When it comes to hygiene and grooming, the relationship between a dog and its human caregiver is not unlike that of child and mother. Mums (and dads) take great interest in the body odour of their kids. Kids are popped into tubs as funkiness sets in. Parents absently spit onto tissues and clean off gooey messes on the fly. They pick at, clean off, wipe down, wash and rinse the various creepy, smelly substances that append themselves to their loving tots. They change diapers or examine their kid’s poop in the toilet bowl, not with revulsion, but with the inquiring mind of a scientist. Ditto the dog owner with their pooch.
Recently, someone at church casually mentioned that Opal “has a little bit of a smell”. I dismissed it with. “She smells like a dog”. I went home and ruminated on this comment. I love Opal’s smell, but I’m her mum. That pretty much makes me incapable of objectivity. It wasn’t always like that. The very first time I ‘picked up’ after Opal at CGDB, I nearly hurled. The first time I experienced her distinct ‘wet dog’ odor after we had been out in the rain at the training centre, I really began to wonder how I would survive life with a dog when we got home to Nova Scotia where it rains A LOT. I once worried about my clothes having dog hair or goober (saliva) on them. Now, I seem oblivious to any of it. On the contrary, like any mum, I inhale her smell and it makes me smile. However, I am not impervious to rational public opinion. I called up my sweetie immediately after the church lady’s comment and demanded the truth. “Does Opal smell funky?”, I asked. LA. spoke to me as cautiously as a hostage negotiator would. “Umm, well darling, she does have a little stronger smell than usual these days”. I was shocked…and worried. It’s November. I hadn’t anticipated a bath ’till spring.
The happy news is that the forecast high for tomorrow is 14 C. With a lot of planning, I have arranged for a ride home from Metro Dog Wash, so that Opal (who is terrified of dryers), can get home without getting a chill after her bath. Metro Dog Wash is the best little business in town. You take your pooch to their storefront location on Cunard street, and for a modest fee, use one of their numerous waist-level sinks (dog walks up a couple of steps) to wash your own dog. If you have an old, arthritic dog, you can use the walk-in tub at floor level. There is a device to tether the dog so that there is no Great Escape from the sink. You use their shampoos and conditioners. There is an endless supply of temperature-controlled water coming from the hand-held hoses and sprayers. They provide rubber aprons for the washers, and Zoom Grooms to use on the washees. Then, when your fido is all clean and rinsed, you can use as many towels as you want to dry him off. There are dryers for dogs who are braver than Opal. You leave with a clean dog, minus the mess you would have at home. Metro Dog Wash offers grooming services and sells lots of dog gear too. Best of all, they offer a 50% discount off of their bathing fee for service dogs. I highly recommend it. (Visit via link on blogroll) If all goes according to plan, Opal will smell lovely to me AND my church friends next Sunday.
Some days, it is NOT all about the dog, but the dog AND handler instead. Such was the case yesterday in Montreal, as Guide Dog Users of Canada held their Annual General Meeting and conference. As a member of this organization, I would have loved to have attended the conference, but financial circumstance dictated otherwise. Instead, I joined the group from the comfort of my home, via my computer and the ‘live stream’ on the Internet. Remarkably, I listened to the familiar voices of some of my friends as business was conducted and presentations were made (dog first aid and dealing with dog attacks). I guess I can let the dog out of the bag and announce that I was elected to the Guide dog Users of Canada board as a member at large…all from the comfort of my home! I missed out on the supper at ‘Guido’s and Angelina’s’, an Italian restaurant on Atwater, but it sure was nice to get a feel for the event from this great distance. Great job you guys!
Yesterday, I was trying to get into my cab at the local Sobey’s grocery store when a man called out, “Excuse me..” I thought I was blocking his path (it’s a narrow squeeze on the sidewalk by the store entrance). I hustled my heavy bag of groceries into the back seat Opal and myself into the front. Again, I hear, “Uhm, excuse me”. Now I am wondering if I dropped something. Or, maybe I’m supposed to recognize this guy’s voice and the body attached to it? No, none of these. He continued speaking to me through the open taxi window. “Is your dog from Ontario or the USA?” It suddenly became clear to me. This was a ‘Dog Stop’.
At the training centre of Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind in Manotick, Ontario, one of the topics we covered in the ‘theory’ part of the training, was our responsibility as Guide dog handlers to maintain a positive attitude with the public who observe and question us as a guide dog team. I understood the rationale of educating people on guide dog etiquette and of being an exemplary representative of CGDB’s program. I did not have any idea how significant a part of my life this would become. People with pet dogs often comment that their dogs are a vehicle for social interaction, even a means of getting a date. But guide dog handlers? We are a curiosity that gives rise to an open invitation for interrogation, conversation and commentary. Mostly, it’s all about the dog. The top questions? “How old is your dog?”, “What’s your dog’s name?”,”How long have you had your dog?”, ” Is it a female or male”, “Is that a Seeing Eye (NO!)/ Guide dog?”, “Is that a black lab?” Top comments? “What a beautiful dog!”, “What a smart dog”, “I bet she’s your best friend”, “that’s a well-behaved dog” and so on. I am often approached by people who want to tell me about their dog, sometimes one that is ill or that just died. It seems people think I would ‘understand’ about the loss of their special friend, even though we have never met and are in a public place when they bare their souls. I have had strangers (on buses, in malls etc) ask me if they can take our photo, though I suspect that I am often cropped out of these images. People who meet us, and do not see us for a year or more will often not remember my name. that’s understandable. They might not remember MY name, but Opal’s? you bet!
The man standing outside my taxi went on, ” My wife raised puppies for Canine Vision….” I listen politely as the driver waits (meter running) for me to give him a destination.
That’s right. I would like to join AA today. Nah, not the club for humans who drink too much and get silly, sick and sad….No, I would like to join AA, the GIRL, for a birthday celebration. She is the not-so-little girl who raised me as a puppy for Guiding Eyes For the Blind’s puppy raisers program in North Carolina. They traded me to Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind in Ontario (like a pro baseball player) and I ended up with my mum in Halifax.
We had such a great time together when I was a puppy. You slept on the floor next to my crate, played the violin for me with your brother, took me to church (I was a Mormon then, but mum says we are UU’s now…I don’t care ’cause church is fun). There is confusion about whether I am the puppy who barked while you sang in church, or if it was Lacy, the dog you also raised, the one who grew up to become a famous arson detective dog in Ohio. I don’t remember, but somehow, I think it was probably Lacy…I was the one who ate the cushions on the couch and pooped at the mall once (I don’t EVER do that anymore), remember AA? They say that I was the one that made you come out of your shell. I don’t remember you having a shell…some sweatshirts and other normal clothes yeah, but no shell. I just remember that we were very happy together, and that after I showed up at your house, you weren’t shy at all anymore about talking to people, especially about dogs. Dogs, dogs, dogs! That’s all you still talk about. I approve! Happy Birthday, my friend.
Ladies and Gentlemen, service dog handlers, dog lovers, friends and readers; I am pleased and proud to announce that HRM (Halifax Regional Municipality) has approved funding (via a recommendation from the HRM Advisory Committee for Persons with Disabilities) in the amount of $20,000. towards the creation of an off leash dog park which service dogs and their handlers will have priority use of. What does this mean? Guide dogs, hearing dogs, special skills dogs, other service dogs and their mums and dads will have a safe, fenced place to go and exercise OFF LEASH. An existing site, already partially fenced has been secured. The funding will allow for total fencing, clearing of the area, addition of some seating and refuse bins and posting signs. The location is more than suitable, with bus and ferry service routes nearby. Service dog handlers who require parking will be accommodated as well. Use is not exclusive to service dogs, however signs will indicated that pet dog owners must vacate when a service dog handler wants to use it. A public awareness and education campaign will hopefully ensure that this is a workable stipulation. The parks department will take care of maintenance.
I have worked on this proposal through its various incarnations over the last two years that I have been on the ACPD, and more so in recent months as the committee’s chairperson. When this dog park is finally established, it will be a first in Canada. We are the city to watch. We will be the model for all other initiatives seeking to establish similar facilities in Canadian cities.
When I finally pronounced the outcome of the motion today, Opal rose and stretched. Sure, I know that she was bored, but I like to think that she was showing a little interest. I KNOW she will when I take her to the dog park next year (hopefully fully functional by then) and let her free run. She will go foolish!
Guide dogs receive extensive training that includes many aspects and exposure to many situations. Ideally, these dogs are raised with people who consistently expose them to ’stuff’ as pups: all types of walking surfaces such as gravel, pavement, grates, escalators, wood, grass…, all kinds of noises; example: traffic, bangs, shouting, music, clapping, machines…, all kinds of people (kids playing, people in wheel chairs, runners, people performing….), many different types of venues like restaurants, malls, churches, office buildings…., numerous modes of transportation such as cars, trains, subways, buses, airplanes, boats…, and other animals, including cats, dogs, cattle, birds…. and so on. Then they leave the puppy walker and go off to a guide dog training center to practice the skills they will need to help the blind person with whom they will eventually be matched. Trainers and apprentices harness them up and spend months teaching them to walk around obstacles, to stop at the top and bottom of staircases, to ignore other people and animals, to respond to verbal commands, arm signals, and foot positions. They learn to disobey or over ride a command in any situation that would put the handler in danger (Intelligent Disobedience). They practice and practice and are exposed increasingly to more types of routes (busy downtown streets, country roads, suburban areas…) and situations to which they must respond appropriately (stopping when cars back out of driveways, walking through construction zones, ignoring food on the ground, ducking around shopping carts, remaining calm when fire alarms are sounded, ignoring off leash dogs that come up to them….). Trainers try everything they can think of to season these dogs. Umbrellas are popped open, stacks of books are dropped, fans blown and more, all to prepare them for the numerous situations they will face as guide dogs. They train in hot and cold weather, in the pouring rain and driving snow. All training centers have a resident cat or two because it is likely that some of the dogs will go home with handlers who own a pussycat, or at the very least, will occasionally visit someone who has one. Once the guide dog school has selected or “matched” their blind client with a dog, they train the dogs some more with the client’s specific size, gait, walking speed, home environment, activity level and lifestyle in mind. The residential (and usually final) part of formal training involves multiple daily training ‘walks’ with the handler, the school trainer and the dog. This month-long period of mind and body-numbing activity concludes (hopefully, but not always) with ‘qualification’ and the blind handler returning home with their guide dog.
But there is ALWAYS stuff that Guide dog schools don’t teach you or your dog. It’s impossible to cover everything. For example, Opal and I once encountered a woman walking a pet rabbit on a long leash. A sighted observer explained to me why Opal was so eager to pause; she was watching a bunny going for a stroll. Then there were the beaded curtains in the hallway of a local restaurant (I thought those went out in the 70’s). It WAS an obstacle, albeit one that she could see through…we figured it out. There was a Halloween costume contest last year at the local supermarket that really grabbed her attention. In fact, she went nutty the first time I put on my balaclava (the woolly thing worn for heists, not the Greek pastry). Then, there was the time a kid vomited on the bus, and the OTHER kid who dumped a chocolate milkshake over her when we were on the ferry to Dartmouth, a horse on the sidewalk (don’t ask), and the time we wandered into the annual pride parade by mistake and were pelted with silly string. We nearly got pepper sprayed as we innocently tried to get to the library…where a political demonstration was in progress nearby. Opal knew something was wrong when a fist fight broke out between two kids as we walked by them (I yelled at them to stop, or I would command my dog to attack—grin). I discovered that Opal also has a tap dancing fascination (we saw ‘White Christmas’ on stage and I put on my own tap shoes now and then). One day, a couple of cars crashed as we walked by and left us showered in broken glass. I tore my quad muscle last year and had to walk at a snail’s pace WITH A SUPPORT CANE FOR THREE DAYS (and Opal), because I had no one to care for her. Fortunately, I managed to keep moving at least enough to get her outside to relieve. I’ve heard about one handler who was IN HOSPITAL WITH his guide dog for several days. Totally unfair to staff, the patients, and the dog. Other things? You discover how to cope with them as they come up. Guide dog schools don’t tell you how to work out the strategy required for intimate times at home with that new ’significant other’ without one or the other (dog or partner) getting their nose put out of joint (physically, but more often, emotionally). Opal put herself to bed at 6 PM the first time my sweetie and I… There might be any number of unusual or unique situations that a handler will face and need to figure out during their guide dog’s working life. Life with a guide dog is ever-changing and a relationship with a working dog is an endless ‘work in progress’.hen t
Thanks a whole heck of a lot there buddy…(I mean the dude at a local publication for “seniors” aka anyone over THE AGE OF 50 like me, called The Senior’s Advocate). I write an article on guide dogs AT YOUR REQUEST, obtain photographs AT YOUR REQUEST, send 2 signed release forms AT YOUR REQUEST, and YOU CAN’T EVEN ADVISE ME THAT THIS RAG IS OUT?YOU CAN’T MAIL A FEW COPIES (LIKE ANY REPUTABLE PUBLICATION WOULD) TO All THE CONTRIBUTORS who provide you with stories (without any monetary compensation) that keep you in business? You did not return any of my phone calls or e-mails…VERY NICE! You also did some fancy editing there pal…like changing ‘ opportunities to relieve’ to ‘bathroom breaks’ (referring to Opal’s daily cracks at going outside for a pee or a dump)…do ya think the old geeks who read this thing are so anal retentive and ’sensitive’ that they need to read some childish euphemism like, “bathroom break”? Sheesh! give ME a break! Good gravy, old people talk about their bowels, bunions and bad backs in great detail all the time! It comes with the territory. And frankly, if I was the photographer (Cyndi Burns of Pet Country Magazine), I’d be calling you up to complain BIG TIME that you printed my photographs without CREDITING THEM!
I hear that Americans have the words, “In God We Trust” etched onto their coins. We Canadians have no such thing on ours though I see great potential for something similar on a coin here. Perhaps when the Canadian Mint decides we need more change and creates a five dollar coin to add to the ‘Toonies’ and ‘Loonies’ that we already schlep around, we could have a contest to come up with a clever design. I’ll be the first to enter. Of course, as a Unitarian I would not choose a motto for the coin that made reference to any one god. I don’t think those words would fly with Canadians in general. However, we ARE big dog lovers here in the Great White North. Here’s what I picture:First, an octagonal coin, smaller and lighter than a ‘toonie’ or ‘loonie’ ( If we don’t go with something lighter, people are going to start tipping over from excessive weight in their handbags or pants pockets with all that change. At the very least, the need for pocket protectors will create an entire cottage industry). Monarchists will demand that the Queen ’s image be on one side. I’m not entirely OK with that, so here’s my compromise; The Queen yes, but in a casual pose with a dog , maybe seen frolicking across the grounds at Windsor castle or somewhere, (but not with one of those damn Corgies of hers! No! Let’s give her ….a Siberian Husky! …or a Great Dane!…or a Labrador Retriever….or a mutt–a ‘Heinz 57′, as my dad once called my treasured childhood dog, ‘Sandy’ . And then, etched around the happy queen and canine, the words; “In Dog We Trust”. Or we could scrap the idea of using the queen altogether and go with an engraved Guide dog and handler in action….with those same words. I couldn’t think of anything more appropriate. Hey, they made a Guide dog stamp this year, so maybe there’s hope for my idea yet. Has anyone noticed that god spelled backwards, spells….
This just in! Details are sketchy, but reports from our Canadian affiliate indicate that Wise Advice Chief, HRM (aka Lablady) and her staff have been robbed. Local diva, Poprah Minfrey claims to have witnessed the whole thing. “I was strolling up Olivet street, on my way to buy some organic broccoli and Twinkies at Sobeys. They’re on sale ya know, the Twinkies, I mean. Anyway, I was coming around the corner, and there was a guy with a pick up truck near the corner. Him and his buddy got out and stand around…ya know, like they’re up to no good. They commence to picking up the garbage can and hauling it to the truck! I yell, “Hey, that’s Wise Advice’s can. Her sweetie ‘re-located’ it for her!!! Get your own can, you bunch of f…goofs!” But they didn’t miss a beat. They just threw it in the back of the truck and took off like they were on fire!”Ms. Minfrey had no other comment, except that she did not want to miss the sale at Sobey’s.
Wise Advice and her staff (Opal IV) discovered the theft for themselves last evening, after much groping near the bus shelter for the missing receptacle. Staff member, Opal had just contributed her usual after supper ‘environmental offering’ which was collected in a small non-bio degradable bag and necessitated deposit. “Shock and Awe, that’s what it I’m feeling at the moment”, says a distraught Wise Advice. “Who would steal a 35 pound trash basket? It doesn’t even have a lid. And my sweetie sweated bullets hauling that puppy over from the other side of the street one morning last July. Sheesh! Some people have nerve! I have a good mind to take out a PSA asking for its return. Maybe I’ll offer a reward…yeah, how about this?; ‘Just return our can, no questions asked. If you do, I won’t start bringing poop bags onto the bus (’cause there’s nowhere to dump them now) which would cause the driver to gag, keel over and drive off the road into a crowd of old ladies coming out of St. Agnes’s Church after bingo! Ya don’t want THAT to happen, do ya? You’re reward is that you get to save a bunch of old ladies from getting hit by a bus. You’ll be heroes.” Staff member, Opal had no comment, though clearly she is equally distressed.
The RCMP continue to investigate at Wise Advice’s request. Constable Courrier des Bois commented, “We’re calling out the dog squad on this one”.
Yesterday, Opal and I went back to Citadel High school in Halifax. Our purpose this time was to introduce the 2008 Writing contest which AEBC Halifax (Alliance for Equality of Blind Canadians) is hosting with 100 grade 10 students. The last time we visited Citadel, it was final exam time in June. There wasn’t much of anything going on then, except that a handful of kids, bleary-eyed from all-night studying were getting bummed out about their exams. A few others were in a tizzy because Security had hacked off their locks and cleaned out their lockers. Yesterday was a totally different scenario. In a word, CHAOS! We handily found our way to the familiar ‘office’. The staff were helpful and made photocopies of some handouts for me. We sat next to a funked-out kid in trouble waiting to see one of the vice-principals. Opal and I listened to the bedlam in the halls. Announcements (both for students and teachers) are constantly being cranked out. Each one is preceded by an alarming ‘alert’ tone, which is reminisant of something you would hear on a submarine …or in a prison. Maybe it was the added destinations in the announcements…”…meeting in ‘D’ block” that made me think of this. I ate my tuna sandwich and took in the conversations students were having with the staff…”I DID bring a note signed by a parent, so why am I marked missing?” “My class is supposed to be in room 208 in ‘D’ block, but they’re not there!” Today, we were back to meet Marjorie, an English teacher who asked me to introduce the Writing Contest and speak to her class about blindness. She seemed her usual harried self when she arrived. As we gathered my photocopies, I noticed someone had stopped to pat and talk to Opal. “Don’t touch my dog please, she’s working”, I said automatically. They continued, oblivious to my words. I said, “Hey, don’t touch my dog”. This is when Marjorie introduced me to the offender, Kam the principal of Citadel High. I grinned but offered no appology. Instead I gave her one of the handouts on Guide dogs. Marjorie and I found our way to the staff lunch room on the 2nd floor where I was to wait for “the kids to settle down from lunch”. A teacher walked in and screamed, apparently terrified at the sight of Opal. This happens occasionally. Five minutes later, we bumped into the same teacher as we entered a doorway into a lunchroom alcove. He screamed again. This time, I grinned. Opal shrugged off his scream, disregarded him and guided me, as she is supposed to. Our visit with the kids was great. The contest will have them writing about what they think their world would be like without sight. We talked about blindness too. Questions? Sure. “How do audible traffic signals work?” When I mentioned blind sports, the restless, surly kid in the front (I’m guessing Marjorie parks him there to keep an eye on him) blurted out his question, “Is there blind basketball?”. I told him I didn’t know, but that Goal ball is a huge blind sport, even a Para Olympic sport. We talked about accessible technology and devices. I asked them to take out their cell phones. Most of these 36 kids have one and were eager to break the ‘no cell phone in class’ rule. I urged them to resist actually dialing, but to imagine trying to use it to text message or call, if they could not see. “I can’t feel the keypad or see the display”, some girl complained. “That’s my point”, I said. Most of the hundreds of models of cell phones, MP3 players etc are totally impossible to use if you are blind. As always, the majority of questions were about guide dogs. Time flew by and soon Marjorie was giving me the hook. We got a round of applause and then Opal and I were escorted out before the buzzer and the ensuing stampede of kids by a pair of girls (teenage girls always travel in pairs, even in 2008). Opal and I managed to get home without causing anyone else to scream.
Listen up cabbies! I’m going to say this once. Here is the not-so-definitive list of things you need to know when you pick up a customer who is blind or partially-sighted.
If you drive a radio cab, or if you get your calls through a computerized dispatch system, chances are that the customer will have specified that they are blind (they should ’cause they can’t expect you to guess). So, when you get to the pick-up location, do not sit in your car and expect the blind person to know that you have arrived. We are not physic. It is impossible to know if the nearby idling vehicle I hear is ‘my cab’ or just some other vehicle at this busy location (like a pimpmobile or a Fed Ex courier or a cab from the wrong company). You must get out of the car and identify yourself as the driver from XYZ cab company. If there is something wrong with your legs, attempt to crank open the window and announce yourself from the comfort of your car.
Notice the guide dog with the person? They will have specified this too upon telephoning. Unless you have a medical certificate which exempts you from having a dog in your car (you would croak from the allergic reaction), then YOU MUST, BY LAW, ACCEPT THE DOG IN YOUR VEHICLE!!! THERE ARE REPERCUSSIONS FOR PEOPLE WHO REFUSE ACCESS TO GUIDE DOGS…AND FINES.
Do not charge an ‘extra passenger’ or ‘baggage’ fee for transporting a guide dog (I have experience d this before). If you do so in Halifax, you could lose your taxi permit.
If the person with the guide dog wants to sit in the front with their dog, do not freak out. It is my practice to do so, as recommended by the school where I received my dog. I know that other schools have differing philosophies, but this is what I choose. Notice (as you always do) when we get in, that there is actually much more room for the dog in the front between my legs…yes, even (especially) in those monster luxury cars… than in the back behind the seat. The big hump in the middle of the floor in the back is very constricting. Back seat? No way. If we crash, she will not go flying off a back seat, or be hurled to one side of the cab. It is more comfortable and safer for us both to sit in the front. this works for all cars, even the smallest. She is always well-behaved and will not touch you. (she may sneeze, though, ’cause your car is dusty)
Do not think that because your passenger is blind, that you can travel the most indirect route to get to the destination (boosting the fare), ’cause most of us will notice that you have taken a side trip to Ecum Secum on the way to the corner of Barrington and Duke.
I miss the old days. Taxi meters ticked back in the day. Now, there is no possible way to determine if the requested fare is what actually appears on the meter…however, do not get the idea that charging $17.50 for a one mile ride is something you can get away with.
If your client has a charge slip, or you have a charge slip for them, and you want a signature, then think about how tricky that might be to sign. Me? I won’t sign one. “You sign it”, I say… (you could be asking me to sign up for donating a kidney for all I know)
When you get to wherever the passenger wants to go, ask if they need assistance to get to the entrance of the building, or at the very least, give precise directions…”the is 5 meters straight ahead”. As I suggest to everyone, saying “over there” while pointing is useless (and a bit brainless and thoughtless)
Alert your passenger if you are dropping them off in a puddle or ice patch. (I once stepped out of a cab, slipped on an icy patch, did a pirouette, landing on my knees, resulting in a bruise and torn jeans)
One of the pleasures in acquiring a new puppy or kitten is spending hours with your family deciding on a name for the critter. The kids want to go with ‘Bandit’ or ‘Princess’, but you’re leaning towards a loftier, more meaningful handle, like… ‘Mandela’ or ‘Climate Change’. If you live alone, you find yourself scouring the ‘Names For Baby’ book at the library. When people ask me what my Guide dog’s name is (and they do so incessantly) I sometimes give my standard fake answer, ‘Lucy’, particularly if we are captive on a bus when the likelihood of loud, repetitive calling out of ‘Opal’ is great. On occasion, I fess up and say, ‘Opal’, and some people comment on her “lovely name”. When I have a moment, I explain that I had no say in choosing it.
Guide dog training centres all have breeding programs. The larger schools, like ‘The Seeing Eye’ in Morristown have hundreds of their own dog ’stock’ at any given time. Opal originally came from Guiding Eyes for the Blind’s program. She was raised in North Carolina before being sent to Canadian Guide Dogs For the Blind in Manotick, Ontario (a little like being traded to another ball team in the major leagues). Her pedigree information (like player stats) proceeded her, revealing that her mum (Dam) is named, ‘Regina’, and her dad (Sire) is ‘Buzz’. (Buzz has fathered hundreds, if not thousands of dogs and his sperm is shipped around the world, or so I am told) . Opal is in fact, Opal IV. The litter into which she was born at GEB, as in all cases, was assigned a letter of the alphabet. It was time for an ‘O’ litter. All the dogs in Opal’s litter were given names that started with the letter ‘O’ (She has a brother named, ‘Othello’). The naming process for guide dogs is not whimsical. Care is given to check records of active and retired dogs’ names before naming them. Sometimes a name is re-issued. I imagine it’s a bit of a challenge to name the ‘X’ litters… ‘Xena’, ‘Xaviar’ … then what? The sponsors and financial contributors of the schools and training centres sometimes influence the choices too. After all, if a generous company or individual donates a large amount of money to provide guide dogs to the blind, then why not? Not that I would want a dog, named…um, ‘Acme’.
I recall a conversation at the CGDB training centre in Manotick. A fellow trainee (whose own dog was a step-sister and kennel mate of Opal’s), said something about black opals (referring to the gem stone). I had never heard of such a thing but it stuck in my mind. In my Internet research, I discovered that New Zealand and Australia are lousy with them. In fact, I received a comment on this blog from an Australian jeweler bound for Canada who happened to Google a bunch of search terms that included, ‘opal, Halifax’ and ended up on my blog reading about Opal. I’m not rushing out to order a black opal-studded collar for Opal, but someday I may just buy myself a nice ring with a black opal set into it.
I hear it all the time. Strangers on buses, people in shops, taxi drivers, folks on the street say to me … “I’ve got a dog just like that”. My thoughts? Not likely. You may have a black Labrador retriever, but you do not have a dog like mine. You may have a clever dog who can do silly tricks, but you do not have a dog like mine. You may have a dog with a pair of sad brown eyes, but you do not have a dog like mine. You may have a black dog who is friendly and peppy, but you do not have a dog like mine. You may have a dog that is attentive to you, but you do not have a dog like mine. You may have a black dog of some kind, but you do not have a dog who will stand at a curb with traffic whizzing by her head. You do not have a dog who will ignore other yappy canines, people and smelly bushes as you walk down the road. You do not have a dog who can “find a seat”, “the lift”, “the escalator”, “the counter”, “the bus”, “the post office”, “the washroom”…”the way”. You do not have a dog with whom you entrust your life. You do not have a dog who saves you from disaster on a regular basis. You do not have a dog who is with you 24/7. You do not have a dog like my registered Guide dog, Opal IV…so just say to me instead, “I have a dog, but it’s nothing like your wonderful, smart and beautiful canine companion”.
Now I’ve had it with you boorish bunch of anal retentive rejects. What’s wrong with you people?!!! The next time one of you ‘neighbours’ in this multi-unit building cannot be decent enough to emit a sound when you are ‘in my space’ as I greet you, I will not be held responsible for what may come out of my mouth. Sheesh! How rude can you be? Please tell me if you have some good reason (besides being assholes) for standing by the elevator, or at the laundry machines, or in the hallway, or at the mailboxes and totally ignoring my greeting? I didn’t think so. You’re as stunned as a sac of hammers! You seem to find your voice when other residents are around and they greet you. You there, big guy with work boot footsteps and smelly clothes…yeah you…do you know how creepy and scary it was to feel the presence of a huge man nearby, and not know that you were NOT an ax murderer or something because you couldn’t even seem to muster a grunt or fart to acknowledge my cautious “hi” when we met in the hall at 5am as I was going to relieve my dog? You know I’m blind, you ditz! And the fat lady with chunky heels who smells like a floral arrangement at a funeral home? What’s up with you? I was coming up the stairs to the lobby to get my mail when you were parked/docked/berthed by the elevator door and blocking my path. Do ya think you could move your sweet smelling butt over a bit or say something when you see a lady with a white cane (Opal was on a break) coming straight at you? Nah. You didn’t even say “hey, don’t whack me with that cane” when I ran into you. You stood there like a lummox after I muttered, “excuse me and hello”. I had just stepped out of the shower, so I know it wasn’t my body odour. Then there are the old biddies (yeah, the ones who “don’t like the disgusting sight of that dog on the lawn”) who seem to think that I have no ability to HEAR anything. Hey! It’s really not polite to dish someone WHEN THEY’RE STANDING FIVE FEET AWAY! …”She’s got a lot of laundry again. Bet there’s dog hair in it” . Sheesh! You geeks really need to get yourselves a crash course in social interaction 101, or read a Helen Keller bio or something! Anything would help your ability to interact with blind people at this point.
When I say to Opal, “come on, let’s read a book”. She knows that it means that sound will start coming out of our Daisy player…some guy or gal will talk and talk… it’s all blah, blah, blah to Opal, but she loves it. Why? It’s our quiet time together. She gnaws her bone contentedly as we lay on the bed and snuggle (oops! dog on bed again…check!). She takes my running commentary on the book in stride, looking at me (quizzically, I think) when I say things like; “that doesn’t make any sense!”, or “what kind of a moron wrote this thing? they can’t even string a sentence together!” or “Ooo, Opal. this is a really good book, eh?” To further cement Opal’s audio appreciation, the Audio Book Club which I started with the Halifax Public Library, has its meeting at the Alderney branch. Opal knows that when I say, or rather sing with a commercial jingle lilt, “Audio Book Club today!”, we are bound for Dartmouth on the ferry. That in itself is exciting. We sit on the upper deck and suck up the sea breeze as Opal watches the gulls fly overhead and the boats sail by. The BEST part, is AFTER we go to the audio book club…after the meeting filled with conversation and laughter, after I load up with more of the library’s audio books and sign them out, after the tea and more conversation with my friends at ‘Biscuit Lips’ (a nearby cafe)… after all of that, my girl KNOWS we will FINALLY go to the park by the shore. She also knows that mum has brought the ‘flexi’ (retractable leash) and her necklace (collar) and her rubber boomerang….and that she will get a chance to sniff and run and ‘blow the stink off’. We will soak up the rays and more sea breezes, and stagger back onto the ferry quite shattered, but definitely content.
Our audio book club meeting was yesterday. My task is to research the author and other details about the current book selection and bring in some information to share with the group. Our most recent title was “Kabul Beauty School” by Deborah Rodriguez and Kristen Ohlsen. I was as eager to share my ‘find’ with the book club as Opal was to get to the park. I managed to interview Ohlsen by e-mail. She was very forthcoming and answered my probing questions. I listened to an old NPR interview with the Afghan women who are the subject and spine of the book. (they’re quite cranky and claim that Rodriguez left Afghanistan and did not receive money from the book profits). I asked Ohlsen (who is often overshadowed in reviews and interviews despite her role as primary author) to comment on this, and more. She came through, and in doing so, gave the Halifax Public Library’s first ever Audio book club something juicy to talk about. Our next pick is “Treasure Island”. Somehow, I doubt that I will raise much in the way of interviews with Robert Louis Stevenson.
Mum says we are going to the NDP nomination meeting to vote (for Megan Leslie). She didn’t seem too happy about it…says someone else is going to read the ballot, point where to sign, watch her do it and check it for her…so why bother? She seemed to brighten up a moment later when she got one of her ‘ideas’. Now she says I AM GOING TO VOTE FOR HER!!! cause I’m so smart, and she trusts me and we’re going to make a statement about accessible voting for the blind. I don’t usually say much but now I get to make a statement….wow!
Opal and I live in Nova Scotia. If there’s one thing Easterners really get into, it’s talking about , preparing for , and experiencing hurricane season. It must be that inbred Canadian love of imminent danger and disaster arising from weather conditions. We are now in the midst of Hurricane season. Most hurricanes do not reach us, but we have had some over the years that did make landfall (Hurricane Juan, for example) and many tropical and sub tropical storms which can pack a mean punch. For people with disabilities, there are significant challenges involved in preparing for bad weather. Just like the boy scouts, my motto is, ‘Be Prepared’. The Nova Scotia Disabled Persons Commission wrote a guide for PWD called “Are You Ready?”. Voiceprint released a CD version of the guide. It is full of helpful hints for PWD and seniors. Other organizations in all jurisdictions have similar resources available. Consult the web sites or call the Red Cross, the Independent Living Resource Centre, Canadian Food Inspection Agency, National Organization on Disability, Emergency Management Nova Scotia, VON (Vial of Life Program) or any EMO in your area.
Opal is a hurricane veteran. She was raised in North Carolina and was evacuated more than once, including during Katrina. Service animals, by the way ARE allowed into shelters (pets are not). I had no Guide dog at the time Hurricane Juan blew through Halifax some years ago. I do recall my cat being terrified, especially when one of our windows blew in. The power was out for five days. The streets were dangerous and impassible because of fallen trees and power lines. I can’t imagine what it would have been like to experience Juan with a guide dog. In the last 12 months, Opal and I have dealt with bad weather, including tropical storms packing 120km hour winds and 150 ml of rain. It’s important to listen to weather forecasts. It is helpful when planning your dog’s opportunities to relieve, because you can’t expect your 60 pound animal to be willing and able to squat in a gale (there’s always the bathtub…grin).
Plan your strategy for an upcoming storm. Obviously, you must have enough food and water on hand, for yourself and your animals. You should have a pre-determined disaster plan for home, work or school. Create a communications and evacuation plan. and develop a support network of people. Your service animal’s kit must include food, dish, labeled medication, identification, papers, toy, bone, play collar, small blanket. Fill your bathtub with water. Make sure you have the following on hand: non perishable food, water, batteries, portable or crank radio, medication supply, important papers including a list or audio tape of phone numbers and insurance information, first aid kit, warm clothing, sleeping bags, and items specific to your disability. Remember that phones and power may go out (have mechanical can opener). There is often a lot of noise and confusion during building evacuation which makes it difficult for people who are blind who can no longer rely on familiar audio cues. Be familiar with your plan and practice regularly.
It’s not a good idea to use a land line when there is lightening ( My friend was knocked over while talking on the phone during a thunder storm as lightening hit the wires). Unplug stuff, particularly computers. Modems, monitors and so on, which can also become toast during a bad storm. On that cheery note, I am shutting down, unplugging and hunkering down as the weather begins to rage and we await the remnants of Hurricane Hannah.
Opal visited Dr. C. today at the Veterinary clinic. It was time for her checkup, one of two exams which I am contractually obligated to provide for her every year. Verdict? She’s a healthy girl and a real charmer (kissed the vet into a giggling heap as she tried to listen to Opal’s heart). Opal did not flinch when the doc gave her the mandatory shots, and squirmed around playfully on her back while Doc. C. felt her ‘girl bits’. The trip through the clinic to the weigh scale is always fun for her. She loves to sniff the mountain of cat and dog food bags as she passes by. It’s a challenge to keep her still on the walk-on scale bed long enough to get an accurate weight reading. She tends to lean against the wall which skews the number. Sometimes there’s a dog being bathed in the same room, so that sort of activity peaks her interest . I suspect she’s thinking, “better you than me!” The doc kindly filled out our Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind health book and faxed them the new entry. We payed our bill (less 40% Guide dog discount). The discount for vet services to guide or service dog is offered by many practices. It’s worth calling around to the local vets to enquire. The most important thing is to find a vet that you have good confidence in. It’s a given that they love animals. I look for someone who is down to earth and not an excessive pill or procedure pusher. Our doc was an emergency veterinary hospital vet for many years. I also had no qualms about ‘googling’ her to check out her credentials and history. There seems to be a generally better-than average accommodation for clients who have service dogs among vets. My experience has included getting appointments quickly, a longer than usual amount of time spent examining or treating an injury, patience in answering all of my questions, willingness to fill out and fax forms as required, granting of credit when I could not afford to pay immediately, easy availability for phone conversation/questions and providing alternative or ‘jigged-up’ methods by which I can accurately dispense medication like ear drops. A vet is more than someone who shoots your dog.
I don’t have hard statistic-gathering methodology to back up this claim, but I am quite certain that my recent self-monitoring of the number of times a day that I say, “Good Girl!” to Opal, would reveal that I utter these words…umm, A LOT!!! More times than I say “hello”, “thankyou”, “Don’t pet my dog, she’s working”, “excuse me”, “Where is the…”, and any other combination of words on most days. In total since I’ve been with her? thousands millions billions times more than Micky D’s has sold cardboard burgers to the unsuspecting carnivore citizens of the world. It pops out of my mouth without forethought; a verbal reflex that I do not use sparingly. Opal gets a “good girl!” (with or without the exclamation in my voice) when she relieves, when she responds to any command and when she does something of her own initiative. I croon it to her when we cuddle, when I groom her and when I kiss her goodnight (YES I KISS MY DOG GOODNIGHT!). I say it to comfort her when the vet is poking her or the technician is trimming her nails. I say it to her in the night when I sleepily extend my hand down to her bed to check that she is OK. I will continue to say, “Good Girl!” until one of us takes our last breath.
Dear GDAA (Guide Dog Addicts Anonymous), my name is Opal and I’m an addicted Guide dog. It all began when my mum bought me a lovely red ’skibble’ ball. She thought it was one of those ’smart’ dog toys that would occupy my mind with problem solving (trying to get the kibble to fall out of the ball by moving the ball around). At first, it WAS a fun pastime. Mum would pop a few kibble in the ball and toss it on the floor. I would spend a leisurely few minutes rolling it on the floor until I was done. I was a ’social’ skibble ball indulger. I thought I could handle it. Then, I found myself slowly increasing my skibble ball use. I would drop it off the couch or the bed, bring it to mum to throw, play skibble soccer with it, bring it with me to bed at night, drop it in my water dish, drop it on Lucy the cat, drop it on mum’s head in the morning to wake her up, and once, I even tried to bring outside when I needed to pee. I can’t “Leave It!” as mum sometimes tells me to do. It’s no use. I took your test….you know the one…“10 questions to help you determine if you are an addicted Guide dog, hooked on any one of 25,000 substances or behaviours and in desparate need of a 12-step program”. I have enclosed my test results (not so good) and the processing payment of $49.95 (mum will sign off on the VISA thing) plus a sample of my fur for ’special analysis’. Please send the list of Guide Dog Addicts Anonymous meeting locations in my area and my ‘genuine laminated GDAA membership card’ as soon as possible. And by the way, there’s a Guide Dog who lives upstairs (a drop-dead gorgeous German boy who works as a shepherd too), who I think is a Guide Dog Barking Addict. Can you send me the toll free number for THAT 12-step program?
My Guide dog, Opal has found an amazing array of ’stuff’ in the time we’ve been together. Some of it was lying on the sidewalks we travel (like a five dollar bill!), and other stuff she discovered in the places she relieves along the way and in our apartment building’s hallways. Here is a partial list of her (our) ‘finds’: Articles of clothing include; 3 winter scarves, 2 pairs of gloves, 3 mismatched mittens, 2 wool hats, 3 pairs of men’s briefs (one of them in a bush) 1 pair of trousers, 1 pair of women’s panties, 1 children’s sweater, and 2 sunhats. Ya gotta wonder about the clothes, eh? She has found 2 tennis balls, dinky cars, a colouring book, a doll and 2 stuffed toys (these do not include the ones she tries to steal when I’m shopping). There have been coins on the street and in restaurants, a pair of brand new ear rings, nail clippers, pens, magazines, a booklet of postage stamps, a back pack, and several pieces of ID.
There are many less memorable items which I would rather she NOT find; pop, beer and liquor bottles (some broken), cigarette butts and packaging, bubble and chewing gum, medication bottles, condoms (used), TONS (literally) of fast food containers and wrappers (some with dregs of ‘food’ in them), and an astounding assortment of garbage which has found its way into OUR neighbourhoods. Sheesh, there are a lot of pigs in the world!
NOW HEAR THIS!!! Keep your crap in your cars and in your backpacks and pockets and dispose of it appropriately instead of hurling it into OUR SPACE. If you insist on indulging in disgusting habits like smoking and public drinking and sex, be resposnsible and haul the evidence of your little party away. Smokers are particularly irritating to us. Opal finally gave up a habit of eating butts. (Her nickname, given to her by some Brits, was ‘Fag Ash Lil’ ). Frankly, I think YOU smokers should eat your own butts. Maybe you gum chewers should stick your gum wads into YOUR own hair. See how much fun it is to pick out, just as I pick it out of my dog’s paws, and fur. As for the nuts who smash bottles on sidewalks? YOU try walking barefoot over your expression of youthful nuttiness and/or drunkiness.
I love those sixties tunes mum plays. Protest songs are big in our house (go figure!). Sometimes, mum plays a song by Barry McGuire called, “Eve of Destruction”. I wasn’t around in the sixties, so I don’t really understand what the words mean, but I’ve been trying to figure them out. …”The eastern world it is exploding…” That’s probably about the nutty cannon they set off at noon every day on Citadel Hill here in Halifax. It’s soooo loud and scares me every time! Then, there’s the part “If the button is pushed, there’s no running away…” I’m pretty sure that means that when I find the button and mum presses it to call the lift (elevator), we must wait for the door to open, right? and, “You tell me over and over and over again my friend, ah, you don’t believe we’re on the eve of destruction?…” Now THAT’S gotta be about the way my mum KNOWS that in the morning, I am going to try to get her attention by grabbing the Braille phone bill and ripping it to shreds. Then she’s going to shake her head and say, “Hey, Destructo! I don’t believe you just trashed my Aliant bill”.
Yesterday, I received an e-mail from Jim Sanders, national CNIB president. I doubt that Jim actually hit ’send’ himself. This e-mail was soliciting money. It was probably spun out by the CNIB fund raising elite PR machine to everyone within the CNIB data bases, including clients. I don’t fault any organization for being creative with fund raising initiatives. This thing? It offended me to the point where I wrote Jim an e-mail letter this morning. Let me explain the nature of ‘Jim’s’ request.
The e-plea was colourful and filled with lovely photos of guide dogs and blind people with guide dogs. the header stated, “Harnessing Independence begins with your generous support”. It went from bad to worse by asking the question, “How much is your Independence worth to you? Dear Helen, close your eyes for a moment and imagine that you’ve lost your sight” Hmm, Jim. You’re too late, done deal, been there, done that, got the t-shirt. I AM blind! Then, to really annoy me, it went on to claim that “37 % of Canadians would sell everything they owned to keep their sight.” I don’t know or care if this is statistically valid. What I DO know, is that these kinds of claims propagate the erroneous assumption that blind people are miserable with their lot. Hey Jim, I’m OK being blind, my life is not horrible, so don’t yammer this defeatist nonsense which only entrenches public misconception about Persons With Disabilities. As for the clever references to guide dogs… “and when we’re ready, some of us may even get a guide dog” …blah, blah, blah, resplendent with pics of the dogs with CNIB clients who are in the CNIB photo op pocket, I could vomit. You and I both know (though apparently you’re still milking the sensibilities of a confused public who do NOT KNOW) that CNIB does NOT train guide dogs nor do they financially support guide dog training. Why go down that murky road, Jim? Why not spend some of your PR money on CNIB client services (ya gotta know that expensive glossy hard copy of this pitch for donations will be sent out to thousands of Canucks). I walked into my local CNIB office a couple of weeks ago looking to BORROW a tape recorder. My two recorders are broken, and my Hadley School for Blind Spanish assignment is due. Did I get some of that CNIB ’support’? No, Jim. I left with bubkis and went home to e-mail Senora Good-Krochuk that I am tostada with my Spanish until further notice. When someone stopped me on the street later that day and asked, “Is that a CNIB dog?”, I promptly took 15 minutes of my time to explain to the deluded individual that ” THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS A CNIB DOG!!! CNIB HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH GUIDE DOG TRAINING!!! THEY DON’T PROVIDE A SCINTILLA OF THE STUFF TO THE BLIND THAT THE PUBLIC ERRONEOUSLY THINK THEY DO!!!!” Sigh. Jim, I am so dissapointed with this sordid pathetic e-mail. You can bet that I am going to encourage people to respond to it’s lack of respect for people like me…happy, hard-working, tax-paying citizens who happen to be blind. And how, you ask Jim? I’m going to suggest to them that they make their charitable contributions elsewhere...like any guide dog training school, and my pick would be, Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blindin Manotick Ontario (613-692-7777 link on blogroll). maybe they should e-mail you about their displeasure too…. jim.sanders@cnib.ca oops, I think I just did. Have a nice day.
Guide dogs begin to train when they are approximately 14 months old. So, where have they been knocking around all through puppyhood? Answer: With their ‘puppy walker’ or ‘puppy raiser’ (depending on which Guide dog school they are bred for). These are the families or individuals who take a little 8 week-old ball of canine energy for a year or more, love it, feed it, groom it, play with it, expose it to all types of things, people and places…and then say goodbye to it. That must be a sad and and very difficult time for the puppy walkers. But look what these dogs become! They are part of that awesome, elite corp of ‘dog guides’ for people who are blind. When Opal and I ‘qualified’ in our final days of training at Canadian Guide dogs for the Blind in Manotick, Ontario, there was a minor fanfare that included a ‘graduation’ party, and a ‘Puppy Walker’s Tea’. The Puppy Walker’s Tea is a get-together where the newly-qualified CGDB Guide dog and handler has an opportunity to meet the person or family that raised the dog. Other guide dog schools have a different policy whereby the handler and puppy raiser do not ever meet or access each others contact information. I was ‘on course’ with three other individuals. None of our puppy walkers (the people who had raised our dogs) could attend because of the distance involved in traveling to Manotick (some from BC, Opal’s from North Carolina). We did, however have an opportunity to speak on the telephone with the puppy walkers at a pre-scheduled time.
I wonder what it would have been like for all involved if all the puppy walkers COULD have attended. I think a Puppy Walkers Tea could be a valuable and enjoyable opportunity for some people, but potentially awkward for others. I have yet to meet A.A. ( a then-15 year old) who raised Opal, though I have spoken to her many times, exchanged letters and gifts, and e-mailed her mum (a writer) hundreds of times. I now have an arsenal of Opal stories that could curl your hair…well, that’s for another blog… Sure, WE would have gotten along swimmingly at a Puppy Walkers Tea, but I have heard stories (maybe that’s all they are) about such encounters that did not turn out quite so well. It is a tense time…gotta be. The new handler is stressed after a rigorous month of training and wants to get home and settled, the dog is transitioning from trainer to the new handler so it is probably a little stressed too, and the puppy walker walks into the midst of it all? I think that it would all go well, provided that everyone understands their roles; the puppy walker is no longer ‘top dog’ in the relationship. That dog is now in a special relationship with its blind handler. The handler must remain cool and know that their dog will recognize the puppy walker and want to express its emotion. The trainers and staff have an obligation to keep everyone clear on the ground rules for the meeting. For example, it is no longer the puppy walker’s role to give any type of command to the dog…not even ’sit’.
I am so pleased and grateful to hear from all the puppy walkers and puppy raisers who have written to me through this blog. Please realise that those pups are treasured after you ‘let them go’. Do not think for a moment that your role is not as important as that of the professional trainers who actually train the dog to do all the fancy stuff, like stop at curbs and go around obstacles. These formative months in a dog’s life (before it trains), are critical. If you take that dog everywhere and expose it to social situations, surfaces, noises and so on, then you will have done the grunt work from which will emerge a potentially fearless Guide dog.
Oooooo. I have stunning new bling! Mum’s friend gave me a beautiful purple necklace. Some dog’s call their necklaces “collars”, but mum tells me that mine is special (like me), so we call it a necklace or bling. Mum put my tag (the one with my CGDB registration number on it) and my bell (so mum can hear me moving around) on the new necklace. I always wear my necklace around the house ’cause mum says that a pretty girl needs her bling at all times. Also, if anything were to happen (like a fire..ooo, I hope not), it would be easier to drag me out of the house ’cause I might get scared and be resistant. My tag has the CGDB phone number on it, so if I ever get lost and wander way over to Pictou county or somewhere, the person who finds me can call CGDB and they would know by reading my registration number, who I was and where I belong. And hey! I have a computer inside me too. OK, maybe it’s really called an AVID microchip, but if I get lost without my necklace, a vet or animal shelter can scan me (like a box of Milk Bones at the grocery store checkout) for my ID information. AVID (American Veterinary Identification Device) is a really big computer data base that tells the scanner who I am when it reads my secret AVID 8 digit number. And then there’s my tattoo that’s located on my…..
This is for all Canadians out there who amble into the local Walmart store or other retail location where perhaps, you once noticed a large, plastic Golden Retriever Guide Dog sitting by the entrance or near the checkout counter. The boy (or girl) dog has a money slot on the top of his/her head. On the base of this acrylic canine is a little sign that says, “Canadian Guide Dogs For The Blind”. This is the school where Opal comes from and where we trained together. This is the Guide Dog Training Centre that ‘gives’ Guide dogs to blind people at a cost of $1.00. It actually cost $35,000.00 to put one dog into the hands of a blind handler.
So, I do my bit to show my appreciation to CGDB. I convinced the local Walmart manager to allow CGDB to place two plastic Guider collector dogs in his store. It’s no skin off the manager’s nose. These puppies take up only one square foot of floor space each. They attract kids and people generally love them. I go each month to empty the coins out of Buzz and Regina (named after Opal’s mum and dad). I clean them because kids often ‘pat’ them with grubby hands. They will go to the car wash next summer for pressure hosing. Today, the haul seemed lighter than usual. Maybe $150 or $160. I said to Opal, “looks like CGDB can buy a Guide dog’s toe today”. You do the math. One entire guide dog=$35,000.00 so $150. would likely buy a toe. Next time you see the collector dogs? Put some money in them. If you’re one of our regular contributors? How about digging a little deeper into your pockets or billfold?
I struggle long and hard to come up with pop culture references for this blog. Admittedly, sometimes it’s a stretch.
Today, Jane, a trainer from Canadian Guide Dogs For the Blind in Manotick, Ontario came for our yearly aftercare visit. These visits ensure that guide dog and handler are still working efficiently and that nothing is amiss with the dog’s care or health. I am one of several clients from CGDB that Jane visited this week. My concern, as expressed in a past blog, is that I might be getting a little sloppy with the ‘rules’ regarding guide dog handling. I CHOOSE to allow Opal on the bed and sofa. I give her a ‘cookie’ when she gets home…. however, when it comes to the meat and potatoes of my relationship and handling of Opal? Tickety-boo! The girl saves my life every other day. She also adds a dimension to my life that I never thought possible. To put it simply, my life is more enjoyable because Opal is in it. I still value Jane’s expertise, so I was a little concerned about the impending visit. Jane knows dogs. She loves, lives, and breathes guide dog training. I refer to it as, ‘Jane’s Addiction’ , like the band of the same name. (see how I finally got to the pop-culture reference?! Jane’s Addiction, by the way, is an alternative American rock band that plays hard rock, punk etc. They’ve had a spotty past, but are reuniting this year for the third time in their ‘musical’ history)
Opal adores Jane. She did a BIG happy dance when Jane arrived. My concerns began to ease when Jane commented on how well Opal looks; healthy and cared for. We chatted for a while about my experiences with Opal over the last year. Then, we went for a walk over to the post office in the mall. Opal constantly spun her head back to look at Jane (trailing and observing us). Other than that, we were fine. There is apparently nothing wrong with this Guide dog team! My girl even went off-curb to take me round an obstacle I could not see. We returned home victorious (and sweaty). Jane showed me a better way to clean Opal’s ears. She checked Opal’s equipment and put a new reflective sleeve over part of Opal’s harness ( goes over the chest strap). We shared t-Touch tips (see Tellington Touch link on blogroll) and then, sadly it was time to say our goodbyes. Opal? She stared at the door for a minute after she left and seemed OK when I said, “Jane had to go home and train some more guide dogs”.
Remember John Cougar Mellancamp’s song from 1982 , “Hurts so Good”? Maybe it’s not that memorable, but there are times when I sing my own heartfelt version.
Last week I entered Dr. Judy’s office with another injury. I showed Judy my hand which had a strip seared across the back of it that snaked through the space between my pinkie and ring fingers. “It’s a friction burn. I think it’s infected”, I announced. “Hmm, how did this happen?”, Judy asked. Before I could answer, she spun in her chair as though a light bulb had gone off in her head, and directed her accusing remark to Opal who was passed out on the floor. “You again”. Opal raised her head and licked Judy’s foot in confirmation. “What happened this time?”, Dr. Judy asked in a tone of voice that challenged me to come up with something good. “Umm, it was just one of those things”, I began lamely. Then I jumped into assertive/rationalizing mode and tried to sell her on the idea that Opal and I have bad play Karma. I explained: ” She was on her Flexi retractable leash and took off. The rope crossed over my hand and…” Dr. Judy sighed, picked up her prescription pad and started to scrawl out an RX for an anti-biotic, musing out loud as she wrote. “Let’s see, first there was the egg-sized bump on the forehead from a canine-human cranial collision. Then there was the torn quad muscle. Wasn’t that another Flexi accident?” Judy asked. “Totally my fault”, I protested. “I only used the support cane for four days and I stopped limping after six weeks”. I shut up, thinking I should quit while I was ahead. At least Dr. Judy only gets to see the serious stuff. I don’t bother her with bruises and scratches that seem to happen on a regular basis when I play with Opal. It REALLY is my fault. I love roughhousing with her, and pay the consequences. But hey, It hurts so good.
Dogs are individual, unique creatures. Like people, they come in all shapes and sizes. They come with hair of varying length and colour (some with none). They have different ‘voices’… deep resounding barks and small yips. Like humans, they can experience illnesses and conditions like diabetes, cancer, stroke, heart failure, allergies, infections, arthritis. Dogs have basic needs like humans, including food, water, sleep, socialization, shelter, sex and relieving (in no particular order). But do dogs have personality? Answer: ABSOLUTELY!
Lloyd Price wrote and sang ” (You’ve got) Personality” in 1959. I think he was singing about his sweetie. Good enough, but I sing it to my guide dog, Opal. What makes Opal….Opal? Hmm. Plenty!
Opal licks her paws when she needs to relieve (some dogs would go to the door, some would bark, others would pee on the floor). She ALWAYS pauses to scratch her left shoulder just before I put her collar and leash on to take her out first thing at 5 am. It ’s some sort of habit she developed, like a good luck ritual reserved to start her day. Opal has an EXTREME fondness for soft things. She once nimbly picked up a woman’s glove from a seat at the ferry terminal as we passed by. Ditto plush toys at shops on numerous occasions. She enjoys licking toes, particularly the ones attached to women’s feet within her range, like on a bus. Needless to say, I am on guard in sandal weather. Opal insists on physical contact with me when she is gnawing her ritual after-dinner bone. We usually lie on the floor together so she can curl up alongside. Like other dogs, she does not enjoy getting her feet wet as she walks through puddles or relieves on grass, though, paradoxically she loves to swim. Opal loves to dance, but hey, so does her mum. We went to see “White Christmas” at the Neptune Theatre last winter. Patrons were more interested in watching Opal watch the musical (she sat up in the front row of the balcony and was riveted to the stage full of tap dancing singers). Opal has in ‘interesting’ custom of having a go at the ‘dominance pillow’ every evening. The vet says it’s not about sexual urge, but has more to do with frustration or dominance. Opal has a stressful job and does not have much say in what she does with her day, so she expresses this primaly. The most totally ‘Opalish’ trait? The girl crosses her legs. She delicately puts left over right paw when she lies down. Not just once in a while, but most of the time and everywhere. I hear people remarking about this on buses, at restaurants and everywhere else we go. It’s endearing and cute as all get out. Opal will sneeze a few minutes after she gets into a car. She does so with the same gusto my late father mustered when he sneezed. It is a rather perilous habit (probably dust in the air?) that causes taxi drivers to swerve wildly in surprise. Now, when I get in the car, I caution the driver…sort of an Opal PSA. My girl is a busybody extraordinaire. I am convinced that she is the reincarnation of my grandmother. She is ALWAYS curious beyond belief, looking out the window, rooting through any open handbag within range, gazing at anything different in our travels… she notices the decals that someone puts up on the glass door of our apartment building for occasions like Halloween, Christmas and Easter. She once stopped cold on the sidewalk when she spotted a few little boys across the street having a fight and bullying one boy. I called out and they stopped beating up on the kid. She finds interesting stuff too. Opal has found a five dollar bill (we shared), three pairs of gloves, earrings, scarves, a pair of tweezers, socks, toys, mail and more. Despite the distraction, I think this makes her a good guide dog. She is totally aware of her (our) surroundings. Yeah, she’s got personality. She’s a happy, quirky, curious social butterfly with delicate feelings and a complex mind. She’s my girl.
Opal and I took over a local hospital today. We had an entourage that included; two AEBC (Alliance for Equality of Blind Canadians) Halifax chapter members, three Halifax Infirmary staff people, and my friend, Anita a photographer who was armed with camera equipment. We were on a photo shoot for a pamphlet which AEBC Halifax has created in collaboration with the Diversity team at CDHA (Capital District Health Authority). This pamphlet is being developed for some of the front-line staff of CDHA. CDHA is made up of several hospitals and clinics in Halifax (10,000 employees in total). The information in the pamphlet is designed to inform them on how to assist patients or clients who are blind or partially sighted. It includes information on the types of things to say to a blind person in the hospital/clinic setting (identify yourself…offer assistance…explain a procedure…) what NOT to say (“Over there”, “you don’t look blind”…), what to do (elementary guiding, provide audible cues ie tapping a counter), what NOT to do (grab a blind person, touch a guide dog….), some general information (blind people have different types and levels of vision…some blind people use aids such as long white cane, or white support cane, ID cane, walker, or guide dog…) information about the AEBC (see link on blogroll) and the Diversity Initiative at CDHA. This is a phenomenal achievement for AEBC Halifax, a new chapter that no one knows much about yet. CDHA wanted ‘realistic’ photos for the pamphlet instead of my cheesy Clip Art. I convinced them to hire my favourite photographer. I also asked Randy (who has a standard long cane) and Joann (who uses a walker, but also brought along her white support cane) to meet us for some ‘action shots’. The hospital provided three volunteer staff people to ‘ease the pain’ and chaos arising from our little photo shoot with the ‘hospitalish’ looking staff and employees I needed in the pictures. I wanted Anita to take shots of us in various settings. We posed at the information counter, though we stalled there until confirmation with ‘Security’ about ‘permission’. We also shot pics in the blood collection services area, the Infirmary’s hallways, and in the Occupational Therapy department. Fortunately, I am familiar with the blood lab staff and managed to sweet talk Glenda and Cathy (Cathy stopped long enough to put on her lipstick) to allow us into their department. They took time to pose with us, pretending to draw blood samples. Ya gotta love a phlebotomist! It also doesn’t hurt that I have the ability to steamroll a situation before anyone knows what is happening. A lovely young woman from New Zealand who works in OT seemed a little camera shy at first, but when she realized that it was her chance at Canadian immortality (she is going back to the land of kiwis soon) she acquiesced and posed too. We had some technical glitches. Not the photography equipment…Randy’s cane fell apart and we had to stop and get it taped up before he could continue. Opal led the parade all over the 4th floor of the Halifax Infirmary, and appeared in a number of shots. You can’t have a pamphlet without a guide dog on the front of it, can you?!
The best part of going to bed at night, is the assurance that I will wake up to a new day and a fresh start. No matter how horrible a day has been, I can start a new one with the feeling that the day before has been erased. A clean slate, Tabula Rosa and all that. I woke this morning singing ‘Brand New Day’. Van Morrison does a better job, I am certain, however I felt the urge, given the day I had yesterday.
Yesterday, I woke at 4 am to the unmistakable sound of Lucy (our cat) vomiting. Sigh. I got up and took care of my little calico. This involved cleaning up, cooking brown rice to settle her stomach and giving her fresh water (in Opal’s dish, of course). The radio news really put a spin on my mood too. It seems that a man was stabbed and decapitated in an unprovoked attack by a fellow passenger on a Greyhound bus in Alberta. It’s been a violent week in this world. Unitarian Universalists in Tennessee were killed in their church by a shooter who did not approve of our UU ‘liberal views’. I mourn with my fellow congregants. In local news, a bus driver was attacked on her bus by a man who tried to sexually assault her.
I thought that work might reset my mood. It did not. My computer coughed up a cyber hairball and refused to operate. The arthritis in my hands, neck and spine seemed intolerable. Step out, I thought. I saddled Opal and off we went. I am in desperate need of orthotics and new shoes. I know this because of the shooting pain in my feet as I walk. No wonder I’ve been so cranky lately! Opal and I went to purchase a small birthday gift for my sister at the mall. In Basket Emporium, we stood near the counter and waited for assistance. A shopper came into the store and exclaimed, “You’re beautiful!”. Her comment was meant for Opal, of course. I replied, “thanks, but I have a sweetie”. She did not seem to appreciate my humour. It’s all about the dog some days. I just happen to be the woman attached to the end of Opal’s harness. I hobbled home and prayed for the day to end. Mercifully, it did.
So, when I woke this morning, the promise of a better day was intoxicating and induced me to sing. I tried “A New Day has Begun” (from Cats), but I could not recall the lyrics and it brought Celine Dion to mind, which is deffinitly not the way to start anyone’s day. I chose Van’s tune…”Brand New Day”.
Good Gravy!!!! Hide the MilkBones!!! Jane is coming!!!! Who is Jane, you ask? Why am broaching hysteria? Jane M. is a trainer with Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind. She spent months using her expertise and years of experience as a trainer of dogs, to train my girl, Opal IV into a great Guide dog. Then, she trained ME (and what a sorry excuse for a trainee I was) WITH Opal and turned us into a TEAM. That was over two years ago, and now it’s time for our annual ‘after-care visit’. Here’s the thing… I’ve sort of tweaked some of the rules and introduced my own spin on my handling of Opal… and now, I have two and half weeks to get us sorted out!!! Hide the Milk Bones!!! (no treats, says Jane…hmm… I started giving the girl a cookie when we get home). Let’s see, what other ‘illegal activity’ am I guilty of? Dog on sofa? Check! Dog on bed? Check! (but not overnight). Commands to Opal all bunged up? Check! (I’ve invented some of my own). Forgotten to perform regular ‘near traffic’ exercises? Check! Sigh. Oh well, at least I have a happy, healthy dog who likes her job, does it well and saves my sorry ass on a regular basis, is kind to Lucy the cat, loves all mankind, is groomed everyday, is loved and cared for, and will always be…the girl of my dreams. Get over it Jane!
Ooooo he’s so big and strong! No wonder his name is ‘Iron’. I call him him ‘the Ironman’, ’cause he can really go the distance. We had our first real date today. So romantic! We went to see a movie called Mama Mia. Sure, maybe the movie was a little flaky, but I just loved cozying up to that fella. It was full of music… some group called, Abba. Iron’s mum and mine were tapping their toes and didn’t seem to notice that we were… you know…having a little romance going on. The dancing on the screen distracted Iron’s mum, and my mum kept asking Iron’s mum if somebody called Meryl Streep was REALLY singing those Abba songs. Gee, I thought my mum invented the abba song… you know… “abba dabba dabba, Opal!”…that’s what she sings to me sometimes. Neither of our mums would let us eat popcorn. Sheesh! You think they’d have shared a little, especially since the Ironman and I were on our first big date. Iron showed me the way through Park Lane Mall and out the entrance on Dresden Row. We rode the lift together (he calls it an elevator) and then two escalators. We parted ways on the sidewalk (sigh). He went down to Spring Garden Road while my mum tried to make up for it by taking me to the Public Gardens. She would not let me swim with the ducks and geese in the pond, so that was a bit of a bummer. On our way home, three people said, “look, there’s a blind dog”. I don’t get it. I can see really well. Gee whiz, if I couldn’t see… and mum can’t see…? we’d be in BIG TROUBLE!
If you’re as old as I am, you will remember the song written by Eddie Miller in 1946 that was popularized by Englebert Humperdinck in the 60’s… “Release Me”. However, if you are older, you may be more familiar with songs bearing the same title performed by Wilson Phillips or the Swedish group, Oh Laura. No matter. For my purposes, the tortured lyrics of all of those tunes do not have much bearing on this blog. Here’s what happened this morning that had Opal singing her OWN version.
It was 5 am when Opal gave me my daily wake-up kiss. I stumbled out of bed as I do 365 days a year and proceeded to don my clothes like a robot. We then went outside to give her the opportunity to relieve. The routine drill when we return to our apartment is for me to plug in the coffeemaker and to begin the much-anticipated activity of feeding the girls. Perhaps my zombie-like stupor was more pronounced than usual this morning. I managed to pick up Opal’s dish, go to the cupboard where the rubber tote filled with dog food is located, scoop a mug full of her kibble into the dish, add the warm water, set the dish down on her place mat, and…. walk away in a daze to deal with Lucy’s dietary needs. I gave Lucy her kibble ration in one bowl, a spoon-full of soft cat food in her tiny saucer and fresh water in her dish (all lined up neatly on her Christmas-theme place mat that is identical to Opal’s). Then I thought to myself, ‘ something is wrong here’. Opal was thinking that too. In fact the thought bubble over her head was singing ” Please release me…” Yes, I had forgotten to ‘release’ Opal to her food. There she sat, undoubtedly salivating and praying for me to come to my senses! It might seem harsh to train dogs to wait for permission before approaching their food, however this type of discipline does have its positive results. Dogs, particularly Guide dogs must understand the hierarchy in their ‘pack’. I am the leader of my pack. Opal knows that above all, she can depend on me as her leader, to be in charge, to care for her and to take care of business. (oops, I just squeezed two more references to stale songs; ‘Leader of the Pack’ by The Shangri-Las and “Taking Care of Business” by BTO) The moment I came to my senses and realized that Opal was waiting for me to release her to her food ration, I spoke the words that are always music to her ears…”Good girl, eat your breakfast”. I occasionally use a feeding ‘whistle’ to do the job, but that’s a bit much for my neighbours so early in the morning. You can bet that it doesn’t matter to Opal what means I use to ‘release’ her, as long as I do so eventually.
I love my mum. She loves me, feeds me, plays with me and we go to neat places together. Sometimes, I feel that I must step in and take care of her. It’s Sunday today and that means we are going to church. She’s not feeling very well, I think… something about minnows pausing. I don’t get it. I think she’s just tired from being up half the night changing the sheets on her bed. I really need a little sign to wear on my harness. No, not the “don’t pet me, I’m working” sign… I need something that reads, “Don’t Bug My Mum Today”. She needs rest and maybe an ice pack to cool her off, but definitely NOT a stupid bus driver forgetting to tell us when we have arrived at our stop or a guy in an SUV trying to mow us down in a crosswalk. Sheesh! I don’t know what she’ll do if somebody bugs us this afternoon at the ball game. Frankly, I think it’s too hot to sit around in the sun, even if it is the annual Dykes and Divas game. She promised me that we are outta there if it starts to thunder. Suits me fine. Mum told me she’s not into the ‘Pride’ thing anyway. I don’t know what this means either. I’m a smart Guide dog, but that doesn’t mean I understand humans or what they are talking about half the time. I know words like, “left”, “right”, “find the lift” and the ones that REALLY matter in life, like “suppertime” and “I love you Opal”.
Opal’s life is dictated by my activities. Where I go, she goes. Lucky for her, I tend to go to varied and interesting places. Yesterday, for example, we attended the annual ILRC (Independent Living Resource Centre–now renamed ILC Independent Living Canada) picnic. It was held on the grounds behind the Natural History Museum; a perfectly lovely and fully accessible setting. She dodged wheel chairs and scooters like a pro. Once again, she shone when the guy with the nutty guide dog allowed his dog to wander (in harness) and attempt to pin Opal into, uuhmm… a compromising position. Actually it’s all about the handler, not the dog. It’s the handler’s responsibility to keep track of what their dog is up to. I yelled out, “John, sort your dog out!” while ensuring that his ‘boy’ did not get too carried away and that Opal maintained her cool. We were waiting in the food line at the time. My friend remarked that John had not noticed that his dog’s paws were stationary on the hot paved path. I had Opal on the grass beside it. It boggles my mind that handlers don’t think more about the comfort and safety of their guides. We eventually got our plates and settled at a table in the shade to enjoy our meal. The food was excellent; a Mediterranean feast of tabbouleh, humus, vegie cabbage rolls, pita, tomatoes and olives. Later, an excellent baklava was served. Numerous prizes were drawn, and my friend won a t-shirt. The after-food activities included visits from a face painter ( Opal and I passed), an offer to create a chef d’oeuvre from a balloon artist ( I passed on that too, given my irrational fear of balloons popping). However, when we were invited to join the drum circle, my interest peaked. A drum circle facilitator (Heather Pentz of Tidal Beat) passed out dozens of drums and shakers. SHE had a Djembe drum which I fell in love with. Djembe drums have a wonderful, rich sound that, in the right hands, can soothe, rouse, calm, or move (emotionally) whomever is in the circle. It brought back memories of Saturday mornings in Montreal where, on the slope of Mount Royal, upwards of 25 Djembe drummers would gather to play together. It was an intoxicating experience that I recall sharing with hundreds of other Montrealais who would gather to listen. I imagine they still do. The little drum circle at the picnic was not quite of that caliber, but I enjoyed it all the same, as well as the trip down memory lane. Opal appreciated it too. At the very least, she liked the smell of the goat skin drum cover stretched over a hand carved base of West African wood. I KNOW Opal ‘gets the beat’, like her mum. Hmm. I sense the purchase of a Djembe drum in our future! I think it’s my answer to my search for a ’stress-buster’.
Thanks to ILRC and it’s director, Lois Miller who always puts together a great event. Her dedicated work and unparalled commitment to the community is appreciated by so many. Her husband (sound guy) and staff are remarkable people who always help out and make it a fun event for some folks who don’t always have an opportunity to ’step out’.
Dear Wise Advice, we understand that you know the lady with the good looking black Lab Guide dog, Opal. We at the DAWG Committee would like to nominate Opal IV for her recent achievements. The DAWG’s (Dandy Award for Wonderful Guides) are handed out each September to deserving guide dogs who have been nominated by a group of their peers. It seems that a string of deeds performed by Opal of Halifax, has moved the community. First, Jaguar (the German Shepherd Guide and neighbour) claims that Opal has inspired him to behave like a gentlemen. Second, the yappy wiener dog (prefers to remain anonymous) is moved with gratitude that Opal (and her mum) have not yet reported him to ‘animal control’. Third, the bus driver on the #6 is very impressed that Opal saves her mum from getting hit in the crosswalk every day. Fourth, the drivers of the cars that pass the bus in the crosswalk and nearly kill Opal and her mum, are pleased that they are regularly spared the ‘hassle’ of a vehicular manslaughter charge. Finally, the Guide dog in the bus shelter at the terminal yesterday? The one who threw himself at the plexi-glass wall in the bus shelter and started barking so loudly when he spotted Opal working the sidewalk outside the shelter that his handler didn’t know what to do? He is VERY impressed. Opal was playing hard to get, he claims. More importantly, she totally ignored him… because she was doing her job so extraordinarily well. Please contact Opal and announce the good news; she is DANDY material. The award ceremonies will be held at the Halifax Service dog park/run (if and when it is ever approved by HRM for construction). The alternate venue is somewhere in Chicago, given that the Chicago Off Leash Dog Recreation Play Group is so fond of entertaining and particularly keen on Canadian attendance to all its events.
Opal and I had a weekend guest. A lovely time was had by all… yada, yada. However, by the time that my best bud returned home, she was hit by an overwhelming sense of guilt. Her crime? At some point, I mentioned that I had a little problem. Kind-hearted soul that she is, she enquired as to the nature of my distress. That was all the encouragement I needed to bear my soul.
TWO MONTHS AGO, I called the HRM call center (Halifax Regional Municipality) to request the installation of a litter basket at the bus stop near my home. I thought I had lucked out when I actually got a call centre operator whom I know personally. What are the chances?! … the same woman to whom I had GIVEN a desk via an Internet ad. My garbage can was as good as delivered to my corner, I thought. I told ‘T’ (operator) all about my situation; I have no where to dump my guide dog, Opal’s poop bags if she relieves herself on the way to the bus stop. In the past, I would ‘park’ them by the bus shelter and collect them on the way home… IF I returned via the same route, and IF I remembered. “All I want is a litter basket somewhere by the shelter, or attached to the pole”. “No problem”, claims ‘T’. Several weeks later I began to doubt ‘T’ ’s influence on the public works department when my garbage container failed to materialize. I called again, referring to the 10 digit number assigned to my report. I was told to be patient. On my last and 6th call to the HRM call centre, I asked the one-name wonder at the end of the line (NOT ‘T’) if she thought I should start leaving my poop filled bags IN the bus shelter, or perhaps bring them ONTO THE BUS? (I imagined bringing them to the mayor’s office) She did not seem to think those options were viable. Mindy, Suzette, or whatever her name was, went on to say that there was a backlog of work in Halifax from this past WINTER. I suggested that perhaps the city was too busy chopping down trees on Chebucto Road ( 12 protesters were arrested that day trying to save trees from senseless demise for unpopular road expansion) to take care of its obligations. She told me in her deadpan voice that it was an “unrelated issue”.
So, as my friend listened to my tale of woe about my battle with the city, she became most interested in the part about the garbage can at the bus stop ACROSS the street from my stop. I told her that if it weren’t for the traffic and the ‘crosswalk of death’ to get to that container, I might consider using it.
Maybe it was the blueberry pancakes I had made for breakfast or Opal’s winning smile that made her do it… More to the point, my friend took a stroll up to the corner ( Sunday morning 6 am and quite deadsville at the time) and uhm… moved re-located the garbage container to my side of the street. I was really impressed! Those cans weigh upwards of 35 pounds! We rationalized that this had been a Robin Hood type of situation.
I made a poop bag ‘deposit’ on the way to the bus stop four hours later. I’m in heaven! My friend, on the other hand is experiencing an attack of guilt. She considered turning herself in (to the call centre), but thought better of it when I told her that our city was crazy enough to bust her for it. Look what they do to tree huggers in Halifax, I pointed out. So, in lieu of my pal calling the HRM call center, I hereby confess by proxy on her behalf. Take that public works! … and maybe revise the original request. Send a new can to the opposite side of the street instead.
Psst, taxi driver…yeah you, the guy working for Yellow Cab who picked me up the other day. Here’s a tip. Actually, it’s a caution. Don’t ever try to sneak on the additional charge to my fare because you’re counting my REGISTERED GUIDE DOG as an ‘extra passenger’ again. And by the way...my guide dog is NOT A CNIB DOG!!!! There’s no such thing! Nor is Opal a Seeing Eye dog…so stop referring to guide dogs by those very inaccurate names.
Now that I’ve got all the sausage dog (oops, I mean ‘long dog’ ) owners scrutinizing my blog again ( “blind blogger hurls insults at Dachshund owner…” remember that?), I will remind ALL dog owners and handlers how to minimize the effect of hot weather on their pooch. It’s one of those hot and humid days here in Halifax, so Opal is a little listless. Me? I’m sitting around in my birthday suit and sweating. Dogs don’t have the luxury of removing their fur coats. Nor do they sweat like humans. Their paw pads ’sweat’ only minimally. Perspiration is the human body’s method of regulating its core temperature. You will notice your dog panting when she is hot (or nervous). That’s their means of cooling. However, dogs can’t really cool off efficiently in hot weather. You must be cautious with your pet or working dog in the summer’s heat. Here are a few points to remember.
Avoid mid day exercise or walks. Early morning and evening are preferable times.
Some towns allow use of pesticides on lawns or for plants and gardens. Watch that your dog does not eat vegitation or lick paws laced with the stuff.
Water. Lots of it available in a tip-proof dish at home. Bring some with you when you go out.
NEVER leave your dog in a parked car. Thousands of dogs die from heat exhaustion in cars every summer. If you see a distressed dog in a parked car, call the police or animal control.
NEVER allow a dog to ride in the back of an open vehicle (pickup truck)
Provide access to shade and shelter if your dog is outside.
Watch for antifreeze puddles in parking lots. Dogs will lap up the sweet stuff and get sick or die.
Do not shave your dog. They need their coat for insulation and to avoid sunburn.
Do not put human sunscreen or insect repellent on dogs.
Pavement and asphalt gets very hot in the sun and your dog will absorb heat through its pads. The pads may burn. Walk on the shady side if possible, and do not stand idle on hot pavement.
Service dog handlers should plan visits to air conditioned buildings when they can (We hang at the mall or cinema). It will provide respite. Allow more time to get where your going so you can work your dog more slowly.
Watch that your rover doesn’t get hurt when you’re having a Bar B Q (matches, propane tanks, coals)
beach outings should not be in blazing sun. Wash salt water off your dog if it swims in the ocean.
Pools, lakes are tempting to dogs. Supervise swimming as you would your children. Not all dogs are good swimmers.
SIGNS OF HEAT EXHAUSTION/HYPERTHERMIA/HEAT STROKE: —Rapid, frantic panting—Bright red or purple tongue and gums—thick saliva—vomiting—staggering gait—rapid pulse—temperature increase to 105F—diarrhea—collapse—coma—If you think your dog is dangerously overheated: You must lower its core temperature by removing it to a cooler environment, immersing or dousing with cool (not cold) water. Start giving small amounts of water to drink. Contact the vet.
To the 3 (three) drivers who almost ran me down yesterday…. IN A CROSSWALK!
Dear Tom, Dick and Harry,
Yeah, I know it was hot yesterday and maybe you guys were in a hurry to get home to the beer and burgers, but you really need to be more cautious around crosswalks. Maybe you didn’t notice the gigantic Metro Transit BUS that was stopped which you PASSEDillegally… at a MARKED CROSSWALK? Perhaps you were too busy playing with your radios, cell phones, or your ‘privates’ to see the FLASHING YELLOW CROSSWALK LIGHTS? Was the music in your car blasting so loud that you could not hear the BEEPING CROSSWALK SIGNAL? Didn’t the string of cars STOPPED in the opposing direction give you a clue?Let me guess. The air conditioning in your big gas guzzling SUV was on the fritz and you needed to keep moving at all costs to maintain the cooling breeze? I know. You were thinking, “So far, I’ve got away with running crosswalks without getting caught by the cops, so what the hell? I’ll blow through just one more and to hell with the lady and dog in the middle of it?” Hmm. Well boys, the party’s over. Today, I am declaring war on you. It’s for your own good. I don’t want you to kill some poor schoolchild in a crosswalk someday, and then have to live with the ensuing police investigation, maybe a suspended license so you can’t drive to the store to buy your beer, the TON of media attention (all bad press that will make you feel like a worm) and who knows? even a little guilt? No, I’m shutting you down before it comes to that. Watch yourselves fellows ’cause I have already spoken with the Divisional commander of the HRM police about increasing police presence here. You can expect a police cruiser to be parked behind a bush near the crosswalk in question for a while. Chances are they’ll enjoy pulling you over when they see you race through the crosswalk. They really like to play with the flashing lights on the cop car and hey, maybe even the siren if you are stupid enough not to notice the lights. I KNOW they will love handing you a ticket with a big honking fine.
Sometimes Opal and I get into rambunctious play mode… in the apartment. I try to limit her indoor toy collection to the softer variety; plush puppies, rubber rings, that sort of thing. Despite my best efforts to keep things ‘cool’, once in a while she just go nuts. OK, maybe I don’t always ask her to “settle Gretel” or “take a break” when I should. Call me a bad mum or an “enabler” as any TV pop-psych guru worth their salt (and obscene paychecks) would. Yesterday, for example, Opal and I got into a lively soccer match. We use a lightweight ’fuzzy’ plush pumpkin as a ball. This toy came to us after a friend cleaned out her closet of unwanted Halloween stuff. The trouble started when I was attempting to get a goal past her. Perhaps I used too much spin on my kick. The ball warped out of control into the corner of the living room. This is where my exercise rowing machine leans upright against a wall. Opal is an avid player and a good goalie, not too mention a dandy seeker’ (we love the Harry Potter audio series). She took off after that plush pumpkin like a Greyhound goes after a rabbit. I heard a loud thunk which could only be dog hitting metal (rower). Then came the scraping sound of the rower skidding down the wall, followed by a sickening crash of my rower hitting the…. floor? My heart reached my mouth as the adrenaline in my system kicked in. My mind raced in all directions (mostly towards the vet on North Street) but my feet ran to find my girl. She was fine. The rower? A chip off the frame but who cares!? I checked Opal over carefully. She seemed to have been given a total miss by the forty-five pound pile of metal that adorns my lounge but rarely sees action. No more! That rower is going to a new home in the hall closet. My girl could have been seriously hurt. I can’t imagine trying to explain such a freak accident to the vet. Maybe I could. Last year she fell off the bed. She had been looking out the window (major busybody). Somehow she managed to pirouette off my bed and hit her butt on the top edge of the CCTV (big magnifying machine). She landed on the floor. A small scratch to her buttocks refused to heal, became infected, and necessitated a trip to the vet. A topical treatment was applied…. after he shaved her butt. She was not in pain, at least not physical pain. However, her gigantic and obsessive preoccupation with her ‘look’, was shattered. She was mortified at the thought of being seen in public with a big naked patch on her back end. I thought I would have to shave MY head in solidarity or at least knit Opal a butt ‘toupee’. We survived THAT episode as we survived yesterday’s near miss. I learned (again) that you can’t be too cautious in making sure that your home is a safe environment for your animals…and that some force bigger than me is looking out for my girl.
Yesterday, at the Public Gardens where Opal and I attended a Canada Day concert, someone asked me the following: ”Is that a blind dog?” I knew of course what the woman meant… Is that a dog for the blind? However, this came on the heels of ANOTHER question that was raised on the bus ride over to the concert. The fat guy sitting next to me had asked; “Is that a seeing dog?”. He meant, I assume, Is that a Seeing Eye dog? It was hot and crowded on the bus, so instead of launching into the ‘Guide dog/Seeing Eye dog- What is the difference?’ explanation, I concentrated on getting off at the right stop and without injury to Opal. Maybe it was the cramped, airless bus and Caribbean soccer team reeking of aftershave that boarded at the university and threatened to flatten me and step on Opal’s toes that put me over the top. By the time we finally settled at the Gardens and the woman came along and asked about the’ blind dog’, I had lost my charm, my cool and my ability to think of a REALLY good comeback. My smart ass answer was, “No, she’s not a blind dog. If she were, we’d really have trouble getting around”. She didn’t think it was very funny, though I did hear some chuckles and tittering from people sitting nearby.
It is Canada Day! Opal and I took in a concert at the Public Gardens here in Halifax. We expected (according to the blurb on the HRM web site), two hours of live music (40’s, 50’s and 60’s) at the band shell. The music was pretty much a bust, however, we loved the free water, maple cookies, Canadian flags and pins (Opal has a tiny Canadian maple leaf flag pin attached to her harness now). Best of all, Opal joined the RCMP! Well, she actually joined the two Mounties that were standing around, for a photo ‘op’. We both did. There we were, both grinning between the pair of ‘posers’ in red serge, big boots and peaked hats. They tussled her head. (No comment about Guide dog patting from me!) These guys were busy as Canadian beavers with the lineup of people wanting their snapshot taken with the men in red. My question to them? ”Where are your horses”? Now THAT would have been a photo! Maybe we need to visit Regina (home of the RCMP Musical Ride).
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?).
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!
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!
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.
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!
“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! 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 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!
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.
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).
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.
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).
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)
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!
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) anymore. 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.
I write a great deal in these blogs extolling the virtues of my Guide dog, Opal. However, it is not always hunky-dory. Case in point? Yesterday went all wrong for us. Allow me to provide some background which might mitigate my sweet (GRRRR!) dog’s behaviour. At 3 am, I could hear a little monsoon going on outside. It was pretty much over by 5 am when Opal and I stepped out for her morning relief. But the GRASS WAS WET…and she has never liked walking on wet grass, especially to the backa-beyond area we have been relegated to since the cranky biddies upstairs complained about the “sight of that dog relieving”. I’ve already vented my feelings on THAT. I have since encouraged Opal to enter the designated area (right in front of our window…at least Lucy doesn’t mind watching her sister poop). A battle of the minds and wills developed yesterday; Opal wanted no part of walking on wet grass. I was determined that she would walk across the lawn and relieve herself in front of our window. Sure, letting Opal relieve where she wanted to, probably would have gone unnoticed at 5 am. My guess is that the whiny biddies are fast asleep and not parked in their windows. I was thinking about the ‘next time’. If I let Opal relieve where she wanted, there and then, she would expect (as dogs do) to repeat her performance later in the same place when the biddies WOULD be looking at her. Admittedly, my consternation over my original non-response to their crazy complaint had left me feeling cranky with the world…and Opal was my first contact of the day. We embarked on a power struggle extraordinaire. I took Opal out four times yesterday morning, knowing that she was in desperate need of relieving. Opal can be as strong-willed (IE. bullheaded and stubborn) as I am. “Opal, you’re going to explode if you don’t ‘do it’ soon”, I warned her. I sensed the thought bubble over her head….”you have no idea how long I can keep this up, mum”. And so the morning progressed as I did my four loads of laundry, interspersed with the unproductive trips outdoors. I made a tactical error by leaving a pair of sandals lying around the apartment. As I struggled through the door with my enormous sacs of clean laundry, I was greeted by Opal running around with one of my sandals. She approached me, just close enough to tease me and confirm that she had it ….and then took off. A chase ensued. Several minutes later, I collapsed on the sofa. Bits of rubber and leather littered the floor. Opal stood by and grinned. Petulantly, I tell her that they were not very comfortable sandals anyway. I should never have left them out in the first place! I had washed her soft toys and bedding. Her favourite plush puppy still needed some drying so I placed it in the open window for some sun and air. Opal did not ‘get it’. She slunk over to the window and nimbly rescued Regina…over and over. I tried putting Regina in a different window. Lucy did not approve of this. It was, after all, HER window and why should she tolerate Opal’s ’stuff’ being in her space? She did not. Regina ended up on the floor (to Opal’s delight). My frame of mind was not the best yesterday; I was tired, my throat was sore and the news was all bad: CBC radio told me: Two Nova Scotian lobster fishermen drowned–Nova Scotia Power wants to increase rates by 12%–a Calgary family was wiped out in a murder/suicide–the provincial legislature closed with all parties behaving idiotically, bickering about who supports what bill. A bill to protect battered women fell because of in-fighting.
I spent my morning calling veterinarians in Halifax. All 36 of of them. It seems the city want a ‘needs assessment’ to move forward on my service dog run proposal. One of the things they want to know is the number of service dogs in HRM. There is no central organization keeping tabs, so my reasoning was that all service dog handlers go to a vet, so they should have an idea of how many they have within their client base. The numbers continue to roll in as veterinarian practices return my calls.
The day ended (mercifully) without fanfare at 10 pm. The great thing about having a bad day? It makes a good day seem even better (grin).
I know. I’ve already written a blog with the same title. Today, however, we are a BIG step forward towards getting a safe, enclosed ‘run’ for service dogs in Halifax. I felt a little guilty about making Opal work on her birthday. Going to Advisory meetings at City Hall is not much fun for her. As usual, I brought her food ration for supper in the ladies room before the meeting. To my dismay, I forgot her dish. The Commissionaire saved the day. A lovely ceramic bowl was brought to me courtesy of the kitchen staff. ”Perhaps Mayor Kelly once ate his Wheaties out this bowl”, I say to Opal. She could care less! The meeting got underway at 4:00. As Chair of this monthly shindig, I can make announcements and requests. Yes, of course I added singing ’Happy Birthday’ to Opal to the agenda. Councillor Wile has nice pipes. It got even better when Phil Townsend dropped in to announce that Council has approved $200,000.00 for improvement or development in HRM buildings with regards to disability. We (the HRM Advisory Committee for Persons with Disabilities) are the ones who are being consulted on the money’s dispersal. This is BIG for an advisory committee. It is BIG for THIS advisory committee. I asked how the proposal for a Service dog run would fit in. I put this proposal forward many months ago. Now that there is money committed to disability-related infrastructure, it will very likely be approved, says Phil. It could take a while, but I suspect that one day, I will be able to take a bus and access an enclosed service dog run…the first in Canada. Hot dog! Run Opal, Run!. The meeting ended and I left feeling elated and important…then Opal had a poop in front of City Hall (I picked up). Nothing like a dog to bring you down to earth.
Today’s the day. We are off to Toronto. I’ve been saying this to Opal all week, as she has watched me put her ’stuff’ in my back pack. Her ’stuff’ by the way, takes up 85% of the pack. I’ll be lucky if I can squeeze in a change of clothes before I zip it shut this morning. Dogs (my dog, at least) do not travel light. I have a sac of pre-portioned food rations (extras in case we are stranded for an extra day), a bone, grooming brush, toy, identification and health papers, ear drops, and a blanket. There will be kibble in my pocket to dole out to Opal as the airplane ascends and lands. I’ve been told that dog’s ears go funny, just as humans’ might. At least I will be too busy stroking her ears to calm her and handing out kibble, that I may not remember that I fear flying and usually get airsick. This morning’s ration was just a scant 1/2 cup. I want her stomach to be not entirely full when we fly. There’s no need for both of us to feel airsick. I could hear her thinking this morning, ‘Where’s the rest of my breakfast?!’ I promised her something ’special’ in Toronto. ‘Special’ is my collective word for fun…at least I hope it’s fun for both of us. Given that there are at least a dozen Guide dogs attending the same meetings and staying in the same hotel…my guess is it will be a very ’special’ time!
One of my favourite movie lines is from the 1967 classic, ‘Cool Hand Luke’. Boss Paul (played by Luke Askew) grinds away at Luke (Paul Newman) in the rural Southern USA prison, trying to break Luke by forcing him to dig a hole and fill it back up with dirt, over and over. Periodically, he snarls, “Have you got your mind right yet, Luke?” Yes, I know. My pop culture references are a bit stale. Regardless, this one is useful today. Do not be alarmed. I am not culpable of forcing my dog to dig holes and fill them in, though I think she might enjoy the task. I DO, however, perform obedience exercises on a semi-regular basis with Opal. We live in an apartment building which has long hallways and staircases galore. On quiet days and at quiet times, I take Opal on leash out in the halls and commence a rapid drill of ”heel”, “sit”, “stay” and “come”. She LOVES it. Opal is particularly fond when I ask her to ”sit and stay” and then I walk away slowly and summon her to the end of the hallway (75 feet away). It thrills her to ”come” when she is finally allowed to bolt to me. The ceramic tile does not offer much traction, so she skids several feet before she comes to a stop. There are no objects to cause injury, so it’s a safe and exciting blast. Why do I do this sort of obedience drill? It ‘gets her mind right’, in a good sort of way. Dogs (especially Guide dogs) love to know who is in charge. They develop a sense of security and self-confidence by performing obedience exercise drills. It is important to keep the drills interesting, rapid, and occasional. If you do them too often, your dog will be bored and the drill ineffective. These dogs love to please their handlers. I find that Opal becomes very focused with her guiding job in the days following an obedience drill. We are going to Toronto next week. I want and need her to be sharp as well as relaxed in the knowledge that ‘mum knows what she’s doing, and where we’re going’, even if I don’t have a clue. Air travel, airports and the frenzy that comes with it, might be a breeze for the seasoned Guide dog team who travel frequently, but we don’t have much experience with this. So, preparation is key, and that includes an obedience drill today….to ‘get her mind right’.
Alfred E. Newman (of Mad Magazine fame) may have said it first, but I’m the one saying it today. I dare anyone who loves their dog to deny that they don’t worry needlessly (at least once in a while) when their dog is sick…ah, that is to say, when they barf (vomit, hurl, upchuck…). Opal tossed her proverbial cookies yesterday afternoon. Hmm, I thought, as I examined the resulting gift on my living room rug. Yes, I know you sighted folks may be disgusted to hear that I poke through my dog’s vomitory offering. I live alone and have no alternative than to ‘feel’ the matter out. I need to know some details about what is coming out of every end of my girl. This is critical information for determining the status of her health. Consistency, odor etc. are helpful to diagnose potential health conditions. Let’s just say, that I suspected Opal ate some grass or other vegetation and possibly scavenged some unknown food or garbage while she played at the park earlier in the day. Despite my best efforts to be vigilant while she sniffed and toured at the end of our retractable leash (Flexi), she might have gobbled up an unknown item. Dogs are opportunistic, and the allure of old food or other garbage to a lab, is hard to resist. The weather has also changed here, going rather warm quite suddenly. I know this effects me, so I suspect it is also difficult for Opal to adapt. What do I do when my dog is sick? I try not to obsess about it. Dogs sense (like kids) when you fuss too much about them…”Ooo, you poor girl!”…which sometimes, leads them to manifest symptoms that are not ‘real’. Instead, I cleaned up, gave her a pat on the head, offered her water and carried on with my work, though I had an ear open for sounds of further upchucking. Later, I checked her belly during a brief grooming. Then I cooked some brown rice. Yes, that’s what I said. I gave her a cup of cooked brown rice with a few kibbles and a little water in it for her supper, though only after a two-hour wait. She seemed lethargic, but that may have been the warmish day. Like anyone who loves their animals, I do worry, but not to excess. I paid close attention to see if, and what she pooped, so that I could be assured that she did not have an obstruction. Good news to report. Happily, Opal is better today, though I am giving her an easy working day. Of course, I would be running to the vet, if I had any concerns that she was not getting better, or if I thought that she was in pain. I would caution against weird home remedies, or waiting too long before going to the vet, especially if dehydration is a factor. It is hard to achieve that balance between excessive worry, and appropriate concern.
There’s a little lady somewhere in the southern U.S. who raised my girl, Opal. That was a few years ago. By some incredible stroke of luck, I have managed to stay in touch with her and her family. Today, she asked for my input on a school paper she is writing on service dogs. Question: Can I tell her 2 or 3 things about what’s it like to have one? Answer: Do you have a couple of months to listen? You’re asking a tough question, Angel. Here’s why. There are several answers, on several levels. Practically, Opal keeps me from walking into stuff, falling off curbs and tumbling down staircases…she detours around shopping carts, garbage cans, panhandlers, parked cars, construction sites and all that. She does it WITH MY HELP. I decide when to cross the street, but if I make a bad decision, she can override it (Intelligent Disobedience). I could avoid most of that without her, given a white cane and a lot of time, stress and effort. I’m not saying that travelling with Opal is a snap. I need to be thinking about where we are, and what I need to say to her and what to do with my arms and feet. HOWEVER!!! Life with Opal is fun! I am more independent because I WANT TO BE. I have her with me 24/7 (unlike pet dogs that stay home some times). She is my best friend. I am not as lonely as I once was. She provides me with a reason to get out of bed (though I bet your dog, Snoopy doesn’t get up at 5 am every day!) I am healthier because I walk a lot and get plenty of fresh air. I don’t have too much time to worry about my own little problems because she keeps me busy. One more thing for you…when I am somewhere (like a boring meeting) and I need a break, Opal can suddenly…need to relieve…and I am OUTTA THERE! (grin). Thank you for raising my girl. She has changed my life.
Opal is a good looking dog. I’m her ‘mum’, so naturally I think she’s drop-dead gorgeous. I have an interesting theory on why strangers find her equally beautiful. It’s simple, really. She sticks out because of her harness (and me attached to the end of it). People notice her on buses and in restaurants and other public places because they are a ‘captive audience’. She is usually the only dog in their line of sight, so they zero in on her. They examine her more closely on a bus than they would if they saw her as the pet dog running around a park. Their brains work on gathering information about her working status. They sit and stare, and have time to appreciate that she is smart and doing a ‘good job for the blind lady’. I know that some of those people who are saying to me, “What a beautiful dog!”, are not even particularly fond of dogs, and would totally disregard us if I was just a sighted woman with a pet dog on leash going for a walk. She IS a beautiful dog, no question about it, and she KNOWS IT, delicate, vain flower, that she is! She is well-groomed and well-behaved, so that adds to her appeal. Like any god mum, I will always think of her as the best looking dog in town, no matter what.
Yesterday started out like any other day. I stumbled out of bed at 5:30 after Opal gave me her usual wake-up kiss. We normally greet the day before most everyone in our building. I like that. The air seems fresher then and the city is quiet, except for the resident crows and the sound of distant early buses. I fed the girls and settled to listen to the morning news on CBC radio, our public broadcaster. I did my chores while Opal caught up on her beauty sleep. We were at the theatre the evening before, so her bedtime had been pushed back and she was a bit tired. A phone call came in around 11:30. It was an O & M instructor (Orientation and Mobility) from CNIB who wanted to know if we were available for a TV interview. I asked who wanted to do it and what the piece was. I was passed along to the reporter who was going to be doing it. She was in the field. Actually, she was in the airport. The piece was about working dogs and they were just winding up with the luggage sniffer dogs at the airport. The show was ‘Live at 5″, a CTV local feature hour that leads into the supper hour news. I agreed to meet her in one hour at the nearby Walmart. I groomed Opal in a hurry, even though the girl is drop-dead gorgeous most of the time. The young reporter found me at Walmart and suggested we do the interview outside. Cyril, the camera guy, met us at the nearby bus terminal. The interview was done right amidst buses and people walking all around. Opal was content to sit while I blabbed responses to the interviewer’s questions about how she has changed my life, what Opal does, her personality and so on. I think Cyril took a lot of closeups of Opal. Then we went for the action shots. Cyril was walking hunched over, BACKWARDS, so that he could shoot Opal as she worked. We went through the same crosswalks and intersections several times at his request. I could hear Opal thinking, “why are we going back and forth, mum? we’re not getting anywhere.” Finally, Cyril was happy, and so was the interviewer. I confessed that I did not own a TV (by choice), but would be happy to receive a copy of the piece for my family and friends. Opal and I ambled home. I had just taken Opal’s harness off and given her a fresh drink of water when the phone rang. It was the journalist and Cyril. They had followed us home. “Boy, you guys walk fast”, she exclaimed. They wanted us to come back out to do the teaser for the piece on our front lawn. Opal was getting a little tired of her new fame and star status, but she obliged them with a promo shot. We crouched on the grass. The journalist did a couple of takes saying, “She’s not just another pretty face…” as Opal licked her into a giggling heap. Finally, it was ‘in the can’. They thanked us and left. I vacuumed my apartment while Opal rested. Friends started phoning soon after it aired, with much praise and kind words. Opal wants to hire a publicist.
I have an oft-used line that I say to Opal…”You should report me!” I uttered it today, when for the SECOND time in a week, I made the girl drink water out of a kidney basin. A kidney basin, by the way, is a banana-shaped plastic container which is used as a recepticle when people feel the need to…uh…wretch or vomit. I insisted on a sterile one, of course! I was at the blood collection lab at the local hospital with Opal, on this warm spring day for routine blood work. I noticed that Opal was panting. I had remembered to bring a water bottle, but had left behind her travel dish. Not one to let my girl feel uncomfortable, I asked for something to use as a water dish. (The little bit I managed to dribble into my hand wasn’t cutting it). The blood technician offered a kidney basin. My poor girl was challenged AGAIN by this thing which I had forced her to use, only a few days ago. She could not seem to decide which side of the curve to drink from, so she alternated. That’s when I gave her a pat on the head and said, “You should report me!”. Hey, you do what you need to do. I will not allow my dog to go thirsty. This is also the 60 pound dog that I have CARRIED for several meters on a stretch of sidewalk that was covered in broken glass. This is the dog that I have sat up with entire nights, to make sure that she was going to be OK. This is the dog that I have moved bedroom furniture for when she was displeased about the new arrangement (could not see out the window… what was I thinking!) This is the girl I love.
I plan to go to a movie this afternoon. My Guide dog Opal is coming with me. Some Guide dog training schools suggest leaving the dog at home when one goes to the movies because the sound level is too high. I agree. Cinemas tend to crank out the sound beyond a comfortable level. I don’t enjoy it, so I can just imagine what a dog is experiencing. Dogs have very sensitive hearing. There’s also the problem of popcorn all over the floor area that even a well trained Guide dog would find hard to resist. I have solved both problems, thereby allowing me to have Opal with me. The major issue of intolerable sound was dealt with by speaking to the cinema manager. It is important to restrict movie-going to weekday matinees. That is when they are fewest people going to the cineplex. Often, there are only a half dozen people going to any one movie, especially the non-Hollywood blockbuster films which I prefer to avoid. The manager is always willing to speak to the projectionist (more of a programmer these days) and have them set the sound down. I also make sure that I enter AFTER all the promotional claptrap that appears before the feature which is always louder. The popcorn problem is less of an obstacle. By going to the first show of the day, chances are that the cinemas are quite clear of food on the floor. I remain vigilant none the less, with my harness arm ready to sense Opal attempting to snag a snack on the floor, so that I can tug her head up. My free hand is ready to shove into her mouth and yank out the scavenged food if she has moved too quickly. I’m sure some people are grossed out by the idea of probing a dog’s mouth, but if you are committed to your dog’s health and safety, you must learn to ‘get over it’. Your town’s cinemas may have matinees and hospitable management that would allow you to feel comfortable in bringing your Guide dog with you when you go to the movies. Some movie houses also offer free admission to a companion for disabled people. This is sometimes an available courtesy provision at theatres and other entertainment venues. Some cinemas and theatres offer ‘descriptive’ options for the blind. This involves wearing a head set to hear a description of non-audible action and sets of the film or play you are attending. Call first to inquire.
Here’s your tip for the day: Do not ask that blind person on the bus or in the supermarket this question: “What’s your Guide dog’s name?”. Why not? Chances are, you will be getting an alias. One of the bits of information I gleaned in Guide dog training, is to answer this question with a phony name. The rationale behind it is, many people will parrot the name back….”Ooo you’re a pretty dog Mindy!!! Mindy, you are such a smart dog! Hey Mindy!!!”…This can be a huge distraction for the dog. I think the pat fake name given to me at the guide dog school one day in training was, ‘Georgie’. When I returned home with Opal, and hit MY streets, I soon understood how important it was to have a ’stage name’ for my dog. Trouble was, I had forgotten the pat answer (‘Georgie’) by the time I took that first solo walk with Opal. We were on a bus going to the ferry terminal, when I was suddenly faced with this question for the first time. When a woman asked, my brain went numb. What was that name they told us to use, I asked myself. I drew a blank. She sounds like a nice person, I thought. What difference does it make, I reasoned. So, I proudly announced, “Opal”. The nice lady promptly went ultrasonic in pitch, saying, “Opal, Opal, Opal” over and over using maximum voice output. Opal sprang up like a jack-in-the-box. Needless to say, I decided to come up with an alias for Opal that I would remember for all time. What easier name to remember than, ‘Lucy’? Lucy is our cat. I am certain that Opal wonders why on earth I am always talking about the cat when we are out and about. It may seem unusual, but it is for our own safety. People we see regularly (neighbours, friends, relatives, committee members) all know her real name. I consider that I am entitled to a certain amount of privacy. Therefore, please do not be offended if you later learn that you have been deceived by me or anyone who gives you a fake name when you ask the Guide dog’s name. Remember, that in public places, there might be others taking notice, (like kids) who will remember the Guide dog’s name and one day, start shouting it when they spot the dog working across an intersection where total concentration is required by both dog and handler.
Actually, Universalist Unitarians call it RE or Religious Education. There are no Bible studies and I don’t think there is anything particular religious about it. UU kids learn about many things with the hope that it prepares them to become good human beings and citizens who care about others. Today, Opal and I visited with the kids ‘upstairs’. Our church is housed in a historic building. Originally, it had been two large, private homes with several staircases and many rooms of all sizes. We had pre-arranged our visit with the RE teacher. The number of kids in the RE class varies from week to week. Today, there were ten or so. They ranged in age between 2 and 10. Opal knew something was going to be different the minute we entered church. She wanted to take me to ‘my seat’, but I coaxed her to the front row. We sat on the floor with the young ones during the ‘Story For All Ages’. Then, when the congregation began to sing, “Go Now In Peace”, to usher the kids out of the room where the service is held, I asked her to “follow”. Up the multiple stairways that twist and turn we went with a backpack full of ’stuff’. We often go to schools to talk to kids about Guide dog etiquette and also about vision loss and ‘blind stuff’. The difference today, was the age spread of our audience. It’s difficult to keep things simple enough for everyone to understand. Still, I think it was a good learning experience for them. The first question was, “what happens if Opal becomes blind”? This, oddly enough, is not the first time I have been asked this or something similar. I was once asked, if Opal’s mom had been blind. Other questions have included, “Does she take a bath with you?”, “Does she chase cats?”, and “Will she always be your dog?”. Jordan (the one who asked about Opal going blind) was tenacious. Her follow up question was, “Would she still be able to work if she was blind?” Once we established how unlikely that would be to occur, we talked about Opal’s job and why she must be allowed to concentrate. I must confess, I had an ulterior motive in planning to visit the kids… I have noticed that several of them come up and pat and talk to Opal as we are walking through the crowded church entry area and fellowship room. My solution? Be proactive and chat them up and sort them out as a group. I offered ourselves as guest speakers, and the RE teacher was delighted to plan for our visit. ( I do most of the talking. Opal is the silent type). The culprits who pat her, may or may not have been present today, but kids tend to share their information with each other. I hope so. It’s always surprising for kids (and adults) to learn that the approximate cost of putting a Guide dog into the hands of a blind person, is in excess of $35,000.00. We also brought gadgets which usually interest kids. The talking calculator drew some “Neat!”s. The Braille kids books were also interesting for some. I pointed out that blind people do not all know Braille but I find it very useful. Out came the Braille tags which are used to put on clothing, the labeler to create stick on labels, and examples of a Braille phone bill and bank statement. They peered through the vision simulator cards I had brought. These are plastic cards with circles to peer through, with each circle providing a simulation of what things might l0ok like with diabetic retinopathy, macular degeneration, cataracts or glaucoma. Opal, meanwhile had a power nap. She woke up periodicaly to comfort the little guy (2 years old) who was in the care of a family friend today (not too happy to away from mom). When the service downstairs could be heard wrapping up, the kids began to collect their things. Opal and I packed up and left to find one of the many twisty stairways down to the ground floor. We ended up in the fellowship room where everyone usually gathers to shares tea and coffee after the service. At least three older ladies and one man asked to pet Opal. I realized that our work was not done yet! Finally, I decided to have EVERYONE who wanted, a chance to greet her…”Get it out of your system today” I suggested. The UU church dog lovers gave her a pat or two and thanked me. They said they would be OK from now on. I’m not entirely convinced. We may end up having a similar talk on Guide dog etiquette with the grown ups some time.
There are times when I lose my mind for a moment. The consequences? Usually, I say something, born straight out of anger or frustration, that I regret. The ‘right thing to do’, would be to pause, breathe, count, essentially anything… except yell at my girl, Opal. Sure, dogs can frustrate you just as much as kids can. Similarly, it is not acceptable to yell at (or god forbid, strike) them either. I’m not sure when ‘uman beans’ started running the Big Power Trip on every living creature other than their own species. Maybe it all began with the post cave guys who had too much time on their hands and started domesticating animals. In recent decades, our relationship with animals has gone OTT (over the top). Our children have no idea how that chicken nugget from mickey d’s came to be. They may see it move from a huge box of similar frozen bits, and into the deep fryer (I feel sick already), where it remains until a ‘ding’ or ‘beep’ signals the pimply-faced teenage fry cook to dump them out into the warming table. The portion controlled amount is scooped into a styro container and handed over to your kid with ample packets of ketchup to disguise the taste of this ‘treat’ you have just paid an obscene amount of money for. Does your kid know how that ‘chiken’ got into the Mickey D’s food chain? Do they have any idea how the original bird was kept confined en masse in a miniscule cage until it met its demise? Do you? Not likely. This is a ‘clean blog’, so it suffices to say that it is not a pretty picture. I believe that the western world’s love affair with meat (and the animals killed in acquiring it), has created a monster industry. Of course, there are many who have pet animals and claim to love them immensely. Maybe so, but some people are delusional in their thinking and rationalization of their treatment of pets. Buying jeweled collars, funny outfits, paying for spa days, silver plated water bowls etc. is an extension of their collection of status accessories. The urban dweller seems to have lost touch with nature and the respect and care of it. We encroach on the habitat of many species and turn their space into ours on our terms. We create fake forests (better known as parks) and justify killing the lost critter who wanders into the city limits, an area which was once their home. Our relationship with nature is all out of whack. Sure, we donate to ’save’ whatever a marketing executive convinces us we should pay our guilt money for. We listen to the news: In the 70’s we learned that we experienced the collapse of the cod fishery in Atlantic Canada because of over fishing and bad management. We learn of global warming and climate change now, but did not pay attention to the scientists like David Suzuki who has been active in environmental action for decades. We elect governments who cater to lobbyists with oil interests that do not want to ratify the Kyoto Protocol. Then, we watch Paul McCartney and his estranged airhead wife, play with seal pups on an ice flow, as they pause for a photo op in their protest about the seal hunt. The McCartney’s leave and so does the camera crew, but the baby pup that Linda fondled is left to die by its mother, because now, it has human stink on it. While I do not endorse clubbing baby seals, I am concerned that some Inuit Canadians should be included in the debate over banning the hunt entirely. I’m sure that the McCartneys and even people like Al Gore pay for ‘carbon credits’ when the jet around the world in their busy schedules saving this or that. I’d rather they stop crapping up the planet with jet fuel, which no amount of trees planted with ‘carbon credit’ money will fix. The only fix here, is their public image and personal guilt trip. But I digress. Back to Opal and why I need to be forgiven. I often feel conflicted with Opal as my ‘guide’. I know she loves her life, and her job. But is it fair? She has no say in it. She was bred, raised, and trained with the ultimate aim of turning her into a Guide dog. All I can do, is treat her with respect and kindness. Therefore, yesterday as she was dawdled and sniffed when I gave her an opportunity to relieve before church, and I yelled, “GET BUSY NOW!!!”, out of frustration and fear that I might need to leave Easter service later if she decided that it was the time to relieve, I checked myself. As always, when I insist too loudly, my sensitive girl simply sat down and stared at me. I got down on my knees in the snow and apologized to her. I told her it was ok, that we could “try later” and I was sorry I had yelled. I explained that her mum is a goof sometimes and we went to church where she had a long nap and did not ask to leave.
Three years ago, when I started to talk about my plans to ‘get a Guide dog’, with my friends who are Blind or partially sighted (without Guide dogs), something very interesting happened. A collective movement spontaneously occurred that had them all idly talking or thinking about having a Guide dog in their lives too. Their family members and friends also started to make statements to them too…”Mom, you should get a Guide dog too”. While I believe everyone should have the option, I KNOW that some people are NOT good candidates to have a Guide dog. Now that I have had Opal for almost two years, I feel somewhat qualified to voice my thoughts on this with more conviction. Fortunately, there is an intense candidate screening process to go through when one applies for their Guide dog, particularly if it is their first. Guide dog schools differ somewhat, but all of them screen carefully. The cost of matching a Guide dog to a blind handler, is in excess of $30,000.00 in most cases. This sum takes into account: costs for breeding dogs, supporting puppy raiser programs, training by qualified people and the cost of maintaining the dogs in training at the Guide dog school. The school must cover its overhead, pay a staff made up of trainers, instructors, kennel staff, support and administrative people. The travel costs of the the staff who travel for ‘after care’ (checking on the dogs and handlers), and, sometimes the travel costs of the clients, must be budgeted too. Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind, (where I trained with Opal), receives no government funding. The school operates as a charitable non profit organization, totally funded by money received through donations and fundraising activities. Clearly, it is in everyone’s interest (including the dogs) to be selective in determining who should have a Guide dog. Some of my friends who were tinkering with the idea, would not be good candidates. Why? For some, it is absurdly obvious… they don’t like dogs much! Other reasons include:
They have poor mobility skills and no initiative to learn any. If they can not find their way to a destination with a white cane, it is unlikely that a Guide dog is a solution to ‘getting out of the house’, at least, until they learn to travel independently.
Their state of general health (poor) would make it unlikely that they could be active on a regular basis. Some require frequent hospitalization.
They do not have the financial means to support a Guide dog with even basics, like food and veterinary care. (Routine Veterinary care, can sometimes be supported by a school’s program. Emergency Veterinary care is usually the responsibility of the client.)
They have a ‘free spirit’, hedonistic attitude about life. This is not compatable with having ANY dog in your life, including a pet. If you can not get out of bed in the morning, or think that going outdoors in ALL WEATHER, several times a day, is NOT for you…having a Guide dog is probably not a good idea!
There are sound reasons why the application process to a Guide dog school involves a great deal of paperwork. I was required to have a family doctor detail my general health, my eye specialist detail my eye condition, and my ex-O &M (Orientation and Mobility) instructor describe my mobility skills. I provided details about myself. When the CGDB school received my application package, they determined that I could move to the next step: A home visit by an instructor. We went for a ‘handle walk’, (called a Juno walk by some schools) which found me leaving my cane behind and holding, a harness handle, with the instructor leading as the ‘dog’. This gave the instructor a picture of my walking speed and gait. I learned (to my surprise) that I would be expected to use my arms, voice and learn specific ways to position my feet, when navigating with a Guide dog. My height was noted (so that I could be matched with an appropriate sized dog). We talked about my everyday life. What places did I go to? I explained my busy life, with meetings, church, shopping, groups etc. My concern about Lucy (my cat) and how her life would change if I was to have a Guide dog, was also considered. We talked about my age (49 then), my income, my family and community connections (I live alone). I asked plenty of questions and they were all answered. The instructor left me, and advised that CGDB’s committee would meet and discuss all this information, and decide if I would be a good candidate for Guide dog training. She also gave me hope by telling me that, while the decision was made by a panel that take into consideration all of the information, she ‘felt good about it’. It was a month or two later that I heard the happy news that I was accepted for training. I waited to be ‘matched’ with a dog for several months, before being called to class in Ontario for a one month residential program. The Hadley School for the Blind offers a course called “Is a Guide Dog For Me?”. Hadley offers free distance education to blind people around the world (see http://www.hadley.edu). I suggest that anyone considering having a Guide dog in their life, should talk to other handlers about their experiences. I know some people who have had a Guide dog or two, and then wisely decided that they preferred not to reapply for another guide dog. Their lifestyles had changed, or they relaized that they liked to go home and ‘put the cane in the closet’… something to consider. Dogs need routine and consistent care (feeding, grooming, relieving), love and attention (work, play, health care). Opal is the best thing that could have happened in my life. It could be that a Guide dog would be equally important to you or your loved one. Do your homework and consider the reality of your lifestyle before you take the plunge.
Yes, I know. You all expect us to be polite and forthcoming when you ask us one of those typical stupid questions. Surprisingly enough, there are times when some of us would like our privacy and space to remain uninvaded. I have here, free for circulation, some useful smart ass answers to those stupid questions sighted people ask blind people. These are to be saved for those inopportune times when blind people find themselves trapped on a bus, train, aircraft, or when attempting to eat a quiet meal in a restaurant etc.
QUESTION: Have you been blind all your life? ANSWER: Not yet.
QUESTION: You blind people have great hearing right? ANSWER: Pardon?
QUESTION: Is that a Guide dog? ANSWER: No, it’s a drug detection dog. I’m a narc disguised as a blind person.
QUESTION: Is that a Labrador? ANSWER: No, it’s a dachshund.
COMMENT: I’d have to kill myself if I went blind. REPLY: Why wait?
COMMENT TO GUIDE DOG (working): You’re sooooo beautiful. REPLY FROM HANDLER: Thank you, but I’m spoken for.
QUESTION: Those dogs are smart, aren’t they? ANSWER: No, it’s pure luck that we get anywhere.
QUESTION (directed to the person standing next to the blind person in a store): Does she need something? REPLY (from blind person): Yes, ’she’ needs to speak with your manager.
If you ever wondered where the nearest Guide Dog School is located, or are curious as to how many there are in various countries, go to the link on my blogroll (Ultimate List of Guide Dog Schools). Pick a nation and you will get names, addresses and contact information for every Guide dog school in the world.
My girl, Opal (IV) and I, are happy graduates of Canadian Guide Dogs For the Blind in Manotick, Ontario, Canada. I am proud of my canine partner. Most of the time, I am happy to answer questions or reply to the numerous comments I receive from the strangers we meet on our treks. And there are plenty of them! 99% of the time, I don’t mind, as long as Opal can get a rest if she needs it, or I’m not having an indulgent, “don’t bug me, I want to be incognito” moment. Here’s a recent transcript of recent conversations I had one day at the mall. These all occurred within a half-hour time frame. We were sitting quietly in a carpeted public seating area, resting, and just enjoying the moment. Stranger one: “That’s a lovely seeing eye dog you have there”. I smile and say to the woman, “thank you…but she’s actually called a Guide dog. Seeing Eye dogs, are guide dogs that come from The Seeing Eye school in Morristown, New Jersey. My dog is from Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind in Ontario. It’s a little like the difference between Kleenex and tissue. Seeing Eye is a ‘brand’ name. There are many different American and Canadian schools where Guide dogs are graduated, like Guiding Eyes, Leader Dogs, Canine Vision, MIRA, etc. A tissue can be a Royale, Puff, store brand or a Kleenex etc. but we inacurrately use the term kleenex, when referring to any tissue”. She seems to have grasped this. Seconds later, a man with a thick Cape Breton accent comes by and says, “Lady, you’ve got one handsome seeing eye dog there”. Once again, I launch into my explanation. This guy is quite surprised and goes on and on about how he had never realized the difference. ”yes”, I say. ”All Seeing Eye dogs are guide dogs, but not all guide dogs are Seeing Eye dogs”. He says something about getting to the pharmacy and leaves. A mom with a couple of kids hovers, and says to the kids, “look Justin and Corry! there’s a lady with a seeing eye dog!” I try to blurt out my pat shpeel, but I’m more concerned with ‘Justin’ who seems to be slithering on the floor, creeping up very close to Opal. I sort the kid out and the mom hauls them both away. The sound of chunky heel approaches. The newcommer it turns out, is meeting up with the lady who is sitting nearby. The new lady says,to her pal, “Hi Raylene…hey! Look at the seeing eye dog right there next to you! She’s a beauty…looks a little like Mike’s dog”. Then to me, “How long have you had your seeing eye dog, dear?” I sigh, and say, with a momentary sense of defeat, but my ever-present pride, “almost two years”.
Do you own a small retail business? Are you a manager or employee in a shop, grocery store or other retail outlet? Here are some basic suggestions to help you or your staff in responding to the needs of your customers who may be blind, or partially sighted. First, think about the physical space in you store. Make it a firm policy to keep floor space clear of boxes and other obstacles. If you have any say in design features, such as lighting and signs, consider inquiring about what can optimize your site. Local organizations for the Blind, may be able to provide you with suggestions of specific types of lighting and how to use them, as well as other ways to create contrast (strips on steps etc.) Signs on bathroom doors should be a combination of large print, tactile symbols and Braille. Building standards and codes vary from place to place, however there are all sorts of Accessibility guidelines and checklists available from many sources, which can help you make your store or business accessible to EVERYONE. It can be daunting, with measurements of counter height and doors for wheelchair accessibility, automatic door openers, ramps, TTY access, etc. but try and think of the overall picture: If someone in a wheelchair, or someone who is Blind or Deaf, were to visit your store, what barriers would they face? ‘People skills’ is usually the aspect of accessibility, which creates the biggest barrier for people with disabilities. For people who are Blind or have limited vision? Here’s what you need to know: Identify yourself as a store employee, before asking a blind or partially sighted customer if they want help. OFFER assistance first (No grabbing of the arm etc.). It could be that the person does not want or need help, so don’t take a refusal personally. If they do want assistance, ask what they require. They will tell you what they need, or how they want to be guided (take your left arm etc.) If you are giving directions, be SPECIFIC. For example, “The washroom door is ten meters away at ten o’clock”, and not “Over there”. If I had a buck for every time I was told something was in that mysterious place called, “over there”, I’d have enough to buy a small condo. If the person has a Guide dog with them? know the do’s and don’ts that pertain to them (no petting, no talking to the dog, no eye contact…) and abide by them. Also be aware of Access laws that protect Guide dogs and their handlers and allow them entry into your business (this extends to other properly qualified service dogs). The dog does not know where to find Ladies lingerie, so the handler might want to take your left arm and go ’sighted guide’, or have the dog “follow”. It’s up to the handler in the specific situation. In a grocery store, Blind people have some unique, preferred methods for shopping. Realize that they can not read labels, or aisle markings. Whoever is available to be a ’shopper’ (clerk who is helping), should have a good knowledge of the store and where everything is located. My biggest frustration in grocery stores stem from ’shoppers’ who can’t find anything, and take me and Opal through a 2 hour odyssey. That’s not fair to the dog. It’s also frustrating to have a ’shopper’ who has little knowledge of what constitutes a ‘good buy’ in produce. I may have access to the online ‘flyer’, but I have no idea what is actually available in the way of produce in the store when I get there, how much it costs, or if it is any good. Packaging makes it impossible for me to smell or feel the trussed-up package of green beans or asparagus, so I am counting on the ’shopper’ to tell me what’s available, how it looks and how much it costs…in a timely fashion. No two ways about it, the art of description requires some thought and practice on the part of store clerks. If the blind customer has a large number of items on the shopping list, the challenge is even greater. Many people who are blind, (with or without a guide dog) will take hold of the shopping cart while the ’shopper’ pulls the cart from the front. That way, a five foot-wide berth is not required to accommodate the cart, customer, ’shopper’ and Guide dog. A good ’shopper’ will advise of tight spots and turns. They will think ahead to where things are located in the store, so that there is no need to wander back and forth in the store. I try to plan for a maximum shopping time of forty minutes, for Opal’s sake. People don’t realize that a grocery store trek is one of the most challenging parts of her job. Smells, food spilled over on the floor, people trying to pet her, and the stop-and -go of the whole adventure is most difficult. She prefers working; being able to “find the bakery counter” at my direction, in a local store (actively working) over a situation where she is in harness, yet not guiding me in the store (when we go for a large number of items that require the help of a ’shopper’ to locate them). Paying for items? Cashiers should (for everyone) say aloud, “out of twenty” when handed a bill. They should put the change in the customers hand, and then give the receipt. If a signature is required for a credit card payment by a blind person, the easiest way to accomplish this, is for you to place the card directly beneath the ‘line’ where they must sign (as a straight edge guide). If your customer with vision loss is taking a cab from your store, try and have someone watch for the taxi, so that they actually know it has arrived (cabbies should know to get out of their car, or at least announce themselves, instead of pulling up in an area where other cars are coming and going when the person waiting can’t distinguish one car from another…but they don’t necessarily). I tend to avoid shops that are so packed with stuff that I can’t navigate. Special displays everywhere create an obstacle course for someone using a white cane. With a Guide dog, a person may be able to work around stuff, but still require adequate manouvering room. If the aisles are too narrow because of bins and displays, Opal can not take me through it, if the space is not there. One thing I emphasize with my blind friends; when someone does an exceptional or even adequate job of assisting you, fuss it up a bit, maybe even tell the manager. When service or access is not adequate, point out the shortcomings. I would love to see all businesses, big and small think about Acessibility issues. I don’t like to refer to my right to shop where I choose, as ACCOMMODATION, but rather, as EVERYDAY INCLUSION. Ask your local service organization for the Blind to give your employees a little ‘blind people relations’ skills talk. Check for pamphlets that they might have for distribution. Create a space where everyone feel welcome and people will come back to spend more money in your place of business. Remember, that they will probably tell other people about their experiences too (good or bad), and THAT has even broader implications.
I love numbers, pneumonics…anything that helps me remember important stuff. Of course, if what I need to remember, has something to do with dogs or Guide dogs, I enjoy my memory aid even more. So, here is my personal Guide Top Ten: a checklist to ensure I’m doing OK with Opal.
0- Zero people food. I do not give Opal any handouts from the table. Giving a guide dog food, other than its rations, is not a good idea, because you must keep their weight within a close range, AND, your dog might get the idea that any food is fair game, including that twinkie she spots lying on the street as you are working across an intersection. You want to get across safely.
1- One person in charge. That would be me, in Opal’s case. I am the only one allowed to give commands and make rules. I am ‘top dog’, ‘Alpha’, ‘leader of the pack’, etc.
2-Two meals. I must provide The Girl with two squares a day, usually around the same time. The ammount is consistent and would only change if her weight had changed. The brand and type is between me and our Vet. It’s not a good idea to be switching a dog’s brand and type of food without a valid reason involving a health issue. “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it”.
3- Three poop bags in my pocket: I don’t want to get caught without my bags. I never know when Opal might have a ‘two-parter’, or even a ‘three -parter’on one trip outside to relieve. On the road? Who knows.
4- Four feet: Opal’s feet are critically important. I wipe them dry on rainy days. I use a small container of warm water to dip her paws into after coming in from travel on salty sidewalks. I have four boots for her to wear on bitter cold days. I check her four paws for cuts, blisters, or any debris that might get stuck to them (chewing gum, tar).
5- Five Point Grooming: Check ears(smell) and clean, if necessary (labs have drop ears which are a natural incubator for bacteria that cause infection)… use a tissue to wipe shmootz from eyes…. explore mouth and gums, and brush teeth with a finger brush and DOGGIE paste…comb and brush coat. Explore body at same time for irregularities…examine feet again.
6- Check Opal’s ’space’ for these six points… accessible fresh water in her bowl…NO access to garbage or food lying around…toys and bones should be checked to see if they are intact and safe…bedding should be clean and dry….Is there anything tempting in range? like socks, rags, medication, electrical cords, cups of boiling hot tea? Dogs have been known to get ill or die from bowel obstruction after swallowing a sock or facecloth. Others have chewed ‘puffers’ (asthma inhalers) and died. Hot drinks can burn. Dogs are individuals. One might be attracted to one danger, another dog to something different…Equipment. Her gear, including leash, play collar, and harness (girth strap, handle, chest strap, reflective sleeve, buckles etc.) should be checked for state of cleanliness and damage that require repair.
7- Seven toys on the go at any given time: It’s tempting to flood a dog (or kid) with a houseful of toys. They don’t need that many. Put some away and switch them around to keep your dog interested. Some toys last longer than others. Some are poorly made and dangerous. Others are just plain boring. (Just because YOU like it, doesn’t mean your dog will be impressed).
8- Eight opportunities for Opal to relieve on a typical day: Weather, health (mine and hers) will alter this number on occasion. If I have a bad flu, it could be that I take her out only five times. If she has diarhea…
9- Nine items in the Disaster Bag: Ok, chances are that we’ll never need the Disaster Bag, but I leave it hanging by the door, just in case. Consider what you might want in yours, if a fire wiped out you house or apartment. Taking care of a dog if you have been wiped out would be difficult, but with these things, life can continue. In our bag, I have… Opals ‘papers’ including Health book, microchip number, and other vet records…dog food in an air tight bag with a dish…a bone in a sealed bag…a toy…a cassette recording of all my important phone numbers…a print out of Opal’s contact information (Canadian Guide Dogs for the Blind, family) and instructions for her care in case of my demise…medication and ID (for BOTH of us)…crank radio…cell phone…and a grooming brush. I replace items as required. (I also have some things for Lucy the cat). When the fire alarm goes off in the building, I do not debate if I should leave, or what I should bring with me. We are outside with the Disaster bag in short order. It’s good practice. Hopefully we will never need our DB.
10- Ten minutes to rest: I give Opal a break after every 45 minutes or so of working in harness. She needs a chance to rest her mind.
I know I started with Zero and that’s actually eleven…but ‘top eleven’ doesn’t have the same ring to it.
I have often wondered how my guide dog, Opal, got accustomed to some of the things she faces in our travels. She doesn’t mind a bus whizzing round a corner near her head. Working her around a construction zone is no problem. Hospitals, grocery stores, malls are taken in stride. She LOVES escalators. My girl is a busybody…fascinated by trucks, people, animals, airplanes overhead etc. She spends as much time looking out the window, as our cat does! Guide dogs start out as puppies too. They are raised by generous and caring families who are willing to take in a little bundle for a set period of time. Then they part with them, hopefully sending them on their way for training as guide dogs. Some dogs make it, some don’t. Guide dogs schools (and there are many in Canada and the United States) usually have a ‘puppy raising’ or ‘puppy walking’ program. I found this on the Guiding Eyes for the Blind web site, on the puppy raising program information page. Margaret Hughes is credited. She created a wonderful set of guidelines about what puppies should experience before 20 weeks of age, in her book, Positive Puppy Training. She says that puppies are most willing to try new things before they are 20 weeks old. To socialize puppies, she suggests exposing them to a variety of experiences. Be sure the experiences are safe and positive, she adds. Accompany with praise. Here are the Puppy’s Rule of Twelve: By the time your puppy is 20 weeks old, it should have:
Experienced 12 different surfaces: wood, woodchips, dirt, mud, puddles, deep pea gravel, grates, uneven surfaces, a table (ie. Vet.) etc.
Introduced to 12 different objects: toys, big and small balls, hard toys, funny sounding toys, metal items, statues, balloons, etc.
Experienced 12 different locations: front yard (daily), other peoples homes, school yard, shopping plazas, lakes, pond, river, boat, basement, elevator, car, moving car, garage, laundry room, kennel, etc.
Met and played with 12 new people (outside of the family): include children, adults, elderly adults, people in wheelchairs, walkers, people with canes, crutches, hats,sunglasses, etc.
Exposed to 12 different noises (ALWAYS keep fun and watch puppy’s comfort level-don’t want it to be scared): garage door opening, doorbell, children playing, babies screaming, big trucks, Harley motorcycles, skateboards, washing machine, power boat, clapping, loud singing, pan dropping, horses neighing, vacuums, lawnmowers, birthday party, etc.
Exposed to 12 fast moving objects (don’t allow to chase): skateboards, roller skates, bicycles, motorcycles, cars, people running, cats running, scooters, vacuums not on, children running, children playing soccer, squirrels, cats, horses running, cows running, shopping carts rolling, etc.
Experienced 12 different challenges: climb on, in, off and around a box, go through a cardboard tunnel, climb up and down steps, climb over obstacles, play hide and seek, go in and out of a doorway with a step up or down, exposed to an electric sliding door, jump over a broom, climb over a log, bathtub (and bath), etc.
Handled by owner (& family) 12 times a week: hold under arm (like a football), hold to chest, hold on floor near owner, hold in-between owner’s legs, hold head, look in ears, mouth, in-between toes, hold and take temperature, hold like a baby, trim toe nails, hold in lap
Formal GEB Body Massage done in 12 different locations
Eaten from twelve different shaped containers: wobbly bowl, metal, paper, plastic, Kong, paper bag, from your hand, etc.
Eaten in 12 different locations: back yard, front yard, crate, kitchen basement, laundry room, bathroom, friend’s house, car, school yard, bathtub, up high (on a cardboard solid box no more than 1 foot off the ground) etc.
Played with 12 different puppies (or safe adult dogs) under supervision.
Left alone safely (in crate) away from family and other animals (5-45 minutes) 12 times a week.
Left alone safely (in crate) near family members (5-45 minutes) 12 times a week.
It is a lovely day in Halifax. I have been stressed out and busy these days. Today, I will take time to stop and smell the proverbial roses. My dog insists. When I am stressed and distracted, Opal is too. She deserves better. My Guide dog (like most dogs) mirrors my mood and anxiety level. Yesterday, I was not as patient or focused as usual while we worked down a busy downtown area. Neither was she. Dogs are a lot like small children, in that they need to feel that the ‘top dog’ (that’s me, in opal’s case) is in charge, and that top dog will consistently provide calm leadership. It is reassuring for dogs (and children) to have rules. They do so much better with routine and consistency in their lives. Don’t think for a second, that dogs don’t have an emotional response to an angry, impatient voice. Of course, humans will be humans. We carry a lot of ridiculous worries around in our head and use our interaction with our dogs as a means of expression. Opal, like any child, does not understand or care that I am unprepared for next week’s meeting, or that I don’t have enough money to buy some items I think I need, or that I feel guilty about not doing my Spanish assignment, and that these things are stuck in my head. She DOES know when I am ill, fearful, stressed, angry etc. She shows her concern if I am sick by being quiet and staying close. She expects little from me, other than food, shelter, love and kindness. I do the best I can. When we’ve had a bit of a bad day, I try to give her (and myself) a chance to regroup the following day. So, on that note, I am going to shut down this blog for today, and take my dog out for a romp in the snow…my version of taking time to smell the roses.
The most frequent comment people make about my Guide dog, Opal, is: “What a beautiful/good-looking/gorgeous dog!” It usually is followed by: ”So shiny”, ”glowing coat”, “like a mirror”. Some ask if she just had a bath. To this I emphatically reply, “NO, I groom my dog daily, but NO BATHS.” There is no good reason to bath a dog, unless they get into something very unpleasant, like oil or poop. My sister’s border collie is off-leash sometimes and seems to zero in on the first available pile of dog poop. Rolling around in it gives him great pleasure. My sister? Not so much. She hoses him down in summer, and hauls him over to the groomers for a bath. Most city dogs are usually on leash at all times, so access to stinky or foul things is limited. A dog’s coat contains oils (like your hair). Regular grooming (MINUS THE BATHS) will ensure that the dog’s coat is maintained. Nature will take care of keeping it shiny. A good dog food will help (stop the people food handouts!) Daily grooming has other advantages. It will give you a chance to know your dog’s body and if there are changes. A little lump or scratch can be taken care of immediately, when you might not otherwise notice for a while (health check). Also, the dog will become accustomed to being touched all over. This is a good thing, because one day, you might need to fuss with an ear or other body part, in an attempt to insert drops or change a bandage. Finally, grooming time is very relaxing and grounding for both the animal and the groomer. So why are people dragging their dogs off the get bathed so often? First, the professional grooming business is huge in North America. They’ll have you believe that you simply MUST wash and fluff Fido, if you really care. Millions of dollars are handed over to the industry… in exchange for what? allieving owner guilt? a dog that develops a lacklustre coat? a dog that might go through a needless stressful time in a ’salon’ environment frenzy? a dog that smells like…something other than a dog? Maybe it’s because I am with my dog all the time, but I LOVE her smell. I find nothing offensive about Opal’s smell when she’s wet. I don’t object to her breath either. Could it be that those people with dogs as pets, instead of a working dog like mine, don’t have the opportunity (left behind when at work or shopping etc) to really get to know and appreciate their dog’s smell?Some might think that I ’spoil’ my dog with attention and care. Yes, I do care for her. I cary water in my backpack for her. I towel her off when she’s damp. I put boots on her if necessary, or clean the salt off her feet immediately. I don’t work her in extreme temperatures. I play with her every day and give her an opportunity to ‘be a dog’. I ensure her safety and emotional comfort. I provide routine and consistency in every aspect of her life…work, sleep, meals, rest, play, grooming, discipline. Dogs need and appreciate this routine and consistency. In exchange? Opal is the gift that keeps on giving.
No one has asked for advice yet today, but I’m going to provide it… to Halifax Regional Municipality (HRM) City Council: Today’s the day I submit my funding request on behalf of the Advisory Committee for Persons With Disabilities (ACPD). Remember? You sent a representative to one of our meetings last autumn. That cheery soul mentioned that there was spare money in the city’s budget. When he asked if anyone on the ACPD had suggestions for using it for a ‘disabilily’-related project, I blurted out, “Fenced runs for Service dogs”!!! That generated questions. I explained that Guide dogs and other working dogs, needed a place to run…a fenced, grassy area within an existing park, where owners, or handlers of Guide and Service dogs, could let their dogs ‘blow the stink off’ (Nova Scotian expression) in a SAFE environment. I pointed out that our dogs are too valuable to set loose, even in an off-leash park. Most of us who have working dogs do not own property with fenced yards. We live in apartments and ride public transit. Even an off-duty Guide dog with excellent recall, can be tempted to wander out of range in some situations. Personally, I will not risk losing track of my Guide dog, Opal. She could get lost, become injured, or eat litter that would make her ill. I mentioned that I had heard about some large American cities having fenced dog runs. So, City Guy told me to whip up a proposal for Council. In the weeks to follow, I spoke with Guide dog owners and handlers. I Googled and e-mailed a zillion people and organizations. Local opinion was strong. People liked the idea…a lot. One guy with a guide dog suggested that ANY dog be allowed to use the proposed runs. I drafted my initial proposal, which also included a request for signatures of support. I posted it here and there (vets’ etc.). By November, City Guy came back to the ACPD with initial response from the legal beagles. They were concerned about liability issues and feared expensive working dogs might be torn apart in the proposed run, by an aggressive pet dog. His city planning types recommended bells and whistles, such as, lighting, security cameras…I was asked to re-jig the proposal as a ’service dog only’ run. Done. Better a limited version of the run, than no version, I think. So, my advice? Approve the idea. Fund it. It will make Halifax a model for Canadian cities…and Opal will have a place to run. See Opal run!!!!!
It’s a slow day for advice. Apparently all is well with the world. I know it is in mine. Why, you ask? I have shelter, food, water, reasonable health…and a Guide dog. Life for a person who is blind can go lots of different directions. Sometimes the challenge of vision loss can really bum a person out. My life took a huge upbeat when my Guide dog, Opal came into my life. Sure, you’ve all seen guide dogs at work, but have you ever stopped to think how incredibly awesome they truly are? Here’s what’s going on when YOU see a guide dog team at work:
the handler (blind gal holding the harness) is making the decisions.
the Guide dog can over-rule if the decision would result in danger. This is called Intelligent Disobedience (example: Guide dog stops handler from stepping in front of a car).
Distraction is the Guide dog’s biggest challenge. It comes in the form of scents (dogs have a nose 1000 to 10,000 times more functional than a human shnoz), other animals (usually dogs, but sometimes the run-of-the-mill cat and squirrel, noise, movement (like fountains and planes), discarded food, and other unexpected things.
Guide dogs get mentally tired long before their bodies tire out. 45 minutes of harness work should be followed by a break.
At home, they are very much like any dog…they need to play, sleep, eat, be groomed, and above all, they need affection.
As a team, Guide dog and their handlers are allowed everywhere (Access Laws)
Only a small percentage of dogs bred as Guides, actually qualify. It is the hardest ‘job’ a service dog can have.
Quiet, are’nt they? they are trained not to bark (all heck would break loose if they worked AND barked)
All dogs are colour blind. They don’t know what the traffic light colour scheme means. The handler listens for flow of traffic to determine when to cross.
The kindest thing, and the RIGHT thing to do when you meet a person with a Guide dog is:
Do not touch the dog when working (in harness).
Do not call or talk to the dog. ditto whistling, waving or other silly noises. Avoid eye contact with the dog.
Do not feed anything to the dog.
Never give the dog a command, even when it is not working.
Don’t call it by name (chances are, the handler has given you a fake name if you are a stranger…that’s the drill)
If offering assistance at a noisy street crossing, speak to the handler and ASK what they prefer (example: taking your arm, following, or nothing)
gum wads (these stick to their paw pads) and other discarded food is a Guide dog handler’s nightmare.
