at me in anticipation of…“SUPPERTIME!”. The fact that it was 11 am did not enter into my hopeful lab’s mind. 

 

Accessible Voting–I’ll Vote For That!

The electoral process is still held in high regard by most of society. The right to participate in the democratic process has been hard fought by many groups. It continues to be fought in countries such as Zimbabwe.  Some Canadians take for granted the opportunity to participate FULLY in the democratic voting process.  This includes seeking nomination as a candidate, participating in candidate meetings, informing oneself about the party platforms, voting in secret, and being able to independently verify how one voted.   My parents instilled in me a healthy sense of responsibility about my ‘duty’ to vote. I have done so, at all levels of government, since I reached the age of majority. I have voted by proxy when I was out of the country. I have struggled to the polls on crutches.  There are three components that are essential to voting: 

1. Secrecy: privacy
2. Independent: without assistance from another person to choose and mark your choice.
3. Verification: being able to check how you voted after you have marked it.

Voting has become more accessible for people who are disabled, however, it remains unacceptably inaccessible for most people who are blind, deaf-blind, or partially sighted.  Most often, a template is offered, but this offers no means of verification. Blind people usually must depend on voting with another person to set up the template etc.. Braille ballots are sometimes available, but Braille is not used by over 80% of adult people who are blind.  Some jurisdictions are attempting alternative means of voting for the blind. These include using on-site computers with audio, tactile, sip and puff interfaces which make it possible for people who are blind or quadriplegic to vote independently. Electronic (Internet) voting is also being tried (Halifax’s next municipal election will allow people to vote over the Net or with a cell phone and a pin number which they will receive in the mail). Intelivote Systems of Dartmouth NS is working to convince cities in Canada that electronic voting will increase voting stats, particularly with younger voters.  It also has environmental appeal. Me? I prefer the on-site buzz at the polls. BUT, I want to see the next provincial election here, to be fully accessible to me and others who have vision loss. I want the candidates to provide me and others who are partially sighted with their platform and  ’pitch’ in alternate formats. I want to go to the polls and be given an accessible list of candidates names on the ballot (in Braille, audio electronic or large print) and I want to vote ALONE, and to CHECK MY CHOICE on my ballot MYSELF before I put it in the box. Tomorrow, I meet with my MLA, Graham Steele and a representative from the Elections Nova Scotia. Hmm. 

UU Flower Communion Sunday

I am still relatively new to the UU (Universalist Unitarian) Church of Halifax. It appears that despite our broad, inclusive approach to faith and spirituality, UU’s still enjoy a tradition or two. Today is Flower communion Sunday. Let me explain; the summer solstice (June 21) is big with UU’s. All things planetary are. So, given that today is the Sunday closest to the solstice, our  celebration takes place today. I was sent an e-mail containing the order of service and a note about today. It read:  ”The Flower communion Service is a uniquely Unitarian tradition; this year we are combining it with a celebration of summer solstice. Please bring a single blossom to share with the congregation; at the end of the service you will take a different blossom home.”  Hmm. I live in an apartment building. No private flower garden here. That does not rule out the common grounds (where Opal relieves). I had an idea that there is a ‘bush’ with flowers on it, as well as the newly planted spring flower beds nearby. This was confirmed yesterday by a sighted friend. We nonchalantly inspected the flowers. “This is a nice rose bud. Just remember where to find it in the morning before church and snip it”, suggested Lee Anne. Hmm. Sure, why not? I’m game to try and hack a flower off of a bush when who knows how many old biddies are staring out their windows, watching every move I make (They are the ones who “DON’T WANT TO WATCH THE DISGUSTING SIGHT OF THAT DOG..” -Opal relieving herself- Remember?), hoping to have a little something extra to complain about… But who cares?! It’s Flower Communion Sunday at my church, darn it! I’m going to throw caution to the wind and snip three or four blossoms off! Come on, Opal. We have a petty theft to commit. 

Last Word On Sausage Dogs!!!!

It seems that I have offended/irritated/annoyed/ticked off/angered a big bunch of ‘Dachsund’ dog owners. Sheesh! Lighten up you guys. Who knew that sausage dog enthusiasts have their own web site and forum?Apparently they are watching for any malicious commentary written about  the little bangers they travel with. I was front and centre yesterday: “Blind blogger hurls insults at Dachshund owner” read the web page. I entered my defense: I was actually PO’d at the irresponsible owner.  In fact, you wiener dog (oops, I mean ‘Long-dog’) owners should know that I once had such a pepperoni pooch myself. No, it was definitely not a Guide Dachshund. That would be one LONG handle on the harness. And how would a sausage-guide climb the steps to get on a bus? I’m not saying it couldn’t be worked out… just that the wieners are a little too stressed-out most of the time to do the job a Guide dog does. But hey, who would have thought there would be miniature ponies (I kid you not) being used as Guides for the blind.  Hmm. Now there’s an access law waiting to be written!  Yes, I had a low-riding canine. She was a good pal, but a bit of a nut. Those anal glands always seem to be in need of emptying. Again, it’s not the dog, just the owner I have a beef banger with. Sort your nutty dogs out! 

Help Me! I’m Drowning!!!

Dear Wise Advice, Help me! I’m drowning in dog hair! The vacuum cleaner died today. I gave it a little rest, as I often do when it quits, but today, it just wouldn’t start up again. I am frantic! What if I choke to death on Bubba’s hair?  He’s shedding like no body’s business. There’s dog hair everywhere! It’s on my furniture (yeah, I know that’s why they call it FURniture), in my bed and my fridge. My clothes are covered with the stuff. I groom Bubba all the time,  yet everyday, I gather a bagful. I say to him, “Look Bubba, we can make little sweaters for all the children in Alaska”. I’m dead serious.  Can you send one of those crisis teams to help me? Do you have one for hoovers? Yours truly, Mrs. N. Frittata-Chicago. 

Dear Mrs. Frittata, Gather yourself there Nellie! Help is in the way. As it happens, my new sweetie  once had a job as … yes! a vacuum cleaner repair-person!  The entire team will consist of my sweetie, two Mounties (you never know), a retired accountant and a few musicians from Symphony Nova Scotia (they’re a little bored).  Be on the lookout for a VERY tiny vehicle. Our gas budget is shot, dear… so we’ll need to pile them into an Echo or some other affordable car. Maybe you could take Bubba to the Chicago off leash Dog Play Group while you’re waiting for the team to arrive.  I hear they’re going on a cruise and to a bar this weekend. I would save that hair if I were you. That’s a cottage industry in the making if I ever heard one! ‘Frittata Wear’. Has a nice ring to it, eh?

Hey Chicago!

“Won’t you please come to Chicago?…”  Remember that Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young tune? Oh never mind. It’s a lyric from a CSNY song from the 70’s.  It seems that the Chicago Off Leash Dog Play Group that Opal and I belong to, REALLY want us to visit. Today, we were invited to a patio party at a Chicago Bar coming up on Thursday.  That’s not our cup of tea (or pint of beer). We also (and this would be up our alley) must decide if we can get to the Anti-Cruelty Canine Cruise happening on the weekend. Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure that the doggie play group finds ‘nice’ places to cavort with the pups, but my memories of Chicago? Not so good. Maybe I was in the wrong part of town, but I found it rather crowded, with dirty streets and a very smelly waterfront. Wasn’t it Chicago Harbour that used to catch fire spontaneously every summer? Maybe I’m thinking of Detroit.  Perhaps they had a harbour clean up like Halifax. Our Mayor, Peter Kelly recently announced that Halifax Harbour is now safe to swim in.  Hmm… Somehow, I don’t think that Opal and I will be donning our water wings any time soon. As for our buds in the Chicago Dog Play group? I think THEY should consider a road trip… to Nova Scotia! Much cleaner, quieter, friendlier and hey, we have seafood, and plenty of (WAY TOO MUCH IF YOU ASK ME) Celtic stuff like fiddle music (groan). Once the doggie caravan arrives and gets it’s fill of Nova Scotia, they’ll find that it’s just a hop-skip-and-a-jump to Prince Edward Island. PEI is a tiny province, famous for its red soil, potatoes, Anne Of Green Gables stuff (WAY TOO MUCH ANNE STUFF), lobster and the birthplace of Canadian confederation. Enough with the travelogue! I have a Chicago play date to RSVP to.

HEY!!! Wise Advice For the IDIOT with the Crazy Sausage Dog!

Hey! Yeah, I’m talking to you, babe… the idiot with the yappy wiener dog that jumped Opal today. I’ve had it with you. If you can’t control that nutty knackwurst, you had better stop walking the same sidewalks that  I’M  walking on with Opal. Maybe you think that you have some kind of god-given right to allow your fat, whiny bratwurst to do whatever the hell it pleases, but I’ve got news for you lady: Next time?, I’m tracking you and that jumbo sausage- on- legs down, and I PROMISE that I will report you to animal control. You are very lucky that I was too concerned about MY dog today, or else I would have whacked you upside-the-head on the spot! What were you thinking, allowing that horrible hot dog to attack Opal?????!!!!! You had to see us coming.  You’re the same pinhead who was at the Tim’s coffee shop last week, aren’t you? You left that little lump of liverwurst in the entry way, between the doors! … where it barked, frightened old ladies and would not allow ME AND MY REGISTERED GUIDE DOG to enter!! My wise advice? Keep that annoying and hazardous poor excuse for a pet dog out of our way!

Opal Goes To High School!

Opal rarely complains about going to boring places.  Sure, some of the meetings I force her to sit through are a bit of a snooze, but overall, I  think she enjoys the variety of places we go to. Today, we went somewhere totally new… Citadel High School. I had not been in ANY high school since I graduated from MCMHS in 1972.  Honestly?  I was feeling a little apprehensive about entering into the fray of 1700 students in this spanking new building on Trollope street in Halifax. It’s exam week, so I don’t think they were all present. However, there was a lot of activity and confusion in the administration office where I was to meet the English teacher with whom I had a meeting.  The secretary was fielding frantic pleas from students…  ”Mr. T. told me I had to get a ____ form before I can write the exam!”…”somebody took my stuff out of my locker!” ….  The admin person tried to calm the students by encouraging them to breathe and “look through that cart for lost locker items”).  We had arrived early, so we sat and eavesdropped on the conversations of the kids poking through a gigantic cart of confiscated stuff.  Apparently, they didn’t all hear about the deadline to empty their lockers.  If they did, they did not for a second, believe that the locks would be chopped off and the lockers cleaned out, as they had been warned.  There seemed to be a good vibe  with students, staff and teachers. Maybe they were heady with dreams of summer vacation, graduation and ‘moving on’ which resulted in them being nicer to one another. The meeting with the English teacher?  After being introduced to the vice principal, we went to the cafeteria. It was pretty quiet for a high school cafeteria. (My high school caf days sometimes come back to me in nightmares).  I hear they serve better food now.  The meeting’s purpose was to iron out some details for the 2008 Writing Contest which the Halifax chapter of the AEBC (Alliance for Equality of Blind Canadians) has launched.  In the fall, the new crop of grade ten students will (little do they know as they now sit their grade 9 exams)  write a 400 word essay based on the question, ” What if I woke up one day, and could not see?”   They will submit these essays to their English teachers. Then, edited versions will be sent to AEBC chapter members in other Canadian cities to be judged according to AEBC criteria.  They will be sent electronically so that the judges (who are blind) can ‘read’ them independently with adaptive computer software. These volunteer judges will decide which essays are most introspective and meet the yet-to-be-determined criteria. The finalists will receive prizes (yet to be solicited, but it will likely be cash and electronics) AND the winning essay writer will (hopefully) receive wide media attention through publication and reading of his/her essay on radio etc. This is a great opportunity for kids to start thinking about blindness and disability. In grade 10 (average age is 15 years), kids tend to be a little…umm… ’stunned’ (not all of them, of course).  That is not typically an age when it is cool to be ‘nice’ .  Thoughtfulness and awareness of ones surroundings are not commonly part of their make-up. Maybe it’s genetic. I was probably just as ’stunned’ as many of them are, when I was 15 years old. To be fair, many have had zero personal experience with someone with a disability. They just need a chance to think about it for a while. Hopefully, the writing contest will help them do that.  Bye the way, Opal loved the buzz in the school. She was hopeful about being given the stuffed animal that one of the students was waving around (it was in the cart of confiscated locker items), but alas, it was returned to the cart. She also anticipated a chance to scarf up the bits of food on the cafeteria floor, but no such luck! Mum is quick on the draw.  I am sure that she will enjoy returning to Citadel to meet with the kids in October when I  get to tell them about the writing contest. It will be exciting to navigate a Citadel High school during peak class hours!

Congratulations from Canada

Congratulations to the happy couples in California who married yesterday.  Special wishes of good luck to Del Martin (age 87 ) and Phyllis Lyon (age 83 ), her partner of FIFTY YEARS who finally were allowed to make it all legal. Sheesh! Good going California. It’s about time. 

A Good Distraction

I go on and on about  things that distract Guide dogs; smells, people patting and calling out, noises etc. Opal and  I visit schools and other venues instructing people on Guide dog etiquette. Distraction is a big issue for Guide dogs, sometimes interfering with the work and safety of both dog and handler. However, today I am here to tell you that there are moments when Guide dogs NEED distraction. In fact, I am giving food for thought that any dog owner can feast on.  This morning, Opal was fussing with her ear (again). Labs have drop ears (long and floppy) that cover the ear canal and other bits (which I don’t know the anatomically-correct names of).  This creates the perfect medium in which organisms and bacteria can grow… into infection, particularly in warm weather. It’s no big deal, IF you take care of your lab’s ears with regular cleaning and respond quickly when an infection takes hold. Smelling your dog’s ears will usually tell you what kind of shape they are in.  Of course, my girl tells me herself, in her own way.  I know the sound of a paw doing some furious scratching in an ear. I say firmly,  ”get your foot out of your head”.  If this does not stop the ear scratching, then I move on to plan ‘B’.   I bring out the ‘magic drops’ (Burrow’s solution), prescribed by our vet.  I  use  them on  a semi-regular basis in the summer. I keep them on hand, so I am not running to the vet (Kaching $$$$) every time she gets a funky ear.  The vet also gave me some dandy little plastic syringes with which to suck up the correct amount of liquid. I discovered long ago that it is impossible to tell how many drops you have squirted (or not) into the ear if you are squeezing drops directly from a bottle. What does this have to do with distraction? Opal, like most dogs, does not appreciate having drops shot into her ears. Who would?! They are cold and feel funny (initially). I know that fifteen minutes after she has them on board, she will feel the itch and discomfort go away. It’s getting through that fifteen minutes that is key. This is when I need to distract her. I want the drops to stay in, and not to get licked out (Opal will stick her foot in her ear and then lick whatever comes out… she has no fingers).  Fortunately, my dog is a busybody. If I start doing something interesting, she will forget about the ear and become engrossed in watching me. Kids operate pretty much the same way. Harping about NOT doing something (example: “stop picking your nose!”) will get you nowhere. In fact, there is a good chance your kid (or dog) will get even more obsessive about whatever it is you are trying to get them to stop doing,  (just to spite you–grin). Hmm.  So, this morning,  the first thing I thought of to distract Opal, was to whip out the exercise machine. I hadn’t used the sculling rower for weeks, so Opal was very keen on observing her fat, old mum gliding back and forth on a beam, arms flailing, sweat pouring off, making huffing and puffing noise, and commenting that she thought (or felt) she had rowed to the mid-Atlantic. In fact, Opal was so keen,  that she forgot all about the ear she had been so determined to fuss with. Mum? She got some disparately needed conditioning.  Don’t get into a futile and circuitous ‘don’t do that’ exchange with your dog (or kid) when all you need to do, is DISTRACT them. A little distraction can be a useful tool in many situations.

Opal Goes To Chicago Beach Dog Party (almost)

There are times when I think I am stuck in a kind of Internet group hell. I joined  the Chicago Off-Leash Dog Play Group on the Internet last week. Why, you ask? I am still trying to get information on off-leash dog parks to back my proposal for a service dog run/park here in Halifax. I have cruised through every service dog blog and every cyber dog park-related link on the web. Somehow, I was hopeful when I joined the Chicago dog play group. My reasoning was to access a bunch of people who know their dog parks and ask them how these things get set up. It was looking good. I created my mandatory profile (Opal is a 4 year old black lab etc) and sent out my queries for information to support my proposal in Halifax. No replies on that yet. However, I WAS in invited to the beach party for the dog play group with Opal this weekend… in Chicago. Dutifully, we RSVP’d our regrets…. twice. On Friday, I was reminded to look for the dog group flag at our meet- up point at the beach or to use my cell phone to find them if I did not see the flag.  Wear your Chicago Dog Play Group ID they advised.  Sigh.  I’m sure they were crushed when we did not arrive. I can imagine the frenzied play and doggie cavorting that went on without us.  God knows, we tried to get there.  I sent an e-mail to Prime Minister Harper requesting he push through an emergency visa for me (I don’t think we have a foreign affairs minister these days. Maxine Bernier was booted out after he left classified documents at his girlfriend’s house…the one with alleged criminal links).  We  waited for Steven’s  private Canadian government plane to fly us down to Chicago, but it never arrived.  It must have been called into action on a vital political junket.  Now, I am about to write to all of Opal’s dog pals and apologize profusely about our no-show. It hardly seems fair.   All I want to do is get a dog run/park here for service dogs like Opal (who can’t get to the off-leash play group events in Chicago).

Wise Advice For Web Masters….on ACCESSIBILITY

Call me wishful. I had an inspired moment yesterday. The web master for our city’s web site contacted me after I had sent in a complaint about not being able to ‘read’ a lot of stuff on the HRM site with my screen reading software. Screen reading software (like Jaws or Guide) enables someone who cannot see their monitor (like blind folk), to listen to a mechanical or synthesized  voice reading whatever is on the screen;  e-mail, web page etc.  At least, that’s what is suppose to happen in  theory. In practice, many web sites are ridiculously difficult or impossible to navigate with Jaws. There is a movement afoot towards web accessibility standards. Retail giant, Target in the USA is in a legal battle with the NFB (National Federation of the Blind) over their inaccessible web site. Hmm.  Here’s my wise advice today for web masters (so that they can  ’test’ their own sites for accessibility): go to the Freedom scientific site…

http://freedomscientific.com/fs_downloads/jaws.asp

 and download a FREE trial version of Jaws software. Learn to use it. Then turn your computer monitors OFF and navigate your own site using Jaws. Try the links, the documents, opening pages etc.  Have fun!

Opal in Love

Mum’s busy, so I thought I would sneak onto her computer and let the world know…I’m in LOVE!  Yes, I met him last night. He’s drop-dead gorgeous. A lovely German boy who is new in town.  He must have two jobs because mum talks about him being a shepherd too. I’m so impressed! As if Guiding isn’t job enough.  He is only 2 years old. That  means I am the older woman! His name is Jagar, except you don’t pronounce the J. One of those ‘J’ litter dogs from The Seeing Eye. I guess he has duo-citizenship, maybe even triple… he’s German, trained in the USA and now lives in Canada.  He’s very hot. At least, he will be this summer with that big fur coat.  Mum heard that if he goes to Mexico (lucky dog!) with his handler for a visit, the pavement will be so hot, that he’ll have to wear his boots!  I also think he likes me. He looks out the window when I’m out ‘getting busy’.  Yes! He lives upstairs! Maybe I’ll see him again  soon. I’m  getting to like these meetings mum goes to sometimes.  Especially when I get to ride the bus all the way with my new boyfriend. Sigh. oh those young German boys are sooo handsome! I only hope he doesn’t get too overworked with the shepherding job.

Did You Know….?

Here’s a little known fact. A dog’s nose has a unique pattern to it, much like a human fingerprint. If you were to blot your dog’s nose and imprint it on a card, it would have a distinct pattern, sort of like a topographical map of Costa Rica…BUT DON’T STICK YOUR DOG’S NOSE ONTO AN INK PAD!  IF YOU INSIST ON TRYING TO GET A “DOG NOSE  PRINT”, USE AN INNOCUOUS SUBSTANCE THAT WON’T HARM YOUR DOG OR LEAVE IT WITH A FUNNY-COLOURED SHNOZ!  If you ever wondered why your dog is so easily distracted by a smell (the fascination with all dog butts, for example), it’s because dog’s have a sense of smell that is 1000 to 10,000 times more powerful than a human’s. The pet dog’s need to stop and sniff every pole and tree on it’s way to the corner, is an example of the ‘doggie telegraph’ in action.  When they are engrossed in sniffing that twig, they are getting plenty of information about the last dog(s) who peed there; age, breed, sex, health condition and more. I have read that the instinct male dogs have to pee as high as they can on a post or tree, stems from a time when dogs wanted to make any wild animals who might be around, think that they were bigger than they might actually are, thereby defending themselves against potential attack. In my opinion, scent is the biggest distraction for a Guide dog. At least, it is for Opal. She can even be distracted by the scent of someone who owns a dog but is not with their dog (scent on clothing).

True Bus Conversations

I thought I had heard everything. Apparantly not. Here are a few gems I have heard on Halifax Metro Transit buses recently.

Driver to passenger: “Yeah, that driver clipped a tree with her bus and took out a bunch of windows. It was an articulated (acordian-tyle) bus and she was still on probation.”

Driver to passenger: “I’m doing a 12 hour shift today from 5 to 5… then I’m driving my cab this evening ’till midnight”.  This makes me wonder how safe the passengers are with a bleary-eyed driver.  I think both the cab and bus passengers have something to worry about.

Passenger to driver: “yeah, I was on a  #4  bus last week. The driver whacked someone on the head with the Bus’s side-mounted mirror as he pulled into the terminal. The guy got on the bus all dazed and passed on the offer to talk to a supervisor”.

Driver to passenger: ” I like this route. I haven’t driven this for a while… I forgot to do Mountain Road on the first trip… don’t know if anybody got left behind”.

Me to the Driver: ” um, I think you took a wrong turn there at the roundabout. This is a # 6 you’re driving, not a #14. We’re going towards Herring Cove”.

Driver to all passengers: “OK, that’s it. Everybody off. My bus keeps stalling. You’ll have to get some other bus”.

Driver to me: ” you can have a seat on the left….I mean my other left”.

 

 

Guide Dog Confession

OK, I know I’m not suppose to play with mum’s computer, but maybe just this once… We were at King’s College yesterday. Mum was invited to set up a display table at the Diversity Fair of Interchange 2008. I don’t know what it was really about, except that there were lots of people walking around, talking and exchanging papers. Mum gave me some ice cubes under the table at the luncheon. The lasagna smelled good, but no one at the table dropped any near me… rotten luck!   Back at the display, the table was full of AEBC stuff (you know, that group that does advocacy for blind folks). Lots of people came by to visit.  Most of them were women. Most of them wore sandals. Their toes were just within my reach. I confess! I love to lick women’s feet!  I can’t help myself. Maybe it’s the soap they use. Or the salt in their sweat. Who cares?!!! I LOVE to lick toes. It’s a good thing that most of them did not mind yesterday… sheesh, I remember this one lady whose toes I licked when we were on a bus.. she screamed so loudly… she was almost as upset as that cab driver,  the one who also screamed when I sneezed in his cab?… he nearly drove off the road!   Mum’s coming! Gotta go! (Opal)

Bogus News Flash!!! Guide dog takes out old lady!

Now hear this! The following is a bogus blog. This COULD have happened… but DID NOT… well,  maybe not ALL of it is a hoax.

Guide dogs get to play just like pet dogs do. I take Opal out on her ‘Flexi’ (retractable leash) so that she can have an opportunity to run a bit and sniff a lot.  We use the grassy area just outside of our apartment building. It’s a large area, 200 X 30 feet situated between the building line and a little walkway leading to the main door. I put her play collar on (it has a tag, a bell and a ring to secure the flexi clasp onto) and stow her regular leash in my pocket. Out comes the squeaky rubber boomerang toy! It’s a dollar store purchase, remarkably resilient. Trouble is, it’s pink. Dog’s don’t see the pink/red/yellow colour spectrum much. These dog toys come in red and pink so that they appeal to humans. If you want your dog to really see his toy or ball,  pick a blue or green one. It’s usually fine locating it, just as long as the thing is moving. I fling it within Flexi range (30 feet). Opal takes off and grabs it, running the perimeter of the grassy area until she has “blown the stink off” , as we say in Nova Scotia. After that, it becomes more of an idle retieving game, interspersed with breaks to sniff and eat the grass. That’s the point at which she loses track of her toy. I’m pretty good at finding the thing myself, though sometimes we enlist sighted help to locate it. That was the case the other day. It was hot by Nova Scotia standards, so Opal quickly tired of running, and chose to sniff and graze instead.  The boomerang was out of sight and mind (both of our sights, and HER mind). I  heard footsteps on the pavement nearby.  ”Oooh, hello Helen”, says one of my neighbours in her old, shaky voice. Margaret is a very tiny old lady, at least 900 years old by the sound of her voice. She’s probably only 85 or so, and still quite spry for someone with such a shaky voice. “Margaret, do you see our toy?”, I ask. “Opal has lost it on the grass again”.  Margaret wandered onto the grass with us (this was her first mistake). “Oooh, there it is. I’ll get it for you, Helen”. (this was her second mistake).By now,   I am running the potential for disaster through my mind.  Opal is all excited with anticipation of a new play partner. Margaret picks up the boomerang and hands it to me. I’ve had Opal on a short length all the while (beauty of the flexi). I thought that Margaret was wandering back to the pavement (my first mistake).  She had not (her third mistake). I threw the pink toy in the opposite direction and Opal took off.  Opal picked up steam after she nabbed it (Opal’s first mistake) and moved like a runaway freight train towards Margaret (everyone’s mistake). I realized too late that Margaret was still on the lawn (my second or third mistake?). THIS IS THE BOGUS PART!!!– Opal knocked Margaret off her pins. After the paramedics left, I had a long talk with Opal… at the dog pound.. through the bars of the cage. THIS IS WHAT REALLY HAPPENED!!! I applied the flexi’s brake a nano-second before Opal made contact. Margaret, as usual had no idea how close she came to an emergency room visit. We all went inside. Margaret was fine. I was shaking. Opal had no clue… but I decided to start a social program with some friends. Opal needs more people (bedsides me) in her social and play life. Why does everyone want to fuss with her when she’s working?  She could really use some off-the-clock time with people. 

Like Cats and Dogs

I have had dogs and cats in my life since I was a child… but never both species at the same time.  That would all change when I decided to get a Guide dog in 2005. My cat, Little Lucy, did not seem to know or care what I was going on about when I broke the news to her. I had seven months or so to ‘plan’ before I left for Ontario (to attend the Guide dog training) before the big convergence of dog and cat.  More accurately, I had seven months to fret and worry about the imminent demise of my cat. Sometimes, I varied my paranoid ideology with visions of a big dog being clawed into bloody submission by Lucy. I had no hard and fast research to back up my notion that there would be trouble; just the usual stereotypical references to ‘fighting like cats and dogs’ that I had been exposed to. My friends, family members, neighbours, and the trainers at Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind were patient with me as I asked probing questions and tenaciously sought advice like a dog with a meaty bone. They pointed out the obvious; Lucy would be ‘upset’ for a while.  Then there were things that launched me into a frenzy of home-preparedness activity; chiefly, the installation of a device (rope, hook and eye) on the bathroom door. This would, in theory, leave enough of an opening to allow Lucy to enter the bathroom and access her food, but very cleverly, keep out the dog I was to come home with. I had dismissed one brainiac’s idea of cutting a cat hole in my door… I was responsible for damages to the flat if we moved. I jigged the device without difficulty. It was the LENGTH of the rope that nearly launched a United Nations summit. I had no idea what size dog I would be coming home with, but I did not think it would be too small a dog. Yet, my nephew insisted I shorten the rope and limit the access space every time he came over to visit and passed comment on my ‘rig’. By the time I was done, I felt certain that a Miniature Schnauzer could not squeeze into my bathroom. There was more. I spent an entire 24 hour period trying to coax Lucy to pee in her new litter box. Again, after much consultation, it seemed advisable to up-grade to the covered type of box. I  recall sitting outside the new,  deluxe model with Lucy in the middle of the night, waving treats and begging her to ‘try it’. She would burst, I thought, feeling helpless as I listened to her cry in frustration.  Once I figured out that the ‘door’ (flap on the litter-box) was scaring her, I removed it and resumed my plea. Her success overwhelmed me. I felt like a mum whose kid has finally been potty-trained. She was showered with praise and love.   It was not easy to leave Lucy with my friend, Alice for a month while I was in Manotick.  Something odd happened when I boarded the flight to Ottawa…I  almost completely put thoughts of Lucy out of my mind. That was a good thing, because Guide dog training is very demanding. It was not until Opal and I were on the return flight to Halifax, that I really gave much thought to Lucy again.  Opal and I had a few days alone before Lucy was due back home. I did not give her much thought during those few days either. Opal and I were shattered. It was all we could do to eat, sleep, groom, and relieve ourselves. It’s a little hazy now, but when Lucy arrived home with Alice in the carrier (and her van full of ’stuff’ –litter-box, dishes, grooming tools, bed, condo, body pillow, food etc),  she bolted for the bookcase as she first set eyes on Opal’s gigantic black head. There was some minor screeching.  I turned to Alice and said, “That went pretty well, don’t you think?”. In the days to come, Opal and Lucy would eventually learn about each other. That’s what animals do. They sort each other out. Opal (hopeless optimist that she is) longed to play with the ‘new kid’. That would take a while… 18 months actually. Now, two years later, Lucy is quite fond of Opal. Lucy knows that she is smaller and physically vulnerable, yet she also knows that she is in charge (though I’M in charge of both of them). Lucy will only drink out of Opal’s dish. She likes to drag off Opal’s bones and toys to the blanket which she also appropriated from Opal, but will share sometimes. They sniff one another to no end (mostly at each other’s ends aka butts). When one is not feeling well, the other is very concerned. Opal tore her dew claw 18 months ago and had it removed. Her foot was bandaged and she was all drugged up when we finally returned home from the vet. This was Lucy’s shining moment. She came over to Opal, licked her bandaged paw and purred, as though saying, “Wow, what happened to you? Can I help?” Opal licked Lucy’s head in appreciation and we all fell asleep on the floor together, huddled in solidarity. So, if you are worried about bringing a cat or dog into a home where one already resides, my wise advice is; be prepared, be observant, be patient, and when they are merged, let them sort one another out!

ACB Radio For the Blind

I discovered ACB radio yesterday. Where have I been?!  ACB radio provides 5 channels of internet radio, streamed live through free players (You can download Winamp or others). This is radio by the blind, for the blind and for anyone interested in blindness issues. ‘Cafe’ channel provides music by blind musicians. On ‘Classic’, you can listen to classic comedy and drama programs. ‘On Demand’ will allow you to listen to programs such as: ‘Cooking in the Dark’, ‘Disability Nation’, ‘The Sound of Sight’, ‘Blind Handyman’, ‘Eye on Employment’ and more. You can also download a ‘tuner’ so that you have quick access to ACB from your computer desktop. You must check this out. I will link it to my blogroll.  It should be the first on the alphabetical list….The web site is: http://www.acbradio.org

Sorry, Nothing Personal, But keep your hands off my dog!

There are times when one is forced to make decisions which might  not please one’s friends. I’ll be more specific. I have rapidly developed a good, friendly relationship with a number of people at my church. A recent article in the UU (Universalist Unitarian) newsletter generated many enthusiastic responses. It was a profile about me (and Opal).  As a result, people are talking to me, realizing that I am approachable, fetching coffee during fellowship time, AND PATTING MY GUIDE DOG!!!!  Worse, I am was allowing them to get away with it! Sorry, nothing personal, but keep your hands off my dog, please!!! Here’s the thing. Guide dogs are off limits when they are wearing their harness.  When Opal and I are not in motion, it does not mean that it’s OK to pat her. Just because you know me a little better (some of you actually becoming my friends), this does not mean that you have suddenly been granted an exemption from this rule. You may think it is harmless to come over and cosy up to Opal for a minute with or without my permission. It is not. Here’s why. Opal MUST know that when she is in harness, she is working. Socializing is out of the question. Consider that she is very fond of you (Opal is fond of EVERYONE) and you give her a little pat every now and again when we are at church when she is not actively guiding me.  Then, one day,  you meet us as we are crossing an intersection and she wants to greet you (because, hey, it was OK when I greeted you while wearing my harness last Sunday at church, she thinks)… get the picture? It’s not fair to bend the rules. Guide dogs need consistency in their lives. My error was not nipping this in the bud immediately. Mea culpa. Now hear this! Please do not pat my Guide dog when she is working (WEARING HER HARNESS) any more. Do not ask me if you can. I will refuse… and I don’t care if you are offended. If you ‘don’t get it’, too bad. You should.