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.

The dogs work hard even before they meet their human companions. Here, a trainer teaches a dog how to lead around common obstacles.

How’s life at the Seeing Eye, you ask? Here’s an account of our latest day of training:

• • 5:30 a.m. Music comes through intercoms to wake us up. The day before we were matched with our dogs it was Fleetwood Mac’s “Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow.” This morning it was The Cure’s “Friday I’m in Love.”.” Every day, a different song to wake us up.
  • 5:35Dress up warm then out to the courtyard for “park time.” Twenty blind people circle their dogs around them, all  urging our dog to empty. Trainers are with us and call out to let us know when we’ve had success: “#1 for Dilbert!” and Dilbert’s owner whoops it up to encourage him to always go on command. “Harry has a #2!” And his owner squeals with delight. Today was a red letter day, my dog did her #1 AND #2 fairly quickly: once they do both you can have them lead you back into the building (and warmth!) using the “inside!” command.
  • 5:45 Enter room, command your dog to “Go to your place.” Her “place” is her crate, and you leave your dog in her crate while you dish out one-and-a-half cups dry dog food from the tightly-closed bin on the floor near our dormroom door.
  • Zip open crate, say and repeat the word “rest” as you place the dish in front of her. Keep saying “rest” until you stand up, clap your hands and happily call out, “Take it!” Your dog must stay in the crate by the bedpost until you say those magic words. If they go after the food before those magic words, you pick up the food and go through the entire routine again–she can’t have her food until she stays in her place.
  • 5:50 Your dog inhales her food, then you “heel” her to the bathroom (heel as in walk with leash, but no harness), measure out two cups of water, she drinks what she wants, and you empty out any water she didn’t drink. She only gets water when you give it to her, part of the “bonding.” She better follow my commands and keep me safe so that she can have water!
  • 5:57Clean out empty bowls with a little squeegee thing they gave us to do so, put bowls back on their shelf (above toilet) in bathroom.
  • 6:05 a.m.: I don’t know what others do, but I make myself a cup of instant coffee using this groovy collapsible “hot pot” Mike bought me for my birthday last month.
  • 6:15 Check email.
  • 6:30 Shower.
  • 6:45 Call “6368” on desk phone to hear what the menu for today is, check blood sugar and take appropriate insulin to cover breakfast.
  • 6:55 Announcement over intercom “first floor ladies, head down to the dining room” or “men from upstairs, start heading to breakfast.” We all parade down to the dining room, our dogs leading the way.
  • 7:00 Each student has an assigned seat in the dining room, we give dogs a series of commands to go “left” “forward” or “right” to get to our seat and praise them when they achieve their goal.
  • 7:15 Breakfast. The dining room is lovely, white tablecloths and all. Waiters and waitresses come to get our orders so the dogs will know how to act in a restaurant.
  • 8:00 Off in vans to training center in downtown Morristown.
  • 8:15 Today we are practicing our “solo” route. We’ve been practicing a route around Morristown for the past couple days. The route includes T-intersections, four-way stoplights, a two-way stop sign, talking walk signals, left turns, two right turns. Our “solo trip” is Sunday, and during the solo the trainer is still behind us, but quite a distance.
  • Uh-oh. Announcement over intercom just sounded: time to head to the vans to downtown Morristown. It’s not even 8:00 a.m. yet!

Beth is aloft, on her way to The Seeing Eye, and the breed/gender reveal party for her new guide dog should come tomorrow. I’ll be the first to know. I will share the information with the highest bidder. (Just kidding.)

Meantime, I’m going to try to use my solitude at home to catch up on stuff that I’d sort of hoped to do during the holidays.

Usually during these extended absences, in the early days I do bachelor stuff like indulge in Harold’s Fried Chicken or Pat’s Pizza. But coming on the heels of the holidays, I think I need to indulge less, not more, so, I may skip that part.

The Grail is a welcome new neighbor.

Luckily, I have a new choice for more wholesome food—The Grail Café opened across the street from our condo building on January 1. We took special interest in this enterprise on multiple levels. First, every successful business on our little block of Printers Row that is not a nail salon or dry cleaners is a win. Second, because one of the proprietors is Beth’s longtime hair stylist. He and his hubby are the forces behind The Grail. And we always welcome a new place to grab a bite.

We like to support new enterprises (even if they’re not bars), so between us, I think Beth and I have visited The Grail seven or eight times. So far, a big thumbs up. On the first day, they were swamped—not something I or they would’ve expected on New Year’s day. There were some hiccups, but judging from our later visits, things are smoothing out each day. Really high-quality, reasonably priced food.

Best of all, they do coffee. Really, really good coffee and espresso. Which means I will never have to step foot into our local Starbucks again. Not that I have anything against Starbucks, but man, nothing beats a good neighborhood joint.

In general, our little block is doing pretty well, a welcome development that counters the din and dust and construction of architecturally disappointing glass-box apartment buildings that are sprouting all around us.

Sandmeyer’s has weathered big-box bookstores and now, even Amazon, because, well, it’s Sandmeyer’s.

For example, our local wine/spirits shop, Printers Row Wine, has always had a really nice, approachable selection of wine, beer, and liquor, all with down-to-earth advice. Recently, they also got a liquor license and opened a bar and some cozy little tables. It’s a great, quiet place to have a glass of wine or beer, and people watch. Just down the street, a little corner market called Totto’s (pronounced like the Wizard of Oz dog) opened a few months ago. It punches way above its square footage. And though our local bicycle shop closed (boo), a clothing store is replacing it. Our new local—Half Sour—at the old Blackie’s location, appears to be thriving . And two long-time staples, Sandmeyer’s Bookstore and Kasey’s Tavern, are humming along.

A few days ago, our friend asked how Beth and I found Printers Row. I explained that when Beth was in a residential rehab facility in the city after she lost her sight, her sister and brother in law would spring her from her dorm periodically. More than once, they went to Printers Row. Those evenings meant a lot to Beth. The name stuck in my mind.

Years later, when we decided to move to Chicago from Urbana, we did a couple scouting trips to the neighborhood. We struck up conversations with locals. Printers Row had a nice, welcoming feel that was at once vibrant and cozy.

I’m happy to say it still does.

Early tomorrow morning, January 6, 2020, I head to O’Hare for a flight to Newark International Airport. There I’ll meet up with guide dog users from all over North America to catch a ride together to Morristown, New Jersey for three weeks training with our new Seeing Eye dogs. This short post will clue you in on some of the details involved in coordinating24 people who have visual impairments so that we all arrive at Newark International Airport on the same day and at (relatively) the same time.

A few of the 24 of us will be training with their first ever Seeing Eye dogs, but a majority will be like me: people who retired a guide dog recently and are returning to train with a new dog.

Translation: we are not very skilled with our white canes! To help you understand a bit about how this all works, I give you an excerpt of the official itinerary sent to me by the Seeing Eye.

Here is your confirmation for your flight on JANUARY 06, 2020. Please make sure that you arrive at the airport with your Government issued photo ID and go directly to the ticket counter for your boarding pass. We recommend you checking with the airline for the current baggage fee policy. You will be responsible for any baggage fee so packing lightly will be to your advantage.

Upon your arrival at Newark Airport you will be escorted by an airline representative to your baggage claim area, where a Seeing Eye Instructor will meet you and drive you to campus. Airline representatives who provide assistance often have wheelchairs with them, but remember you do not have to ride in a wheelchair unless you want to.

We ask that you turn on your cell phone and use the facilities prior to getting to the baggage carousel. There usually is some waiting time while collecting everyone.

Lori will be sending you a Seeing Eye luggage tag via USPS. Please attach that to your checked bag so it will be easily identifiable by the instructor that meets you.

Wish us luck!

Thank you for all your thoughtful responses to our posts about Whitney’s happy retirement in rural Pennsylvania. Thought you might like a quick update from an email message her new/old family sent yesterday. “Having Whitney is giving me the motivation to take walks again, so that’s been good,” reports Elisse, who walks with Whitney every morning. “She does pull quite a bit, which is mostly ok, except when going downhill…the good news is that my favorite nature walk is relatively flat.”

In other news, Whitney met Alisse’s daughter Kate’s dog Thor this past week. A 16-year-old high school student when Whitney lived with them a decade ago, Kate is now an occupational therapist and a newlywed. When her husband Luke and their dog Thor (a big, well-trained puppy) came for a visit this past week, Elisse says Thor seemed to understand Whitney was an older dog. “Whit’s still spry, but has her limits, although she would play at frisbee until she keeled over, I’m sure. I have to stop and force her to rest. It’s nice to see she still has retained some of her crazy!”

Elisse’s daughter Kate knows a lot about dogs. Recognizing how strong the canine sense of smell is, Kate suggested I bring an old shirt of mine along to leave for Whitney during her transition. “she does sleep with your shirt,” Elisse reported in yesterday’s email. “And sometimes I see her nuzzling it.” Elisse knows a lot about dogs, too, and told me that while dogs do live in the present moment, they won’t ever forget a scent. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be able to keep that shirt before deciding it’s a little too scented, if you know what I mean” she laughed. “For now, I’m sure it’s a comfort for our mutually loved furry canine!”

In other Whitney news: our Safe & Sound blog had a little bug in it before Christmas, and many of you never received a post I’d written about Whitney’s very last school visit as a Seeing Eye dog. So here it is, with all good wishes for a happy and healthy 2020 — I look forward to future school visits this year with new guide Speedo, or whoever my next Seeing Eye dog is!

Questions Kids Ask: Are You Older Than Whitney in Dog Years?

December 12, 2019

I was busy shoving Whitney’s water dish and extra leash and a Braille copy of Safe & Sound into my backpack Wednesday morning when it dawned on me. The presentations we’d be doing at Ravinia and Braeside schools in Highland Park that afternoon would mark Whitney’s final school visits as a working Seeing Eye dog.

Whitney’s always known how to charm kids. (photo by Jamie Ceaser)

Do third-graders even know what the word “retirement” means? Should I tell the kids its Whitney’s last visit? That Whitney’s moving away? Could eight and nine-year olds possibly understand?

Whitney and I have visited dozens of classrooms this past year as part of the Educating Outside the Lines disability awareness program, and the thoughtful, caring questions third-graders came up with during the Q&A wowed me every time.

When we arrived, I ran the idea by their teachers. Would it be okay to forego most of the blindness stuff? Focus my talk on Whitney’s upcoming move instead? “Sure!” they shrugged. “If they want to know more about you being blind, they’ll ask about that, too.” The teachers were right, of course. This sampling of questions the kids asked tells all:

• How did you get blind?
• Why do you want Whitney to go to another person?
• At the beginning of your talk you said all of Whitney’s brothers and sisters have names that start with ‘W’, so do all the dogs who start with ’W’ live in one house, and dogs that start with ‘B’ or another letter live in another house, and like that?
• Is Whitney gonna have babies?
• If you can’t see where you’re going, and there’s like, a wall in front of you, how does your dog tell you it’s there?
• After Whitney retires, are you looking for a certain type of dog?
• Do you have kids?
• If the dogs are just puppies, how do the people at their school know that they can be trained?
• How many years have you had a dog that helped you?
• Do you really want Whitney to go to another person?
• How long does it take to train a dog?
• What will you do in-between the time you give up your dog and you get a new one?
• What are the books that you wrote?
• What if your new dog isn’t a good match, do you have to go back to school again?
• What happens if a person is blind and they’re allergic to dogs?
• So if dogs are color blind, is everything in black & white?
• Are you older than Whitney in dog years?
• How do you get on the plane to get your new dog if you don’t have Whitney to help you anymore?

That’s just it, I told the boy who asked that last question, admitting that I try not to think about it. “It’s going to be hard, but eyebrows up! She’s still here now!”

And with that, I thanked the kids for having us, and when I stood up, the beautiful ten-year-old Golden Retriever/Yellow Labrador Cross at my feet jumped up, shook herself off and stood patiently at my side. I lifted Whitney’s harness handle then, commanded, “Whitney, outside!” and dozens of eight and nine-year olds, all of them sitting criss-cross applesauce on the classroom floor, laughed and cheered as Whitney threaded me through them and out the door.

Whitney finished her final school visit on a high note, as did those third-graders. They wowed me again.