Seeing Eye Dog on a Short Leash

It’s only been three days since Mike met Whitney my new dog and me at O’Hare, and in

That’s her!

that short time my new 53-pound bouncing bundle of Labrador Retriever energy has successfully guided me to:

• The Chicago Cultural Center (to prepare for our walk there Wednesday to lead a memoir-writing class)
• Grail Café (for a hot cup of coffee and croissant to celebrate our successful walk to the Cultural Center and back)
• Fifth Third Bank (she uses the small plot in front to empty)
• Half Sour (to take advantage of Thursday afternoon happy hour specials)

Today’s conquest? The pool where I swim laps. There we’ll find out if she’s able to sit quietly at the side of the pool while I swim, or if she needs to stay with staff members at the reception desk while I’m underwater. So far none of our walks have gone without a mistake or two (or five, or nine), and we are still working on our choreography, but we’ve been getting where we need to go, and returning home safely. “Good girl!”

This young 22-month-old Seeing Eye dog has never been to Chicago before, of course, so I am the one who tells her what direction to go to get our errands done. We travel one block, she stops at the curb. “Good girl!” I say, then give her a direction. “Left!” She turns left, I tell her how smart she is, and we proceed to the next curb. “Atta girl, good girl!” I say, then give a direction. “Right!” She turns right, and we’re off again.

This new dog really really loves getting outside and going to work. She is so enthusiastic, though, that sometimes when I command “Forward!” she forgets to stop when we get to the next curb! That’s when I step into my role as teacher. I give her a correction, either verbally or with the leash, then show her where she made her mistake.

Next, I bring her back to the curb, tell her to sit, tap the curb with my foot and praise her. “Good girl! Here’s where you stop. Good girl!” We take a few steps backwards then, maybe two dog lengths, and we re-work the approach to the curb. She almost always, always gets it right the second time. And when she does? I praise the bejeezus out of her. “Good girl, atta girl!” I rub her up. Her tail wags. “Good girl! Good girl!” She eats it up, and she rarely misses that curb again.

Praise is really what it’s all about for Seeing Eye dogs, and to that end, one thing The Seeing Eye urges graduates to do during our first two weeks at home is keep our new dogs attached to us. Literally. 24/7. So picture me now, working at my computer. My dog is chewing her Nylabone, her leash looped around my ankle. Any time I stand up to head to the kitchen to warm up my coffee, she looks up, stops chewing, and drops her beloved bone. “Heel,” I say, and she walks at my side to the microwave. “Good dog!” When we get to the microwave, I give her another command. “Sit!” She sits. “Good girl!” I want her to stay there while the coffee warms up. “Rest,” I say. She does. “Atta girl, good girl!”

Having a dog on leash 24 hours a day is strangely exhausting, and it sure is tedious. Understanding the method behind the 24/7 attachment madness makes it easier to execute: having them at the end of the leash all the time gives us plenty of chances to tell them how great they are. If your Seeing Eye dog sits when you tell them to, you praise them. When they heel, lie down, rest on command, they are praised. On the other hand, if my Seeing Eye dog misbehaves (sniffs inside a garbage can, nibbles at crumbs on the kitchen floor) I can feel her movement through the leash and catch her in the act. We can’t see our Seeing Eye dogs, but if they are only a leash away while they’re being naughty, we can correct them.

All of this transfers to our work outside, too. I praise, and often pet, my dog anytime she stops at a curb, or at the top of the stairs to the subway. If she messes up, I correct her and give her a chance to do it right. And if she succeeds the second time, guess what? She gets praised!

And so, as much as we Seeing Eye graduates would like to think it’s clear sailing after our three weeks training in Morristown, the work continues, and in some ways really starts, once we get home. I’m looking at the months ahead of us as a ten-year investment in my new dog, and in our work as a team. So while having her on leash all the time has been tedious (for both of us!) it’s well worth the investment. These first three days at home have really flown by, and before you know it, it’ll be February 7, our two weeks will be over, and then watch out, world, my new Seeing Eye dog and I will be unleashed (at home, at least)! Right now, though, it’s time to warm my coffee. “Heel. Good girl!”