I wanted to share a recent experience. It’s something that happens to guide dog handlers more often than we’d like to admit. It’s also something that I personally consider unnecessary and find the cultural stigma of some foreign populations attached to coming into contact with a service dog fearing uncleanliness frustrating, especially after recent statements from religious leaders that helping someone with a service dog is a good deed and outweighs the risk of saliva contact.

. Maybe this is ignorant on my part and maybe I should be more tolerant but when one has to face ignorance each and every day, when one must greet each day saying, “wow, I hope my disability is only a mild problem today,” it is even harder to find tolerance for others who claim not to want to help a person like me because of religious beliefs.

Ah, well, onto the story.

One morning in May, I called a local taxi company for an appointment. I called with extra time because I knew from prior incidents that I might need the time just in case the driver refused me due to my guide dog. I gave myself 45 minutes to go 3 miles in the same city. I told the dispatcher not to send me a driver who would refuse me, as I’d had the experience of being refused because of my dog once already and he was also the same dispatcher on the day it happened last year. He assured me he would send a driver who would not refuse me.

 

In a point of digression and fact, I do not need to disclose my disability to request the same service as my peers without a disability. By Federal law outlined in the ADA I am to receive equal access to all modes of public transportation with my service dog. It sure sounds good on paper, but in reality it’s a crap shoot with the taxi services and is a chronic problem with shared ride services like Uber and Lift. I disclosed because I thought it would avoid the possibility of a ride refusal.

 

Well, back to my story. I waited 15 minutes. He didn’t show. I called dispatch. He spoke to the driver while I was on the phone. Then, as luck had it, my friend got off the bus, came over and watched the whole situation unfold. I am grateful that fate and circumstance put a witness where I needed one. She told me the car number when the driver would not. She told me how he idled two blocks away when the dispatcher told him to come get me. She told me when the car came; he crept up to where c I stood as if he didn’t want me to notice he was there. She heard him say he e couldn’t take me because my dog was too big. And then, after the dispatcher told him he had to take me, he changed his excuse to, “I’m allergic, I can’t take her,”

 

By then I was mad and had to hold back from yelling at him to go back to his country because he isn’t helping anyone here.

 

I then called his boss, who called the police and the driver has since been issued a summons and is due to appear in court. This is his first summons, but, I wonder, will it be his last?

 

I am all for fighting the good fight and mostly step up and do my share. I do my best to be fair and unbiased. I am also getting burned out. I am tired of fighting, of the anxiety I feel when I call a taxi, knowing my chances of this happening again is a fifty-fifty shot. I wonder if it will ever get better. Since I don’t have a crystal ball and no friends named Nostradamus, I guess I will have to put on my big girl panties and suck it up. Drivers with road rage ain’t got nothin’ on me, in my world it’s called refusal rage. I am hoping it doesn’t happen again, but it will and I hope I can keep a lid on it and not resort to nasty language for next time. It really bothers me and I am ashamed when I lose control like that. I also wish there was a way to get these drivers to understand what it is like, have them walk in my shoes; maybe then attitudes will change for the better.

 

 

 

I wanted to share a recent experience. It’s something that happens to guide dog handlers more often than we’d like to admit. It’s also something that I personally consider unnecessary and find the cultural stigma of some foreign populations attached to coming into contact with a service dog fearing uncleanliness frustrating, especially after recent statements from religious leaders that helping someone with a service dog is a good deed and outweighs the risk of saliva contact.

. Maybe this is ignorant on my part and maybe I should be more tolerant but when one has to face ignorance each and every day, when one must greet each day saying, “wow, I hope my disability is only a mild problem today,” it is even harder to find tolerance for others who claim not to want to help a person like me because of religious beliefs.

Ah, well, onto the story.

One morning in May, I called a local taxi company for an appointment. I called with extra time because I knew from prior incidents that I might need the time just in case the driver refused me due to my guide dog. I gave myself 45 minutes to go 3 miles in the same city. I told the dispatcher not to send me a driver who would refuse me, as I’d had the experience of being refused because of my dog once already and he was also the same dispatcher on the day it happened last year. He assured me he would send a driver who would not refuse me.

 

In a point of digression and fact, I do not need to disclose my disability to request the same service as my peers without a disability. By Federal law outlined in the ADA I am to receive equal access to all modes of public transportation with my service dog. It sure sounds good on paper, but in reality it’s a crap shoot with the taxi services and is a chronic problem with shared ride services like Uber and Lift. I disclosed because I thought it would avoid the possibility of a ride refusal.

 

Well, back to my story. I waited 15 minutes. He didn’t show. I called dispatch. He spoke to the driver while I was on the phone. Then, as luck had it, my friend got off the bus, came over and watched the whole situation unfold. I am grateful that fate and circumstance put a witness where I needed one. She told me the car number when the driver would not. She told me how he idled two blocks away when the dispatcher told him to come get me. She told me when the car came; he crept up to where c I stood as if he didn’t want me to notice he was there. She heard him say he e couldn’t take me because my dog was too big. And then, after the dispatcher told him he had to take me, he changed his excuse to, “I’m allergic, I can’t take her,”

 

By then I was mad and had to hold back from yelling at him to go back to his country because he isn’t helping anyone here.

 

I then called his boss, who called the police and the driver has since been issued a summons and is due to appear in court. This is his first summons, but, I wonder, will it be his last?

 

I am all for fighting the good fight and mostly step up and do my share. I do my best to be fair and unbiased. I am also getting burned out. I am tired of fighting, of the anxiety I feel when I call a taxi, knowing my chances of this happening again is a fifty-fifty shot. I wonder if it will ever get better. Since I don’t have a crystal ball and no friends named Nostradamus, I guess I will have to put on my big girl panties and suck it up. Drivers with road rage ain’t got nothin’ on me, in my world it’s called refusal rage. I am hoping it doesn’t happen again, but it will and I hope I can keep a lid on it and not resort to nasty language for next time. It really bothers me and I am ashamed when I lose control like that. I also wish there was a way to get these drivers to understand what it is like, have them walk in my shoes; maybe then attitudes will change for the better.

 

 

 

 

 

Second Dog Update

 

He’s large and silly

Goes to work with

A sniff and a bound

Guiding me around

 

He greets folks with a lick

So far no one’s gotten ticked

Off and grossed out.

 

Yes, folks, it’s been a month since Bailey and I were reunited after I left training with pneumonia. So far, we are working well together and he’s learning my routes and I’m learning his personality. He and Verona are getting along well and even Nikka has accepted him, evidenced by play-bowing with him a few weeks ago. We were stunned. Nikka must be getting mellow with age, as she hasn’t done that with any other dog besides Verona.

 

Titan the cat and Bailey have worked out their relationship, too. Bailey shows restraint and I am very proud of him.

 

The inconvenience of working a yellow lab is all on the outside; you guessed it, light colored hair. Being someone who wears black and dark colors, this is not fun. I am slowly changing my work wardrobe to khaki pants, light blue pants, pastels and other light colored clothing. I’m also on the lookout for a purse sized lint/hair remover. He is a heavy shedder and brushing him, adding fish oil to his diet and doing an hour brushing on weekends has helped but he’s still dropping hair as if he’s a golden retriever. Ugh.

 

I also got a memory photo book from his puppy raiser and first Mommy, Pat Bailey Weber. OMG, I wish I could see those pictures. My sister spent a while describing them and it brought tears to my eyes. He is loved and benefitted from such a great life and because of it; he is so good with me. I am forever grateful to Pat, and to Carol, who raised Verona.

 

We took our first overnight trip up to Albany. He was phenomenal on the platform, in the station, and around the hotel. He only like to relieve on pavement, and I am so glad, it’s so much easier when traveling. Just find the parking lot and get ‘er done.

 

Future plans include some long weekends upstate, the NY Renaissance fair, and a trip to the lake. I can’t wait to clip on the long line and watch him swim.  He’s gotten a hold on my heart and every day the bond grows. Maybe I’ll write a poem about it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dog Blogumentary Part 7: Graduation
Hello readers, it’s the Sunday after our official graduation and we are doing great. Bailey is snoozing in his crate, a half chewed Budda bone lying next to him. This morning we went out in the cold (when is it going to get warm?) and practiced obedience and targeting the relief area and the path back to the building in harness. He did great. My recuperation is still a work in progress. Today I am fatigued and aches and pains are plentiful. Sigh.

Yesterday, though, I was energetic and ready for a full day of emotions and excitement. Our action instructor picked us up and drove us to the Yorktown facility. We got to let the dogs in the class play in the community run. Wow, it was interesting. The instructors were alert and ready for anything. The dogs were like pogo sticks and racehorses; running, jumping, wrestling, and doing it with complete abandon. After that, we went to lunch, leaving our dogs in the rooms to rest before the big event. At 1:30 we were ready to go, were escorted into Alumni Hall for the ceremony and Bailey and the dog next to him taunted one another and we had to practically wrestle them into position under the chairs. Then, Mr. Houdini tried wriggling out of his harness but didn’t make it all the way, thankfully. We met his raiser, one of the regional managers for Guiding Eyes’ puppy raising areas in Maine, for whom he was named. We got some pictures and talked about Bailey, his personality and how he responds, etc. I learned he is a strong swimmer, has been riding in cars and boats and travels well. He prefers his crate/kennel and is socially excitable with people but can quiet down with firm direction and handling. Nothing I didn’t already figure out while training with him. I also discovered he prefers to return a ball when the person sits down in a chair rather than standing up. He needs to work on his off-leash recall. This is all very workable and he is not even 2 yet – his birthday is April 25th.

Thank you, Guiding Eyes, Pat Weber, and all the people involved in Bailey’s development. This is my second dog and he is as different as I needed him to be. He and Verona get along very well, he tolerates Nikka as if he has known her for years and he and our cat are learning to give one another the personal space a cat desires for peaceful cohabitation. Thanks for reading and enjoy the upcoming holidays.

working and playing together

 

Friday we learned how to work a route with another team. It was fun and rewarding. Bailey took me around a bunch of spilled tomatoes on the ground on the sidewalk as we passed the food bank. Thanks to that accidental opportunity I learned more of his body language and corrected myself and learned how he problem solves. Good stuff. Next. We got to know one another even more in a private play session. We worked on recall “come” and treating him when he returned the toy or just came to me. We do need to work on this, though. I then went to Pet Smart and found the toys he preferred. A wubba, a canvas tug toy and a nuylabone that looks like a crazy wish bone. Since I felt really horrible when we returned from our morning trip, I skipped the Saturday session and stayed in bed. Today I caught up today with backing up and a mini-traffic check with a shopping cart indoors. This helped me understand how he moves and gave me some much needed practice on following him even when it’s really awkward. What a good boy.

 

Today was bootie time. Also another potentially awkward task. We did okay, will need to practice  putting them on. But he walks very nicely in them.

 

One thing I really wanted to write about is how much the students here help one another. Sharing the student experience has helped me tremendously. I have heard a lot of second dog stories, good and not so good. I wasn’t sure what to expect, so I went into it with no expectations, only a positive frame of mind and this has suited me well thus far. Now that I’m one week into this experience I think I’d like to describe it like this: it’s like a first dog only better. It’s just as demanding physically (maybe even more so since I’ve aged 6 years) and mentally and emotions run high, too. There is, however, a level of adjustment unique to already having been a handler. The struggle with the equipment, while still a little awkward, isn’t as intimidating. The husbandry part is familiar and grooming and the dog-centric knowledge is comforting, too. The movements are like an ever so familiar dance and it feels good when it happens so quickly, unlike the first time. Knowing what to do helps the transition.

 

There is a woman in our class that is here for her first dog at an age when most folks wouldn’t even consider it; I’ve grown a fondness for her. She is experiencing much of what I did the first time. The doubts, tears and questioning if she’ll ever get how to turn, pivot and learn all the skills. It is overwhelming at first — that is a fact. I keep saying  to her that I want to be the first one to congratulate her on graduation and that her doubts are normal and healthy. If she wants it badly enough, she will do it and be there with us on graduation day. Today I watched her and the instructor practice her turns and I recalled how I had to do that, too. I assured her, later, after dinner, that her goals of increasing her independence and working on being more active are worthwhile and achievable. She will have a loyal and steady partner at her side to work with her and that is the best part of it, doing it together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dog Day and wiggly Yellow Labradors

Tuesday early morning:

Okay, folks, before I announce my new partner, I want to describe a little bit more about things during guide dog class. The first thing I’d like to say is that life here for the next ten days for me and the other students in residence is structured. We get up at 6 a.m.; meet the instructors for morning obedience practice and other instruction depending on the day. Prior to getting our dogs, we learned about the equipment and practiced with simulated dogs either acted out by the instructors or on a stuffed, life-sized dog. Today, for instance, we got up, met for instruction, then drove to White Plains, took one training walk, half with the instructor being the dog, then an actual dog taking us back to the training lounge. This is called the Juno walk; when the instructors pretend to be the dog and the test drive when the actual dog takes you along a short route. I huffed and puffed up the hill but even though I had to stop twice, it felt great to be moving again.

 

So, tomorrow morning I will know if the dog I met will be my buddy. There could be a change or the dog could be matched with me. I won’t know until Tuesday afternoon. So, come the morning my life will change and a dog will be meeting me. Will it be the wiggly, yellow, male Labrador who walked me up that hill and back to the lounge? Only time will tell.

 

Tuesday Afternoon

Yes, folks, it’s a male yellow Labrador. I can’t reveal his name to promote bonding and until we know for sure the match is a solid one. He is larger than Verona, different as cheese and chalk and that’s totally fine, I wanted that. A dog too similar would confuse me more, lol. Right now he’s lying down at my feet and hasn’t whined for his trainer in at least 20 minutes. This is good. I am growing a fondness for him already.   Our first training walk along a quiet street on campus was great and I can’t wait until my stamina returns and we can walk until our hearts’ content. Verona was so slow, I hadn’t realized I was walking at a snail’s pace until now.

 

Stay tuned for more adventures, when I may possibly reveal Mr. Wiggley’s real name. Until then, woof!