I’ve never defined this blog as being about any particular thing since it gives me the freedom to write about whatever crosses my mind, but it’s no secret that a great deal of the time I’m nattering on about one or more of my guide dogs. That’s not surprising since they are a huge part of my life and when I started blogging I’d already been working with Dolly for about two years.
So, sometimes I take it for granted that people know these dogs as well as I do, when in fact outside of my family there is only one other person who has so far1 met all three of my guide dogs. Clearly, this is an elite club, so I think we should rectify this gross oversight.
Everyone, meet Dolly.
As you can see, predictably for a Labrador retriever, she was a bit goofy. But while she certainly had her silly moments, in all honesty her personality was more a mix of serious and happy. Or seriously happy.
No, really, Dolly was a very happy dog. She wagged her tail almost constantly, from a slight bobbing swish in time to her walk to a hard drumming thump. Our favorites were the 360° helicopter whirl she had when she was very excited and the full-body wiggle that couldn’t be anything but pure ecstasy. She even carried her tail like it was a smile, held up high and curled around. One of the trainers at Guiding Eyes remarked that it was almost like a pig’s tail.
She was an enthusiastic companion, especially if water or snow were involved. During the first summer of our partnership we built her a ramp so she could get in and out of our above ground pool. That winter she saw her first snowfall and while her initial reaction was a bit of skeptical fear, she quickly learned the fluffy white stuff was tons of fun to jump through and dig around in! One of her favorite things was to sit by the driveway while we shoveled so she could get buried deep underneath a blanket of snow and tunnel her way back out.
Her favorite playtime activity was definitely Frisbee. She took the activity like she was a professional player, catching the disc while doing a backflip in the air or other assorted acrobatics. Hilariously, I never had to teach her any of those fancy skills, just encourage her when she performed them. Instead, I had to show her how to catch toys in her mouth because she instinctively would try to jump up and grab them with her front paws! She was a quick study in any task, though, learning several different “fun” skills like begging and speaking. She even knew all of her toys by name and would search the house for that specific one if asked. “Search” here meaning she would race up the stairs to my bedroom in a mad dash to find the toy as quickly as possible. And when that one wasn’t readily available, she’d bring down her Frisbee . . . or one of my socks.
While she was certainly exuberant, she was actually incredibly quiet. She almost never let out even a peep and my parents were convinced she didn’t even know how to bark until I taught her to speak on command. In fact, she didn’t even whine when she was in pain, which caused us no amount of grief at times. She did, however, snore like a lawn mower. One memory I have of college as a freshman was in a class of over 200 students in a huge lecture hall. Dolly had fallen asleep and started up her colossal snoring and around me students were giggling and snickering. Eventually she got so loud, I prodded her with my foot to try and wake her up, which she did by jumping with a great snort! Down below the professor let out an audible laugh and noted that he was honestly getting quiet annoyed with the student that was “so rude as to fall asleep in his class.”
Her defining Labrador trait was that she loved to eat and she did so with gusto. There wasn’t much she wouldn’t eat and that included a few towels and at least one pillow, but her favorite things were bananas, ice cream and bread. The bananas were a discovery her puppy raiser made and throughout the whole of Dolly’s life if someone ate a banana around her they would inevitably have to tithe a piece. For her third birthday, the first one she had as my partner, I brought her to a local ice cream shop that had a “doggy sundae” on the menu. It became a birthday tradition and there were a few during my college years that required quite a lot of finessing to accomplish. We kept it to that one time a year, though, because while Dolly loved the ice cream it didn’t love her back nearly as much. The bread discovery was made some time after we were partnered. My dad bought a bread machine and in testing it out the first few loaves came out with the tops broken, which he gave to Dolly and forevermore she was hooked on it. She’d take a piece of bread over the choicest cut of steak!
She was a creature of comfort and I partially blame GEB for this. During our month of training she developed warts on her feet, which at first was thought to be a solitary issue easily taken care of. Before we discovered how severe the warts were, though, we spent several weeks doing all we could to keep Dolly off her feet. One of the trainers graciously donated one of my bed pillows to Dolly and from then on it seemed that any pillow was the dog’s. Stuffed animals also were fair game.
Her arch enemy were tags. She ripped them off of everything: her toys, our throw pillows, a few of my stuffed animals. She even ripped the one off my mattress that very prominently stated it shouldn’t be removed by penalty of law! After the Evil Tag was removed from one of her toys, she would then methodically rip out their eyes. I once remarked about how that was kind of creepy and my father deadpanned, “Job security.”
He probably wasn’t wrong because Dolly was definitely, well, serious about her work. Or what she felt was her work. Mostly, I think, she thought her job was to parade around showing everyone what a pretty girl she was. She schmoozed any one she could into giving her some attention and praise. Which isn’t to say she didn’t take her job of guiding seriously, but she always wanted things her way and if she didn’t get them she would make it known. Often she would sit beside me giving the world her grumpy face, which is really saying something for a black dog with black eyes but she really did have the most expressive face. If she really felt exasperated with me, she’d very purposefully plow me face first into something. It started during training actually. I don’t even remember what happened, probably I’d stopped her from scarfing down something on the ground . . . and suddenly one of the trainers came running up behind me mere seconds before I was walked into a telephone pole.
Essentially she was a dog that truly approached life with joie de vivre. Everything was on her terms whether working, playing, eating, or even sleeping. And I can’t really fault her because she was genuinely a very happy girl.
The theme for the tenth #ADBC was “Perfect 10″ which could be interpreted in several different ways. My submission focused on the “myth” of perfection, but while going through my usual initial post writing struggle I looked through my drafts here and stumbled on this long dormant post idea. I’m more of a “seat of your pants” type when writing blog posts and that doesn’t really lend itself to the blogging fad of top-ten type list posts, but this seemed an appropriate time to finally dust this draft off and share some of the
ways people make asses of themselves incorrect assumptions the general public have about guide dogs.
#10. Guide dogs are not pedigreed
In point of fact, all three of my guide dogs have been purebreds, but I am very often confronted by people who choose to challenge this. I’m not entirely sure if these people just feel I’ve been swindled by my guide dog school and actually have a mongrel, but sometimes the tone suggests these same people feel they just know more that I do about the breed of dog I happen to be working with. The one thing that they don’t understand is that while my dog might not be the ideal of the breed standard, her breeding was as meticulously planned out as the finest show dog. Training schools most often breed their own dogs because they can better track the specific traits that are important in a future guide dog, especially since these are not necessarily the same qualities a breeder would target. Through breeding their own dogs the schools also have access to the genetic history of their dogs, which is important in producing sound and healthy dogs.
#9. Guide dogs are better than white canes
This is not about my personal preference of working with a guide dog over a white cane, but rather the misguided belief that there’s almost a continuum of mobility aides that a blind person uses. Both are fine tools to travel independently, but not necessarily the best tool for each individual blind person. There are pros and cons to both and in my case the pros of a guide dog far outweigh the cons in comparison to using a white cane. For what it’s worth, I am a strong supporter of every blind person learning to use and possessing a white cane even if they have enough residual vision to travel without one and/or work with a guide dog. It’s just a handy skill to have, like knowing how to read Braille.
#8. Guide dogs love their job
This is perhaps one of the few assumptions that isn’t so much inaccurate as only partly true. Guide dogs do enjoy their jobs and to them it’s less work as just what they’re supposed to do. It’s a choice she’s made to be in this role and one she continues to make each day. I know this by the enthusiasm and excitement she has in her work and even, more often than not, the mere anticipation of doing work. However, for as much as I personally love my job, there are days I’d rather just lounge around the house doing anything but and I’m sure guide dogs must feel the same way now and then. Which is why I do my best to make her working life as far from mundane as I can. For instance, I give her lots of positive reinforcement and we have our own downtime to just let her be a dog.
#7. Absent a guide dog handlers are helpless
It’s rare that I’m not working my guide dog when out of the house. And I admit I’ve had words with people who’ve tried to persuade me to not bring my dog along just because they don’t particularly like being around the dog. I’ve also had words with those that stated the opposite: that they “worry” about me when I’m separated from my guide dog. Yes, I depend on her, but that doesn’t not make me dependent. Though I greatly prefer to have her guide me when I’m going somewhere, especially a place I am unfamiliar with, I am not incapable of navigating independently without her. Furthermore . . .
#6. The guide dog does all the “work”
We call ourselves “a team” for a reason because it’s a joint partnership and we work together, but for whatever reason people seem to think that guide dogs are less leading a blind person and more physically dragging them from place to place. I suppose that would work just fine if guide dogs were automatons with the power to read minds, but then they would probably be less satisfied with their jobs guiding the blind and just revolt and take over the Earth. In all seriousness, though, I admit that there have been times I’ve sort of spaced out and my guide dog has pretty much worked without my input. However, most of the time when that’s happened my dog just gets sloppy and I don’t so much magically end up where I’d planned as I do walking face first into a door. The metaphor of the camel’s nose (“give them an inch, and they’ll take a mile”) comes to mind. Essentially, what I’m saying is that if I let her do all the work, we’d spend much less time getting where I wanted to be and far more time sniffing every tree we came across.
#5. Guide dog team are best friends
I love my guide dogs a great deal and we share a very significant and special bond. However, she’s really not best friend material. Personally, I prefer a bit more stimulating conversation and a bit less watching her lick her rear end. I’m sure she loves me just as much as I do her and it’s probably fair to say that I’m her favorite human, but I’m still not a dog and judging from the exuberance of her playtime I think dogs find other dogs infinitely more fun.
#4. Guide dogs are superior to other dogs
Personally, I find comparing completely pointless, but I do have a lot of people profess to me how great my guide dog is in regard to pretty much any other dog. A lot of the time people are trying to find a way to ask about what happens to career-changed dogs. Dogs that are released from guide dog training programs far outnumber those that actually work in harness and there are a great number of reasons any potential guide dog could fall short. Each school has their own particulars about what dogs will or won’t meet their qualifications, but they all strive to find an equally fulfilling life for the dog. Some go on to other working careers such as therapy or drug detection; while others find their niche in life is to be a loved pet. Regardless of where they end up, they’re valued and that makes them superior in their own way.
#3. Another (pet) dog is “just like” a working guide dog
This one is somewhat related to #4. It’s not very often that someone says this directly to me, but I do hear the statement that “such-and-such dog is just like [my] guide dog” or “such-and-such dog could actually be a guide dog.” Maybe it’s true. But, probably, it’s not. I’ve known some very smart, obedient, and well-behaved dogs in my life, but those qualities don’t necessarily make a guide dog. For one, as important as formal training is that is only one part of the preparation future guide dogs receive. In fact, their entire puppyhood is about preparing them for their potential working life and often the qualities that make a dog a good guide are exactly the things that make them not so great pets. For instance, a guide dog should be obedient and well-behaved, but also stubborn and intelligent enough to know when to disobey a command or take the initiative to do something on their own. This is a very uncommon skill and one of the more difficult aspects of guide dog training. That other dog might be really exceptional, but it does not mean they’re guide dog material.
#2. A working guide dog is still training
Okay, technically this is more accurately a team assumption, but it is literally the most common thing I hear after the general stat inquiries about my guide dogs. For a very long time I used to take this to mean that people thought I didn’t need a guide dog — and for what it’s worth I have had people (even family members) outright state this. I’ve also had it come from a place of justifying what is perceived as my guide dog misbehaving. The truth is actually less offensive and more amusing, though, because what it usually comes down to is that people generally don’t recognize the difference between a person who is partnered with a guide dog and a volunteer1 with a puppy in pre-training. Part of this is due to the common misunderstanding that “blind” means “totally blind,” so people often mistake the ability to see anything for being fully sighted. Honestly, I think people just don’t expect to run across a real guide dog team, so they are genuinely inquiring out of curiosity. That said, this isn’t a wholly inaccurate assumption, in my opinion. While guide dogs have essentially had years of training, it really doesn’t stop the day they are partnered with their handler or when the team finishes their instruction. Maintaining the high level of training that a guide dog has received is a constant process and a lot of that is how the team bonds. But to avoid confusion I personally tend to avoid using the term “train” when referencing obedience exercises or other bonding activities that would specifically fall into this category.
#1. Guide dogs never make mistakes
The basic assumption is that guide dogs are perfect and this one is particularly difficult because it is the general expectation the public seem to have of guide dogs. I also find that handlers tend to be highly critical of other teams and judge them poorly if they witness mistakes being made. I’m guilty of once thinking this was true myself and my inability to achieve perfection with my guide dog partner was the cause of great shame for me. I thought the fact that my guide dog made mistakes was because of my shortcomings as a handler. I felt that perhaps my guide dog wasn’t meant to be my partner. I even thought it made us a failure as a team. The truth is mistakes happen. Guide dogs are dogs regardless of their high level of training and they are fallible. As are their human partners. It’s simply a fact of life and expecting differently is a standard which no one can achieve and will only succeed in causing disappointment.
- The specifics of the mistaken assumption, I think, vary depending on where you live. In the City where several training schools work, I’ve had many people think I was a guide dog instructor. Whereas at home my dog is often thought to still be awaiting formal training as I live in a pretty active puppy raising region. ↩
For the ninth #ADBC I was initially going to write a post sparked by a friend’s rather innocent question about whether I’d ever consider keeping one of my guide dogs after she retired. I’m often asked about my retired guide dogs. People want to know what happens to a guide dog after they are no longer working. Others are just curious about the specifics of my retired girls. But as often happens the post I submitted was something very different. Even so the idea has continued to gnaw at me for quite some time now. It’s not so much the question itself, which is easily enough answered with a resounding yes. Rather it’s the fact that it was asked in the first place because I think it’s not so much a choice to keep my guide dog, but whether I can and/or what is the best post-harness home for her.
Before I go on further let me take the time to stress one thing: I am incredibly grateful to Dad and Keith for opening up their home to both Dolly and Yara. I don’t mean to downplay their generosity and I’m thrilled that it’s allowed me to keep the girls in my life, albeit a bit removed.
Retiring a guide dog is not one of the easier aspects of being a handler and has been some of the most difficult decisions I’ve had to make in my life. A major part of being partnered with a guide dog entails developing an incredibly strong and very unique bond and severing, or even altering, that is extremely difficult. Very often there are extenuating circumstances that add to this, like Yara’s many health issues and then spending six months in a limbo of uncertainty from the time I initiated her retirement to the day it became official.
Even when you’ve prepared in advance for this sad event it’s still a complicated and difficult process. I had always intended for Dolly to have a working life capped off with as much enjoyment as possible and so my plan from very early on was to retire her at 10, unless something, e.g. her health, dictated it should be sooner. Anyway, the long and the short of it is that my plans for her were disrupted by a job offer that required six months of training in Arkansas. In something of a whirlwind I ended up retiring her several months earlier than I’d initially intended and it was terrifying and sad all at the same time. But even before all that chaos, I was already dreading the day she wouldn’t be walking by my side any longer.
The thing of it is, not working with your partner is only part of what makes retirement such a hard thing. It’s a big part, sure. And on the part of the dog is one that is hard to predict how they’ll adjust to. The fear is always that they’ll react badly to not being with their partner all the time; that they’ll need something to occupy themselves with after years of busy work; etc., etc., etc. So, in my case, we prepared for that and certainly both girls had an adjustment period, but they each slipped into their new lives as spoiled pets with a lazy, even expectant ease. And that’s a solace for me because, well, that’s what retirement should be!
What I find the most difficult — and incidentally where the actual choice comes in — is accepting that my home is no longer the ideal situation for my guide dog. Sure, no one can possibly take care of them the way I have over the years. No one will ever have that level of closeness with them as I have shared. And no one will ever truly know them as in-depth as I have come to.
And I admit, selfishly, I just don’t want to be separated from my dogs!
In the end, it’s always about what is the best situation for the dog, though. And the crux of both my experiences was that there was a large unknown factor and not being endowed with powers of clairvoyance I couldn’t know how things would turn out. It just wasn’t fair to either girl to put her through such a potentially stressful situation, especially when retirement is inherently stressful to begin with. I also think that having the one big change — moving to my dad’s — followed by a constant stability in their lives has only helped them to transition into retirement with that much more ease.1
What I have learned through these experiences is that it’s nigh impossible to predict where your life will bring you in a year, let alone eight. And so much as my heart yearns to keep my retired guide dog, in my previous two experiences it hasn’t been the best option. I’ve been extremely lucky to have things work out as they have, though, and that is no small happy in my life. Which is to say while I expect that Uschi will still be hanging around here when she’s no longer racing about like a wild puppy, I am open to the possibility that may not end up being what the future holds. And like before it will be a terribly difficult, but ultimately worthwhile choice.
- Not to mention the bribery of being spoiled relentlessly. ↩
During my last year of college a friend introduced me to yoga, which turned out to be one of the most difficult and fulfilling workouts I’ve ever done. Over the last decade I’ve kept up the practice, though, not always very regularly. And since the whole issue with my neck started I literally haven’t done anything. I’m sure if I had tried to find some specific movement or modification I could have maintained my daily routine, but for three months I could barely move at all and I definitely couldn’t be in any position for any length of time.
After the more excruciating pain subsided, though, I still didn’t start back up. Part of that was just plain laziness and it’s hardly the first time I’ve fallen out of the habit of working out because of that. But mostly I was scared I’d hurt myself further. Not from the yoga itself, which is virtually impossible to do if you pay attention to your weaknesses and don’t push past your limitations.
No, it was because of Uschi. See all of my guide dogs have shown some degree of interest in watching me while I work out. Dolly just wanted to be right next to me and no matter where I’d put her in a down-stay she would slowly creep her way right next to my mat. I think it stemmed from watching me go through physical therapy for my knee and having to lie by the pool but not being allowed in. She never got in the way, so I didn’t really feel a need to correct her for breaking the down-stay. Actually, there was a great picture I had of her lying across my mat between my legs in a Warrior II stance; unfortunately, like most of her photos they disappeared in the Great ‘Puter Crash of Aught Six. Yara and Uschi are much more obvious about their curiosity of the actual workout. Always the observer, Yara would just sit and watch me, often with her head cocked to the side as if trying to understand exactly what I was doing. Uschi may well be doing the same thing, but what had me so fearful of her injuring me was that without fail whenever I was done and just lying on my mat she would rush right up and happily pounce all over me. Even worse, most of the time she would come at me from behind my head, standing on my hair and pinning me to the floor while she exuberantly licked every inch of me she could reach.
Admittedly, post-yoga meditation is not the only time she does this and in fact she’s quite happy to pounce on me whenever she thinks I’m prone. I’ve mostly gotten her to be less crazy about it, but it hasn’t completely stopped this weird habit of hers and if she’s behind me I have no leverage to shove her off. And it’s really hard to give a verbal correction with the threat of a dog tongue in your mouth. Yes, I could just crate her when I’m running through a routine. For the record, I did expect that this was going to be how we’d start to fix the issue and for the first few days that’s what I’ve done. But for the most part she has the freedom to go in or out of her crate as she pleases and I’d rather not confine her just for this. And really it’s not resolving the actual behavioral issue.
Anyway, I recently had a doctor’s appointment and was quite displeased to discover how much weight I’ve apparently gained. It’s not an alarming amount of weight, but it wasn’t a surprise either given how my pants have been fitting lately. Given that I tend to walk much less during the colder months this was a big motivational push to get back into an exercise routine. So, I started my morning yoga again earlier this week. I did the most baby routine imaginable and even so I felt it to the point that I seriously thought I might have pushed myself too far and hurt myself. I could have let that be my excuse to stop, but I am happy to say that I’ve diligently done at least 40 minutes of yoga every day since. I can’t quite tell if it’s helping the pain issues since it’s still a bit early and I’m also on a pain killer. I can say that I definitely feel like I’ve been working out in pretty much every area of my body. But the most remarkable thing I can report is about Uschi.
On her birthday I gave her a huge raw meaty bone to nom on after breakfast and she contented herself to the task so completely that I didn’t crate her while I went through my routine. When I was finished she was lying on her bed sort of lazily looking at me as best she could from her vantage point, but she didn’t hop right up and maul me with puppy gusto. Now one time is just a fluke, but I did remark that it was kind of amusing that she turned four and suddenly became enough of an adult to realize the taboo. On Thursday she was still on her best behavior and has continued to leave me be. She’s still pretty interested in watching me. In fact yesterday morning she spent a good portion of time doing her own version of Upward Facing Dog while I was stretching that I’m giving serious thought to training her to do it on command and get a photo of us both.