Guide Dog Chronicles: Anticipation

Guide Dog Chronicles
Anticipation – Again
By Kate Chamberlin
“What can the dog do that you can’t do now?” A lady at church asked me.
Where should I begin? How can I explain that it isn’t just a matter of increased independent mobility to go for the mail or even the bathroom, to be able to safely return to volunteer tutoring and mentoring in the elementary school, as well as go for healing walks? a dog can break the downward spiral of depression, isolation and obesity. A dog can be the constant, uncritical companion. She’s there for you when you can’t reach out. She supplies a person’s need to be needed and sense of responsibility.
At times, being totally blind is over-whelming and quite intimidating. It requires a push to re-open doors, restore confidence and bring new love into a person’s life.
On March 19, I will begin home training with

a guide dog from the Upstate Guide Dog Association (UGDA). I feel anxious about being able to commit to another dog. My high expectations from my very successful eight years with my first dog trained at Guiding Eyes for the Blind (GEB), Future Grace, a 60-pound Golden Retriever are tempered by my recent emotionally devastating mismatch with my fourth GEB dog Joey, an 85-pound Black Lab. I know my new UGDA guide dog will be a smaller female, about two years old and either a Yellow or Black Lab, but I won’t know her name until we actually start training. You can bet your bippy her middle name will be Grace.
The really neat part about home training with a guide dog is that my husband will go on several walks with us and the trainer will coach him on when to speak up and when to shut up, which will bode well for the future of our marriage!
I am grateful to the many wonderful folks who have offered
me their elbow and escorted me to and fro during the past fourteen months, but there is nothing like picking up that harness and doing it myself.
When the official fourteen days of home training are over, it will take another three to six months of working together to become a true team. I still need your help. Don’t be shy about telling me if you’re holding the door open, or if we’re approaching stairs, or letting me know what is on my right or left.
Please remember that when my guide dog is wearing her harness, she is on duty and may not socialize with you. My safety depends on your not distracting her by talking, petting or feeding her even though she may give you that dole-full, pleading look.
We’re both concentrating on getting from here to there in

one piece, but if you speak up saying, “Hi, Kate.” and then your
own name, we’d love to stop for a chat.
(NOTE: A version of this essay first appeared in my weekly column: Cornucopia, 03/17/2004 Wayne County STAR Newspaper. UGDA is no longer in business.)