Last Wednesday Hanni led me to the Union League Club of Chicago to meet with the Barrington Bliss Book Club. Well, I say she led me there, but to be honest, when I asked her to turn at the front door she sped right by. The Union League Club is a swanky private club right in the heart of Chicago’s downtown financial district. Members meet there to “socialize and enjoy fine food and impeccable service.” No wonder Hanni raced passed the front door – she couldn’t believe we’d been invited!
When I felt we’d gone too far, I turned Hanni around and pointed in the general direction of the entryway. I could tell from the reluctant pull of the harness that she still wasn’t so sure.
We were at the right place,though. Some members of the Barrington Bliss Book Club are also members of the Union League Club, and they were kind enough to invite Hanni and me to join them as a guest author. The club had read “Long Time, No See.” We talked about how I decided to write that first book of mine and what all has happened to me since University of Illinois Press published it in 2003. Of course I managed to get a plug in for “Hanni and Beth: Safe & sound” as well! I passed the advance copy around, everyone ooed and ahhed appropriately at the illustrations. You can oo and ah now, too – a friend has attached the book’s cover design to my blog. (As you might imagine, visual decorations like that are not my forte!)
Back to Barrington Bliss Book Club: I met some wonderful women and time seemed to fly by. “Where’s Hanni?” some book club members asked when it was time for us all to leave. I pointed under the table – Hanni had curled up and fallen asleep down there. She was so quiet and still, they hadn’t realized she was with me!
BUT THANK GOD SHE WAS.
When we left the Union League Club and headed east on Jackson, we approached a side street. Hanni stopped, of course. Traffic was rushing by at our parallel, cuing me that it was safe to cross. “Forward!” I commanded. Hanni looked both ways, and judging it safe, she pulled me forward.
But then all of a sudden she jumped back. I followed her lead and heard the rush of a car literally inches in front of us. Hanni had seen the car turning right off the busy street. I hadn’t.
She saved my life.
I felt someone rush by us, then heard shouting down the side street. My heart was racing, but training at the Seeing Eye told me what to do next. “Walk backwards! Get on the sidewalk before you praise her!” I heard my trainer from years ago calling out in my head. We had practiced this very thing during training – staff members would drive Seeing Eye vans around town while we were out with our dogs, the van drivers would make quick turns and dart in front of us on purpose so we would feel how the dogs reacted.
Back on the sidewalk, I got on all fours to hug Hanni. I was afraid from what had happened, of course. But even more, I was afraid that the near miss could scare Hanni from wanting to work again. I pet Hanni. I hugged her. I reassured her. People who’d seen what happened called out from across the street to make sure I was okay. I called out a “yes!” and just then a man bent down and patted me ever so slightly on the shoulder. “You alright, miss?” he asked. He was out of breath, panting. “I work at the Union League Club, I saw the whole thing.” It was a cab that had sped around the corner, he explained. The driver hadn’t even slowed down to make the turn.
We stood up; I patted down my skirt and tried to regain my composure. Suddenly I realized. The sweet man panting beside me, worrying if Hanni and I were alright — he was the one I’d felt rush past while I was reassuring Hanni. “Was that you shouting?” I asked.
“Yeah, I was trying to catch him,” the doorman said. “Sure you’re alright?” He asked.
This kind of caring, coming from a complete stranger, made me feel better. I was sure, I told him. Hanni was alright, too. She stopped at every curb after that, and we proceeded with caution. But as always, we made it home. Safe & Sound.

I have a part-time job moderating the autism blog at Easter Seals. Every Friday I meet with my supervisor for a “weekly download,” i.e., we go over what happened the previous week.
For our last download of the summer we decided to do something special – meet at Jake’s Pub, one of my boss’ favorite bars in Chicago. I fed Hanni in the bathroom at work before we left. Her dog bowl wasn’t under the sink where I’d left it, so we went into a stall and I just spilled her bag of dog food on to the floor. It seemed to take her FOREVER to finish. “C’mon, Hanni! C’mon, hurry up!” I urged her on. I wanted her to finish before someone came in and caught her licking the bathroom floor.
We do have some pride, after all.
Hani finally finished her food, we went downstairs, piled into a cab and headed to Jake’s. One drink led to another. I started getting hungry. Reaching down into my bag, I pulled out a pouch full of almonds, set them on the bar and started to munch. .
Ugh! Yuck! Spit out! Ugh!
IT WAS DOG FOOD.
No wonder it had taken Hanni so long to eat her dinner in the bathroom stall – I’d given her a pouch full of almonds instead of dog food!
I think Hanni got 100% of her daily Vitamin E requirement that day.
As for me, I really impressed my boss. She’d never seen ANYONE eat dog food at Jake’s
Pub before.

   Hello to fans of Hanni the Seeing Eye dog.  My name is Beth Finke, and I plan to dogblog as we embark, pardon the pun, on our book tour for Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound.