I have one fake eye.

Eye surgeons did all they could to restore my vision when retinopathy set in 35 years ago. One of my eyes is still intact, but the other one shrunk so much from all the surgeries that I can’t hold that eyelid open.

I wear a prosthesis in that eye. Every once in a while it needs a polish, and over these past two years appointments were not possible.

But now they are, so this Monday I’m off to the ocularist.

Way back ten years ago, after my Seeing Eye Dog Harper had to retire early, our friend Chuck Gullett was kind enough to accompany me to my regularly scheduled ocularist visit. Chuck wrote a guest post afterwards, and I reread that post this morning to remind myself what to expect at Monday’s appointment. Know what? That post is so good I’m publishing it here again.

That’s a whole lotta eyeballs right there. (Photo By Chuck Gullett.)

A trip to the ocularist

by Chuck Gullett

Between Harper’s retirement and Whitney’s training, I had the great opportunity to accompany Beth as her “Seeing Eye Chuck” for a visit to the ocularist. The ocularist, as I learned, is the place to go when you need a new glass eye or just a little glass eye maintenance. The ocularist’s office, on the 16th floor of the Garland Building in Chicago, has a spectacular view of Lake Michigan, Millennium Park and Navy Pier. Ironically, the hundreds of eyes in the office are all neatly arranged in drawers and never able to enjoy the view.

On this visit, Beth was going in for a routine cleaning. As an observer, the process is fairly straightforward…

1) Remove glass eye with a device that looks like a miniature Nerf suction cup dart.

2) Try not to make an immature sucking sound as the eye is being removed.

3) Sit back and chat until the eye returns from the onsite laboratory, which I pictured to be somewhat like Grandpa’s lab from the “Munsters.”

When the ocularist returned with the beautifully polished eye, I asked a few questions and Beth talked him into showing me the lab and explaining the cleaning process. What I got was an enthusiastic lesson in the history, making and care of the good ol’ ocular prosthesis, or what we commonly refer to as a glass eye. First off, the eye is not even made of glass. Modern glass eyes are actually made of acrylic, which is extremely durable and more cost effective to manufacture.

The guys in the lab area told me about the heroic GI’s returning from WWII having a large demand for glass eyes. The glass eyes would tend to break by accident or “accidentally” around the time a GI wanted to visit the big city. A shortage in high quality imported glass and the cost of replacement eyes prompted the government to find a better material to make artificial eyes. Now, we have the modern version in durable acrylic.

So, what’s your guess? (Photo By Chuck Gullett)

To give you an idea of how durable the eyes are, Beth has had the same peeper for 25 years and the last time she had it polished was 4 years ago. Each eye is hand crafted for its owner and is a true piece of art. I looked through the drawers of sample eyes and the level of detail is really stunning. The blood vessels are recreated with silk threads while the pupil and iris take laborious hours to hand paint so they look realistic. The ocularist had notes from Beth’s last two visits where they recommended that she get fitted for a new eye, but Beth just smiled and said, “Yeah, I kinda like this one.” I like that one, too. I had no idea that Beth even had a glass eye. One eye is real and one is not. You can try to guess which is which, but good luck.

Anyway, I also learned that the cleaning/ polishing process is much like polishing jewelry. There is a buffing wheel and several different compounds to remove build-up and leave a nice smooth surface. The ocularist works the eye until it is just right, then rinses it off and you are ready to go. I associate the feeling of a freshly polished glass eye like the smoothness your teeth have after a visit to the dentist.

All in all, it was a great afternoon. I got to spend some quality time with a friend, feed my odd curiosity with something out of the ordinary and learn something new.

Bonus: besides being a terrific photographer and friend, Chuck’s also a solid, honest real estate agent. So if you’re in the market…

Our class of 20 blind people is divided into four different groups, each group taught by another certified trainer. My teacher is terrific. After receiving a degree in elementary education at Stephen F. Austin State University in Nacogdoches, Texas, she taught kindergarten. During summers she was hired at summer camps for children who had disabilities. She enjoyed that work so much she returned to Stephen F. Austin State University to get graduate certification in orientation and mobility and, for a while, taught that to people who are blind. She loves dogs, and moving to New Jersey for The Seeing Eye’s three-year apprentice program seemed like a natural next step. Now she’s an instructor here. From the Seeing Eye Web site:

Staff instructors are full-time employees who hold college degrees from various fields of study and have successfully completed three years of specialized on-the-job training. They relate well to dogs and people and are physically fit, since their jobs are physically demanding and involve working outdoors in all weather. Some of our instructors came from teaching, business consulting and rehabilitation fields. Some were in the military and worked with dogs before, and many started out as kennel assistants here at The Seeing Eye.

Another trainer here started out in animal sciences at Rutgers University here in New Jersey. “I wanted to move to Hollywood and train animals,” she told me. “You know, for television and the movies.” That all changed after she got involved with the puppy raising program on campus at Rutgers. She raised two Seeing Eye puppies while she was a student there, eventually becoming president of the club. “I knew your dog Harper when he was a puppy!” she said. “I’m still really good friends with the people who raised him at Rutgers.”

Sometimes Harper thought he was a lap dog.

Each person who volunteers to raise a puppy for the Seeing Eye writes up a little report to let us in on what our dogs lives were like before they were matched with us, so I did know Harper had spent time at Rutgers. I never dreamed I’d meet the president of the club, though! Here’s an excerpt of Harper’s puppy profile:

Harper was attending classes at my university (including attending the graduation!), going on buses and trains, attending other club meetings, university equestrian team shows with 20+ horses, a trip to the airport — going on a plane but not taking off, emergency vehicles, malls, stores, fairs, the beach (his favorite), on a boat, in pools, overnight charity events, elementary school presentations, a retirement/recovery home, soccer, football, and hockey games.

So yes. Harper was a Rutgers grad! An article on the Rutgers University Seeing Eye Puppy Raising Club web site described these generous students who volunteered their time to raise puppies for us.

To truly stop and spend a few moments observing the volunteers of the Rutgers University Seeing Eye Puppy Raising Club, you’re struck too by their obvious affection for and commitment to their charges – cute, adorable puppies with names like Elroy, Yankee, Harper, and Oz.

Did you read that? The article mentioned Harper! Over this past weekend the former Rutgers University Seeing Eye Puppy Raising Club President said she’ll let her friends know she met me. “I’ll try to get their contact info to you.”

Our friends Chris And Larry took Harper in after he retired, and they let me know they’d love to let Harper’s puppy raisers know what their fellow Rutgers grad is up to these days.

I’ll be amazed if that happens. Instructors are wayyy busier than we students are here. When would she find time to locate that contact info? Maybe after class is over. In the meantime, back to Harper’s puppy profile. My favorite part:

He is the coolest dog I’ve ever had. His personality is a great combination of independence and affection.

Amen to that. THANK YOU to all the instructors here who work so, so hard to train dogs to keep us safe and, thereby, build our confidence. And thanks also to the wonderful, generous volunteer puppy raisers out there, including Whitney’s new family in Pennsylvania. You all are our heroes.

Looking forward to hearing the puppy profile for my new dog — my instructor will read it out loud to me late next week, before my 22-month-old female Black Lab guides me down the jetway onto our flight to her new home with Mike and me in Chicago.

Heads up to nearby friends and neighbors: if you see me walking around our Printers Row neighborhood with an invisible dog tomorrow, don’t call the authorities. I haven’t lost my marbles. Not yet.

No need to worry about the stranger you’ll see holding the front of Whitney’s empty rectangular harness and leading me around, either. He’s not a kidnapper. He’s Chris Mattoon, an instructor from the Seeing Eye School. The Seeing Eye sends instructors out to students’ homes before we head off to Morristown, New Jersey to be matched with a new dog. Whitney will get the afternoon off tomorrow while Chris plays her role. He’ll guide me , I’ll hold the back of the harness, and from this exercise, Chris will be able to evaluate how much pull I need/want from my new dog, how fast I like to walk, and if the place I live and work has changed since I was matched with Whitney in 2011.

Seeing Eye instructor Chris Mattoon at home with his own pet dog, Gilda, back in 2011.

Longtime Safe & Sound blog readers might recognize Chris Mattoon’s name: Mike Knezovich wrote a blog post in 2011 when Chris came to Chicago to evaluate my third Seeing Eye dog, Harper, who had to retire early. From Mike’s post:

He also explained that although Harper didn’t start balking right after the near-miss with the car, the stresses on the dogs can be cumulative.

The three of us talked and imagined what swirled around in Harper’s head. In the end, Chris made it clear that city life had just become too much for Harper. Beth would have to get matched with a new partner.

Chris trained Whitney for me after Harper retired, and after eight heroic years guiding me around Chicago, city life has become too much for Whitney now, too.

The Seeing Eye describes the matching process that pairs a Seeing Eye dog with a new owner as “part science, part art, and part magic.” Seeing Eye dogs are all trained to follow the same commands, but I couldn’t just show up at the Seeing Eye, pick up the harness on any dog and expect our partnership to work. It’s not that easy.

The Seeing Eye breeds its own dogs, finds volunteers to raise the pups, and then evaluates the dogs when they are about a year-and-a-half old. Dogs who pass the audition are trained for four months by professional instructors at the school. During the four months training process, Seeing Eye instructors keep notes on the work style of each dog in their string. From a page called The Match on the Seeing Eye web site:

The location where the person lives and works their dog the most is compared against any notes about the dog’s performance in those environments during training. Personality is another important consideration. Just like people, dogs have different energy levels and personalities and it’s important to make sure they match their new owner in a way that’s beneficial to both.

I am scheduled to train with a new Seeing Eye dog in early December, but Seeing Eye staff are aware how eager I am to allow Whitney to retire sooner. They agree she deserves a good long retirement and will contact me if they find a perfect match before the class in December. Not surprised it’s taking them a while. Finding a dog who matches my personality? No easy feat!

It seems like only yesterday: Beth’s Seeing Eye dog Harper saved them both from being run over at an intersection a couple blocks from home. Harper yanked Beth out of harm’s way—so hard that she fell to the pavement and that the sturdy metal harness snapped. It was a harrowing experience, but afterward Beth and Harper went about their business normally.

First there was Dora (she’s the one with the antlers). Photo by Lois Haubold.

Until.

One day Harper stopped cold on the sidewalk in the middle of Chicago’s Loop. Beth cajoled him into getting her home. But things only got worse. Harper would cower and shake, and more than once I had to drive the car to pick them up because he wouldn’t move. After The Seeing Eye had sent four different trainers out to try to remedy the situation, a representative told Beth, “He took a bullet for you, and he’s earned an early retirement.”

Indeed he had. And he’s been living happily ever after with our friends Chris and Larry.

Then there was Hanni.

And we’ve been living happily with Whitney, an intrepid traveler who’s behaved impeccably on planes, trains, and automobiles, sat quietly during plays and concerts, and kept herself and Beth safe in the midst of the chaos of Chicago’s downtown traffic.

These days she walks slower when leading Beth. She sleeps more than she used to. Sometimes she balks at commands and Beth has to out-stubborn her. And, instead of unfailingly and relentlessly retrieving her yellow lacrosse ball for me to throw it again (and again), she retrieves it, lays down on the rug, and shows it to me.

Whitney’s been at it for over seven years, and it’s time. She’s earned her retirement. Beth’s other dogs have worked longer. Dora worked until she was 12. Hanni worked until she was 11. But both of them spent all or part of there tenure in quieter, saner, Champaign-Urbana. Urban life is harder on dogs.

Then the heroic Harper, here hangin’ in his new civilian harness.

Whitney will turn 10 this December, and it’s likely she’ll celebrate it at Beth’s great niece’s house in Minneapolis—Shelley Rae has generously offered to adopt her when she retires.  Beth’s other two retired dogs both lived until 17, so we’re hoping Whitney gets a lot of time just hanging out in the Twin Cities. She’s earned it.

For Beth and me, it’s a very hard conclusion to come to. I fall hopelessly in love with every damned dog Beth brings home from The Seeing Eye, and I miss them when they retire and move away. For Beth, though, it’s a real hardship. She travels to The Seeing Eye in New Jersey sans her longtime companion, and spends three weeks in a dorm after being matched with her new partner.

Besides all the schedule juggling to accommodate the training, it’s just hard work. Beth’s up at 5:00 a.m. every day, and every day is full of training on the streets of Morristown, New Jersey, with side trips to New York City, plus lectures about what’s new since students were there last.

That’s just the start. Once at home, the new dog has to learn the minutiae of Beth’s life. Like finding Beth’s locker at the pool where she swims laps. Getting her to ticket counters and moving up in the line. In and out of cabs, buses, and trains. Turnstiles at the L.

Whitney’s graduation picture. (Courtesy The Seeing Eye.) I wonder who’s next?

For months after coming home, the dog has to be with Beth constantly—that means we go nowhere without the dog. I know some of you envy the ability to bring your dog everywhere. Trust me. You don’t want to trade places with Beth.

Here’s the thing: The person and the dog really do bond as a team. They have to get to know one another. They have to come to implicitly trust one another. Sure, it’s obvious how reliant Beth is on the dog—but the dog trusts the human to get directions correct, to make good decisions.

That trust takes time. Really, the two are in training for months after leaving The Seeing Eye.

And then they settle in. That’s when we find out what each dog is really good at, and what they’re not so good at, over time. Whitney is really good at:

• Finding elevator buttons not just at our building, but everywhere there are elevators.
• Not having to pee or poop for inordinately long periods of time. I’m envious.
• Having an uncanny ability to slow down at just the right time to clue Beth in that there is an irregularity in the pavement that could be trouble. Beth knows to walk accordingly.
• Going down the stairs at the subway. You’d be surprised how hard that is for the dog; ordinarily they’d bound down multiple steps but they have to creep one at a time on their four legs.
• Weaving through crowds without bumping Beth into anyone.
• Being calm in the face of everything that’s been thrown at her.
• Entertaining me with the lacrosse ball.

On the other hand:

• She’s never met a pole she didn’t want to sniff.
• She rarely sees another dog she doesn’t want to meet.

On balance, she has been—like Beth’s other companions—nothing short of wondrous.

But it’s not magic. Breeding, training, hard work (under half the candidate dogs make the cut)—all that before being matched with a person and headed to a new home.

OK, one more. Beth’s great niece Kennedy (aka “Toots”) and Whitney took to one another right away.

Having seen this process up close, I must confess to utter disappointment when people who don’t really need a dog to do basic activities bring their untrained dogs into public spaces. But that’s for another day.

Beth has put in her application at The Seeing Eye. Between now and the end of this year, we expect she’ll be shipping out again, and I’ll be bacheloring it for a few weeks, waiting for Beth to come home with my new favorite.

Just got back last night from Champaign-Urbana, Illinois — Mike drove Whitney and me down there so I could give a presentation to a lecture hall of 400+undergraduates enrolled in an Animal Sciences class at the University of Illinois.

Inspired by the Pick of the Litter documentary Mike posted about on Monday, I spent a fair amount of my talk going over some of the qualifications necessary to become a guide dog instructor.

Warning: Rated XXX for puppy porn.

I mean, Pick of the Litter does a tremendous job explaining how schools decide which puppies pass the audition to go on to train as guide dogs, but what about the audition to become a guide dog trainer?

Most guide dog schools require instructors to have a college degree and then do an apprenticeship, and apprenticeships can last as long as four years – there’s a lot of learning involved when it comes to training dogs, training people who can’t see, and then making a perfect match between the human and canine.

Once apprentices finish their training and become full-time Seeing Eye Instructors, they’re assigned a string (a group) of dogs and given four months to train that string. Throughout the training, instructors pay close attention to each dog’s pace and pull, and they make careful notes about how each dog deals with distractions, what their energy level is, and all sorts of other characteristics. And then? We blind students fly in from all over North America to be matched — and trained — with a new dog.

Seeing Eye instructors have to be as good at evaluating people as they are evaluating dogs. Our instructors review our applications before we arrive on the campus in Morristown and then ask us tons more questions when we get there. Instructors take us on “Juno” walks (they hold the front of the harness to guide us through all sorts of scenarios to get an idea of how fast we like to walk and how strong of a pull we’ll want from our dog). After that, instructors combine all of this information with what they know about their string of dogs, talk it over with fellow instructors and the team supervisor, mix in a little bit of gut instinct, and voila! A match is formed.

Each Seeing Eye instructor trains more dogs than they’ll need for a class. If a dog has a pace, pull, or energy level that doesn’t match with a blind person in the current class, that dog remains on campus with daily walks and care, and perhaps more training, until the next class arrives.

In my talk yesterday, I described each of the four dogs I‘ve been matched with over the past 27 years. My first dog, Dora, was one of those Seeing Eye dogs who went through a second round of training before she was matched with me. Back in 1991, the Seeing Eye knew that the dog they matched me with would be landing in the home of a very unique five-year-old boy named Gus, and that the dog would be in the hands of a woman who had never had a dog before. They must have figured Pandora would need all the extra training she could get!

After Dora came Hanni, the star of my children’s book Safe & Sound, and then Harper, my hero.

And now? Whitney. This Golden/Labrador Retriever cross Whitney is a hard worker who loves to play as much as she loves to work. Her curiosity gets the better of her at times, but she’s just smart enough to try bending the rules without getting in trouble. Sound like a human being you know?!

“Seeing Eye instructors must have known Whitney and I would make a good match,” I said with a shrug to the college kids yesterday. “We see eye to eye.”