Deafblind Awareness Week

This week is Deafblind Awareness week. But for me, and for the many people I meet every day, it is always Deafblind Awareness week/day/moment. I sometimes feel like my life is a lesson in awareness.

It has its good sides. I would hope to think that when people see me in public, doing regular things like shopping or having coffee that they will one day, just think of me as a regular person who happens to be unable to hear or see. Everyone has things that they cannot do, some are more obvious than others. I would hope, through mine, and others actions that we can show that people who are Deafblind can work, go to school, have families, and all of that.

But sometimes, sometimes I just want to be unremarkable. I wish people weren't so "aware." Of my braille, my dog, my ASL, my difference. I sometimes wish that I could spend time in public without some curious person asking me questions, invading my space, or making stupid inane remarks like "I think sign language is so beautiful! I love watching people sign."

I know they mean well. I know that when people think of Deafblindness, they think of Helen Keller and Annie Sullivan, and how does their life-- lived almost one hundred years ago-- fit into our world today? People want to know things. How do I cook, or schedule doctor's appointments, or cross roads. They want to watch me texting or reading braille, or chatting with friends in ASL, not because they are mean, but because it is new and different and "interesting." In this day and age, our society thinks that they have the right to learn and know anything about anybody. Look at all of those reality television shows, the blogs and the twenty-four-hour news coverage. We are a nosey society who believe that we have the right to ask-- to know-- and that privacy is not meant for those who have lives which are different from the norm.

I try, in my personal life, in my work, and in my community efforts, to educate, to advocate, and to continue to grow as a person. But sometimes being aware of deafblindness means being aware that your attention, your questions, your comments, aren't always welcome. If a person wants to know how a Deafblind individual crosses a road, they can look it up on Google. Which isn't nearly as interesting as asking me directly and watching my conversation partner interpret their words into my hands. But if it's truly information being sought, there are a wealth of resources out there. There are even Youtube videos of tactile ASL. Use these resources and educate yourself if you are so inclined.

I don't mean to come off as a grouchy curmudgeon. But if I could make people "aware" of just one thing, it is that I'm a regular person, just like someone who is sighted or hearing. That I'm out in the big world, trying to live my life as best as I can, and that I'm not some kind of carnival freak show exhibit to be stared at, or remarked upon. Be aware, use consideration, think!

The Last Part

I'm home, actually and truly home. The last train ride lasted about 23 hours, and the train was late pulling into the station in Charlottesville, of course.

Then I didn't have a seat on the train until around Midnight so sat in the observation car doing some email checking and observating, and stuff.

Around 4 am, a person or people came on with a screaming infant. I took my hearing aid out and was very thankfully oblivious. Because if there is one noise which turns me into a quivering ball of hysterical, babbling insanity, it is the sound of babies screaming. This is why I do not have human children. I took out my hearing aid and it was quiet and lovely. Apparently the kid screamed basically non-stop for four hours. I read, and did word searches, and twittered and basically smugly laughed at everyone else who had to suffer. Because I'm mean!

Laveau knew we were going home so she refused to pee, and was very determined to save it all up for a big pee festival in the yard. Which is what she did.

But I should go back and talk about my time in Charlottesville.

I went to my first chicken swap. This was a thing where people pulled up to a tractor store in Culpepper, VA. and tried to buy, or sell, or trade their chickens. Oh and a turkey; I can't forget the turkey. I had never actually touched a live turkey, so the owner let me touch him. He was very large and feathery and I could kind of hear this weird loud noise which was him making that gobble noise. Laveau spent the time in
<"Andrea's">
SUV with Sid her SDIT. Sid actually hopped into the driver's seat and was trying to grow himself opposable thumbs while searching for the keys. Laveau stayed in back with her head out the window, keeping a look out for people who would catch on to their plan. She only confessed the entire thing to me after we left.

The two dogs, and Andrea and myself went into the tractor supply store, because I'd never been in one and being a city girl I wanted to be able to say that I went into one. I also wanted to buy a present for the dogs. Laveau was sniffy and a pain in my ass and we had to have a conversation about sniffage.

I bought Bristol a chicken made of this rubber stuff. He apparently has a very loud squeaker and I can sort of hear it if my hearing aid is in. I think Bristol can hear it. We have named the chicken Fricassee.

We eventually packed up and went back to Andrea's house where Laveau barked at the cats and stared rudely at them. We don't, and never will have, cats so her exposure to them has been limited to outside distractions. So she was very weirded out that cats actually live inside, in people's houses, and that these cats-- namely Braxton the Enforcer and Roo, weren't afraid of her and that in the case of Roo, climbed on me and I let them.
To get even with me about the cats, she rolled in the pool, then in the dirt, thereby covering herself in mud. Andrea very sweetly groomed her for me so she looked like a sort of respectable service dog on the train.

The night before the chicken swap I stayed with
<"Christine">
Who was a fantastic sport about hosting a strange lady and her strange black dog in her house. Christine also has a cat, Cairo, and what's more, Cairo knew that he weirded out Laveau; so his mission was to get her to snuggle with him. Laveau refused and would bark at him, get off of the bed or where ever Cairo was, and stomp away to lay across the room grumbling, and giving him that Doberman eyeball. Cairo went after her. She didn't know what to do with this thing which walked like a dog but which was not a dog. Christine also had German Shepherds and Laveau did know what to do with them-- play. In the pool, in the grass, in the house, and where ever. She played herself stupid with Sid and with other GSDs which explains why she slept like a dead thing on the way home and why she's been fairly lazy today.

It's kind of exasperating that the only people who have the dogs which can tire out Laveau live clear the hell in Virginia!

We got home last night and Mister Pawpower had bathed Mill'E-Max and Bristol so they were all soft and cuddly. Well Mill'E-Max was refusing to cuddle for a while because I went and left her, and she is not so forgiving as all that. But she helped unpack the suitcase and that went a long way to making her feel better.

Today I did not go to work because I didn't get to sleep until like, I don't know the butt-crack of the middle of the night last night.

Today I did laundry, and hung clothes out on the line. Then it rained because the universe likes flipping me off.
We took the pack on a walk because we are on a serious mission to strengthen Bristol's hind end. She seems to be doing great on the every-other day schedule of Previcox so we'll leave it at that for now.

Tomorrow I need to actually work and not lay around. Wednesday I have to actually go back to my grown-up job. Le Sigh!

Tonight, I'm going to try and recreate Skyline Chili which is a very yummy and unique kind of Chili I had when I was in Cinci with Jen. We are even having garlic bread with it because I'm on a bunch of steroids from the shrimp thing and OHMYGODIWANTCARBSNOW!
So... I'm off to do kitchen bitchery stuff with my Kitchen Bitches!

Life's Little Detours

So... life has this funny way of happening, y'know?

I left the AADB conference Thursday afternoon headed to Cincinnati to visit my friend Jen and her guide dog Nora. We spent a lovely evening together, eating Skyline Chili, and Ice-cream, and playing with dogs. I hopped on my train out of cinci at a bit after 3 am.

Our train was delayed coming into Charlottesville, VA. Instead of arriving at 2:45 I arrived around 4.
Andrea from
<"The Manor of Mixed Blessings">
fetched me from the station and we went to her friend's house for dog snuggling, and barbecuing. Laveau had a blast meeting all of the new dogs. She has decided that Andrea's SDIT, Sid is her new loooooooove!
We called Amtrak and they said my train was late and would leave by 9:15. Since all of my trains have been late, this wasn't surprising to me.
So we sat around, ate and drank, and threw the ball for the dogs.
Then we harnessed up the pups and drove to the station in time for the 9:15 train, only to find that it had left ten minutes earlier.
Soooooo.......
I'm kinda stuck in Charlottesville until I can get a train out of here. Dunno when that will be, exactly. I'm so punchy right now that I'm not too worried about it ... yet...

Laveau is having a blast, I am curled up in bed with Cairo the Cat and some lemon cookies.
I will update as things progress.

End of Week Updatage

Today was my last full day at AADB. Wow! How time has just flown by so quickly.
This morning I tested a prototype of a braille captioned radio. It was amazing!!! I mean totally amazing.

It was a braille display hooked to a small digital radio via a USB cable. The first three cells of the displays were used for things like to change the channel, to modify settings, and to check for emergency alerts. I read some radio stories, navigated throughout the menu system and was shown an alert and how the system responds when there is an alert. It was amazing, but I think I've already said that! Deafblind people who are braille readers have not had access to this type of emergency alert information in the past.

The radio works with NPR stations. When I was hearing, I loved NPR! I was a huge fan of shows like This American Life, A Prairie Home Companion, and All things Considered-- not to mention Car Talk. All of this program will be available to me using a captioned radio once the finishing touches have been put on the product. I signed up to be a tester for the first radios that come out so I can see radio shows every week and test how the system functions. The entire experience was amazing! I cannot wait to be able to have a captioned radio. It will work with any braille display and a digital radio with USB. So I can use either my Apex or my Sync Braille to run it. Digital radios come in very small sizes so it is very possible for a Deafblind person to take their radio with them and have access to the radio when traveling. This is just fantastic.

I bought pizza for my SSPs this afternoon and we had a pizza party in my room. Then I went to the AADB business meeting but didn't stay long. I had a nap, then went to dinner with a friend.
However I was chatting with someone who had eaten something which had been cooked in the same oil as shell fish. So I had to leave and go take meds. Thankfully I recovered quickly. I got to meet a student who is currently attending HKNC, and that was interesting.

Tomorrow I am checking out of the hotel, attending the AADB awards lunch, going to an update by a man who works for the FCC, and then I'm leaving the convention.

A friend of mine lives in Cincinnati and I haven't seen her in forever so we will spend time catching up, and I'll hop on the train at 3 am on Friday. Tonight is my last sleep in a real bed until I come home to my pack in New Orleans.

I will update perhaps from the road!

Chicago Pictures

are up
<"HERE!">

Thanks to my friend Nahrain for being such a fantastic photographer!

The first half of the week

I realized that I haven't updated since Sunday, but my arms are so sore from all of the tactile ASL, that typing is not on my list of "must do's." However, I want to write this all down before I forget. So where I left off...

Monday morning, my SSP and I went to breakfast. While we were eating, my SSP got a call that a family member was dying so she needed to leave abruptly. I was then matched with three new SSPs.
I went to a workshop on accessible braille e-books. The presenter talked about Bookshare.org, National Braille Press, and the National Library Service's Web Braille program. After that workshop, we went to lunch.

After lunch, it was time to take a tour of the exhibit hall. This is a big ball room full of vendors from various companies selling everything from Braille PDAs, to jewelry, to portable VRS units. I made it about half way around the room before getting stuck at the table for the Helen Keller National Center for Deafblind Youth and Adults (HKNC). The lady at that table had never seen an iPhone before paired with a Braille Note Apex. I took out my iPhone and braille note and several people gathered to watch. The lady from HKNC took videos of my demonstration. I tried to not sound like an idiot. I had left Laveau in the room because I was worried that the hall would be crowded, so after my demo, I went back to get her.

By this point I really needed to get out of this hotel. My SSPs and I walked to Oriental Wok for dinner and I had yummy fried rice and veggie spring roll! We had fun chatting and eating. After that I went to bed.

This morning I went to a three-hour long workshop on various types of assistive technology for Deafblind people. Topics covered included screen readers for both Mac and PC, various screen enlargement solutions for DB people who are low vision, and braille displays. In the second half of the workshop, they talked about various mobile options for DB people including Deafblind Communicator (DBC), made by Human Ware, iPhone, iPad, and Windows Mobile Phones running Mobile Speak. We also learned about stand-alone money identifiers, and color identifiers.

After that long workshop my arms felt like they'd fall off from all of the tactile interpreting. My SSPs and I went to lunch at another restaurant outside the hotel-- this time Mexican. I had nachos and they were delicious.

I came back and had a nap before going back to the exhibit hall, and then to dinner. Geez, this blog makes it seem like all I do is eat and look at technology. lol!
After dinner which was a huge salad, I went to the grocery right quick for more iced tea. Then we came back and went to a pool party where I chatted with some people and swam.

Now it is bed time. Tomorrow I'm testing out a new braille captioned radio from NPR. I'm very excited as when I was hearing, I loved NPR and I really miss listening to it. After the NPR thing, I'm going to the technology lab because many of the devices discussed in today's workshops are at the lab. There are some new braille displays I have yet to see, and I must remedy this-- big geek that I am!
After that is a general meeting of the delegates from AADB in the afternoon. Tomorrow is my last full day here at AADB as Thursday I'm leaving in the afternoon to meet a friend from Cincinnati, and then my train leaves around 3 am on Friday morning.

I am really having a blast so far!

The Journey Begins

I made it to Kentucky in one piece, mostly.

Friday afternoon, Laveau and I hopped aboard the train. We had a sleeper car on that leg of the trip and immediately we met two ladies in the sleeper across from ours. We spent the evening with them and their two grown children. We ate dinner, and spent time in the observation car.

I tried to get some sleep but sleeping on a train brings a whole new meaning to the phrase "tossing and turning." Laveau slept on the foot of the bed, where she could look out the window. She immediately fell asleep while I lay there listening to old Golden Girls shows on my iPod. Eventually I was asleep, and then the train went down what felt like, a very steep hill. The feeling of tilting at such an angle woke me up, and awake I stayed.

The train was an hour late arriving into Union Station in Chicago. I got off the train, and was immediately greeted by my two SSPs for the day, Colleen and Maggie. We first found a locker for storing my luggage for the day. By then we were joined by a friend of mine who is also DB and who lives in Chicago. We took Laveau to pee, and she actually went!
We walked to a local pizza place for lunch, where were joined by yet another friend of mine and her guide dog.

I was having quite a bit of vertigo; I could still feel the train moving beneath my feet! I was pretty nauseated so took meds, and they kicked in just in time for me to eat a huge slice of Chicago style veggie pizza. It was really good. We spent time just chatting, and eventually decided to go see the Bean statue in Chicago's Millennium Park.

The Bean is a giant (and I mean huge) bean-shaped statue covered in reflective metal. I was able to see it once I stood in a place where the Bean blocked the sun. It was amazing. My friend took tons of pictures.

Then we went to a fountain near by. You can sit on a dock thing, and put your feet in the water. I took off Laveau's harness and let her jump into the water. She loved it, but we got busted by the park security because dogs aren't allowed in the water, even if on leash. So poor Laveau had to get out, but she was very happy to be wet and a bit cooler.

We put our shoes back on, then went to yet another fountain. This one was a giant wall of water, coming down from above. Like a giant shower (a very cold shower). I took off my backpack, and my hearing aid, and went with one of my SSPs and Laveau into the heart of the fountain. Like I said; it was cold! I was soaked! Laveau was pretty wet herself. It made me glad she wears a nylon harness!

After we got out of the fountain, we took the El train back to Union Station because it was time for me to continue my trip to Kentucky.

My time in Chicago was wonderful. Both Laveau and myself enjoyed it so much. I met another DB person on the train. We road together and spent time chatting. It was nice to have someone to talk to. Laveau slept like a rock!

The train was delayed a few times, so we arrived in Cincinnati about two ours passed our original arrival time. We found a number for a cab, but they wouldn't accept relay calls. The person I rode with found another cab number, and they sent a driver.

Who was an idiot and tried to deny me access to his cab with Laveau. By this point I hadn't slept in over 24 hours, I had traveled for a day and a half and I was not going to be left at the train station by some jackass who does not know the law. I tried explaining about the dog, and the law. This guy was from here, so he had no excuse not to know the law or not to understand me. Here is our conversation:
Me: "You have to take her, she's a service dog. Do you know what a service dog is?"
Driver: "No."
Me: "Do you know what a guide dog is?"
Driver: "No."
Me: "Do you know what a Seeing Eye dog is?"
Driver: "uh..... uh... I think... I think I've heard of one before."
Me: "Ok, she's a seeing eye dog. You have to take her."
Driver: "It's against the law to have dogs in the cab."
Me: *internally swearing*
Me: "You are violating federal law by denying us access. It is against the law for you not to provide me access to your cab with my service dog." Driver: "Are you blind?"
Me: "Yes!!!!!!!!"
Driver: "Is that a Looker Dog?"
Me: "Yes!! She is a looker dog!"
Me: *thinking to self... "looker dog???"*
Driver: "Well why didn't you say that! I can take looker dogs in my cab."

So I didn't have to kill him and take his keys after all! We hopped in the car and drove to the hotel. By then I was exhausted so I quickly checked in and went to bed with my looker dog.

Just a side note, I thought, being from New Orleans, Laveau would be a Liquor Dog; not a Looker Dog. And to think, for all these years, I've been blaming her for drinking all of the brandy in the keg she was supposed to be carrying around her neck. It's not because she's a lush that she doesn't have brandy, it's because she's a Looker Dog, not a Liquor dog!!

This morning I woke up, farted around on the internet for a while, then went and got my registration packet. I met an SSP from Ohio who took me in his car to get food for Laveau. I needed a refrigerator in my room because my growth hormone needs to stay cold, so there was plenty of room in there for Laveau's food. However I forgot we're not in New Orleans any more, and they didn't have things like turkey necks and pig feet! So she's having ground turkey and beef.
After we got back from the store, I took a nap because I was still so tired.

Then I went to the AADB opening ceremonies which were wonderful.

This hotel is like a maze. I keep getting lost. Tomorrow I have workshops and the exhibit hall. I'm meeting my SSP for breakfast at eight am.

I think I'm going to crawl into bed and get some shut eye. Tomorrow is going to be a long day!
It is great to be here at AADB!

The Pawpower Pack is Packing

I'm starting to pack for my trip. Tomorrow, I get on a train to go to the
<"AADB Symposium">

I am taking the train and for some reason, known only to the higher-powers at good ole Amtrak, I have to go from New Orleans, to Chicago, then back to Kentucky. Yes, I kind of boggled over it for a while but decided to Carpe Shar-Pei (seize the wrinkled dog) and make the best of it. I wrote to a lady who works at the Lighthouse for the blind in Chicago who is, herself, Deafblind. She teaches a class about working the deafblind people. Two of her students will be my SSP for my 8-ish hours in Chicago. This is so fantastic and generous, and makes the entire experience so much easier.

I am also meeting friends in Chicagoland for pizza, some walking around and perhaps (if it doesn't rain), the beach!

I arrive in Kentucky on Sunday morning and stay there until Friday. On my return trip, I have a layover in Charlottesville Virginia where I will get to meet the krew from

<"The Manor of Mixed Blessings">
I have known them online for a few years now and I can't wait to meet the entire gang! I want to pet all of the dogs and see if Laveau or Sid can get to the ball first. We shall, most likely, go to dinner at a restaurant, and terrorize people with our big, scary black hounds.

But before I can get to all of the pizza-eating, beach-going, symposium-attending, and dog-groping I must pack. This is a chore which will test my patience to its limit. Because you see, dearest reader, my dogs brains fall out the moment I remove the suitcase from hiding. They know that the suitcase means travel, and all of the dogs are just sure I will come to a bad end if I do not take them to travel with me.

Usually it goes something like this:
*take out suitcase*
Laveau: "Ohhhh! We go! I will lay in the suitcase so she will have to take me with her!"
Gracy: "I will take the suitcase and hide it because I don't want to go anywhere, and I do not want her to go anywhere, and why can't we all just go out into the yard and kill small rodents!"
Mill'E-Max: "Oh! we're going! Do you need to pack? I'll help you pack! Here, do you need this shirt? What do you mean no, that it's dirty and put it back in the hamper. You are wrong and I will pack it in the suitcase for you. What are your slippers doing in the suitcase? You don't need them in there. Here, I will take them out for you once Laveau gets up from on top of them. Oh look, you are packing treats! Can I have treats? No? Will you give me treats if I bring you my water dish and put it in the suitcase? You will need the water dish if we are going to go on vacation. If you can't take the other dogs, you can just take me because I'm the smartest and most helpful and you will regret it and be sad if you do not take me, and I don't want you to be sad, so take me!"
Bristol: "I love you! I really, really love you. See how closely I'm sticking to your leg? This is so you can't leave me behind. Think of how lonely you will be if you leave me behind. And guilty... you will feel guilty because I was a Jewish mother in my past life and know how to lay on the guilt. You should take me, because if you don't, you will break my heart and that will be on your conscience forever. We wouldn't want that, would we?"
See? It's kind of a mad house once the suitcase comes out.
So I've been putting it off for as long as possible. Today, I found out that I won a new suitcase at an employee appreciation lunch at work. I wasn't actually at the lunch because they were serving shrimp and seeing as how shrimp makes my throat close; I thought it most advisable to stay away. But I won a new suitcase, and my boss is bringing it over shortly, and then it will start, and I don't know if I'll make it to the train without extra weight from a stowaway, or three, in my luggage!

Bristol Update

This morning Brissy seemed a bit better but I took her in anyway. Her hind end is pretty weak; this isn't new. However she's not putting weight at all on her right hind leg, using her left hind leg to compensate. Her hip joints have a lot of bone on bone rubbing, and her muscles are wasting in that area.
My vet put her on Previcox, which is a Cox II inhibiter. And before someone comments with the laundry list of evils caused by these drugs, just do me a favor and save your breath because there is nothing anyone can say that I haven't said to myself. Right now it's about her quality of life. She can't continue living like this-- I won't let her. If these drugs which make her more comfortable do cause other problems, we'll deal with it. But getting the pain and inflammation under control is the most important thing. I have fought like a devil to keep her off of these drugs, and my vet said that most dogs start them when they are around 10. To be a 13 year old dog and needing to finally take them is good; it means she's been doing well. It's what I have to do for her and if they make her hurt less I will gladly give them to her.

I know she's old, I know she probably doesn't have years left. I know that by all rights she shouldn't even be alive after everything she's been through. But she is, and I want to make her last time here as comfortable as I can.

This is so, so hard. I would take the pain myself if I could, I would give her years off of my own life if it would make her body whole again. I will do whatever it takes to keep her comfortable and happy. When I can't do that any more, or if she wants to go, I will then make the choice to end her suffering.

She is still so full of life and vitality. She is interested in meeting everyone around her, in walks and food, and playing. She isn't ready to leave just yet.
This is the dog who has been my emotional loadstar for the last twelve years. This is the dog who has put her 40 pound body between me and an on-coming vehicle more times than I can count. This is the dog who went to college with me, moved across the country with me, traveled many unfamiliar roads with me. She walked me down the aisle when I was married. She walked me to my first job as a grown-up. She was there in the dark of the night when my fears and worries got the best of me. She was there when I lost my house, my city, everything I owned, and later my hearing. I still was rich beyond measure because I had her.

And I can't do anything for her but give her pills and make her comfortable. I can only take her out to the dog park, and to the snowball stand on her good days. I can only put her on my bed, in the coolest spot, and sit beside her on her bad days. I can give her release when it's time. It seems like I got the better end of the deal in this relationship.

If the meds don't work, then all bets are off and we won't have much time at all. I can only hold her, tell her I love her, and hope that the universe grants us just a little bit longer together.

Bristol

This evening Bristol stopped being able to climb up and down steps independently. She can do "down" better than "up" which she can't do at all. She is walking slowly but fine, still interested in food and what's going on around her.
I'm taking off work tomorrow morning to run her into the vets. I'm trying not to think the worst but not doing well at that.
Please send her prayers/good juju/happy thoughts.
Thanks

The Swampy State of the Pack

What a weekend it has been. The pre-trip insanity has already started, and add to that a healthy dose of technology malfunction and I've got a lot of balls in the air.

Not only that, my Vet and I had a conversation on Saturday about the medication Laveau is currently taking to control her spay incontinence. This medication is having some undesirable side-effects, and also has some very scary risks associated with it. I'm currently weaning her down off of the med and when I return from my trip, I will begin to try other methods of controlling this issue. Karyn over at
<"Through Guide's Eyes">
Has been helpful in brainstorming with me about possible alternatives. Although I'm glad to know about these problems, and feel a pressing urgency to find alternatives to correct them, it's an additional stress on top of an already stressful load.

I'm very much looking forward to my trip to the AADB symposium in Kentucky and hope that it is a fun, and relaxing time for both Laveau and myself. I am going to try to blog while on the road, and look forward to many adventures.

In other (and hopefully happier) news, Mister Pawpower has decided that he'd like to begin the search for his next assistance dog candidate. He is hoping for a puppy between 4-6 months old. He'd really like a Doberman or a Chesapeake Bay Retriever. He's keeping his options open and has contacted some breeders. It is not a time sensitive thing, and it's better to take his time and choose a candidate he feels will succeed, rather than rush in and pick the first dog offered. I, myself, always hate this part of the owner training process. Give me a dog of sound body and temperament and I can train it. It's the selecting of the dog that makes me twitchy.

That is all of the news from our neck o' the swamp.
Hope everyone is staying cool!

New Threads

Laveau has needed new gear for some time now. Her harness is hanging in there alright but she really needed a new service vest for carrying things like medical information, my EpiPen, and wallet. Mister Pawpower who is the mastermind behind
<"Pawpower Creations">
wanted to take a crack at making a service cape for her. I wanted it to be purple, with black and white zebra stripes (I love zebras)!
He made a beautiful cape which is not only really sharp looking, but is roomy and comfortable.
You can see
<"Pictures">
of the cape on my FlickR page. One of these days, someone needs to tell me how to put pictures into my blog itself!

Once the cape was made, a friend of mine embroidered "PawPower" in pink thread on the top, and "Service Dog" in white thread on the bottom. It looks really colorful and awesome!
Just in time to show it off at AADB! Mister Pawpower is working on her matching harness and will hopefully have that done soon.

The Language of Loss

These last few weeks have been so very hard with Rudy being gone. But sometimes it seems it's the people I speak to the most who make it harder. I wanted to write this blog post, not as a rant, or a means of finger-pointing, but to explain to non-service dog handlers about how it feels after you lose your beloved partner.

If I had a dollar for every person who has asked "Have you guys found a replacement for Rudy yet?" I could retire to France with a dozen dogs. People seem to have no inkling what so ever that this question is offensive and hurtful. I understand the intent behind the question. The person wants to know if we have found a successor to train for Mister Pawpower.

A service dog is not an inanimate object that you can "replace" when it wears out or breaks. It is not that simple. The bond between a person with a disability and his/her SD is something unique and very special. It is different, much, much different than the love you feel for a pet. This dog has been with you more than anybody else has. This dog has stood between you and danger; frequently risking their own lives to ensure the handler's safety. These dogs are, for some, a lifeline to independence.

When an assistance dog partner looses their SD, whether to death or retirement, it is very difficult. The handler experiences a complex set of emotions; everything from sadness to anger, to guilt, to relief in some cases. Each person is different in the way they experience loss. Some folks, like me, find that they do better if they find an appropriate dog to work with as soon as possible. Some people go years between dogs. Some people only have one SD and then never have another because the loss was just too hard and horrible. They don't want to experience such grief again.

There is no "right" or "wrong" time to get a dog. People from the outside looking in, have absolutely no room to judge, nor to comment. It is normal to be curious about a person's feelings regarding another dog. But I'm asking you, please be very careful and aware of the language you use when asking about a possible next dog.

If the handler does decide to get another dog it is never, ever a "replacement." A dog isn't a pair of shoes or a computer. A dog is a life; special and one of a kind. A better way to phrase this question is:
"Are you interested in acquiring a successor dog?"
or:
"Have you thought of getting another dog, or are you not ready?
Acknowledge that the new dog is not the old, is not a "replacement." Also understand that the person might not even know if they want another dog, they may not even be ready to have this discussion yet.

This is ok, it is ok because the choice of acquiring a successor dog or not, is very personal. If the person answers your question, don't judge their answer. I know it's tempting to say something like:
"You might do better with another dog, it might help."
or:
"You may want to wait a while before getting another dog; maybe a dog isn't right for you any more."
It is nobody's place to judge, or to give advice, unless specifically asked by the handler to give it.

You may have experienced pet loss, and may think you are helping the person feel better by comparing your loss of Fluffy your favorite Chihuahua to the loss of the person's service dog. As I said above, pet loss is different than losing a service animal. Not harder, or easier; those aren't my value judgements to make. It is very different and comparing pet dog loss to service dog loss is like comparing apples to socks.

I need to be honest here and say that I'm very much struggling with feelings of anger right now every time someone uses the phrase "replace the dog." I am also frustrated because some of the people who use this phrase are close to me, and Laveau. They were also close to Mister Pawpower and Rudy. How, after seeing a service dog team work in partnership can they turn around and simply use a word like "replace?" It really hurts, and what's more it hurts Mister Pawpower which makes me even more upset because he is already hurting enough.

I would ask people to please think about what they say before they say it. A moment of forethought counts for more than an hour of apologies.

The State of the Pack

It has been a very hard and sad week. Also probably one of the longest weeks in recent history. We still miss Rudy every day. Our house seems so strange without him. On Thursday we got his ashes back and it was really sad.

The other dogs have had a really hard time, especially Mill'E-Max. She was with him when he died and she was very upset. So upset that she stopped doing hearing alerts in the home. I took her with me when I went to a doctor's appointment on Wednesday and she alerted then, but that has been all. She was also refusing to retrieve for the first couple of days but has now returned to her work as our "House Elf." I'm sure with time and some positive reinforcement, she'll begin alerting again as well.

There is some excitement on the horizon for Laveau and me, however. On June 17th, I'm leaving to attend the American Association of the Deafblind's symposium, which will be held in Ft. Mitchell, KY. I'm taking the train since my ears are too damaged to adjust to pressurized aircraft. The train will take about thirty-six hours each way.

On the leg of the trip going to Kentucky, we have a seven hour layover in Chicago. Yes, it's kind of ridiculous that I have to travel through Chicago to get from Louisiana to Kentucky, but efficiency has never been Amtrak's strong-suit. Returning to New Orleans, I have a Layover in Charlottesville VA.

I'm actually excited about these layovers because it means that I can meet internet friends who live in these cities, and because I always love going new places. We have a sleeper car from New Orleans to Chicago, but the rest of the time, we'll be in coach.
Ft. Mitchell KY. is right on the boarder and is very near Cincinnati, OH. I'm excited to see both cities. If you are in these areas and want to meet up, leave me a comment. Also if you are going to the symposium and want to get together, let me know and I can give my number for texting.

I've already started making lists of "must haves" and have gotten a new bait bag and some really tasty treats for Laveau to have on this trip. Now I just have to work out her food. Laveau eats a raw diet so this always takes some advanced planning. :)

I hope everyone is having a great Memorial Day Weekend!

Doing the Math

In our house, everything comes in 4's, or in multiples thereof.

4 dogs
64 nails to clip
8 ears to clean and check
4 heads to count at bed time
4 cold noses prodding us toward the fridge for breakfast in the morning.
Treats and perfect bones and chewies all come in multiples of 4.
Flea and Heart-worm preventive do, too.
2 harnesses rest on the cupboard out in the front room.
4 crates are scattered throughout the house.
There are the 4 spots around the kitchen table, everyone has a place, and everyone in their place come meal time.
... and now it's not that way any more. We are suddenly counting in multiples of three. When you live your life in multiples of 4, multiples of 3 is so wrong and unnatural. I like 4, 4 is a good number. 4 means health and safety and family and that everyone is ok at home, with us, where they belong.
But now there are three. And three is a very small number, so much smaller than 4.

All About Rudy

I meant to write this post several days ago, but life got in the way. I'm writing it now because today I learned that life is short, and so fragile.

Rudy was found wandering in a strip mall parking lot. He was taken to an animal shelter where he lived for a month. In 2004, my husband, Mister Pawpower, was looking for a dog to train for his guide. We found Rudy on pet finder, and decided to meet him.
He was living in a small animal shelter on the north shore of the lake pontchartrain, and some very kind shelter volunteers brought him over so we could meet him.

I knew when I first saw him that he'd be a wonderful guide. The one thing about Rudy was that he was so full of life. He loved going, it didn't matter where, as long as he was going.

Training him was a very difficult job. Rudy loved to go, and he wanted to be the one who decided the destination. He loved looking down the perpendicular streets as he guided Mister Pawpower. It didn't matter how we traveled, as long as we were traveling.

He rode buses, streetcars, cars, trains, and airplanes. Getting the harness on him was always such a challenge because he'd get so excited he couldn't hold still. He loved it best when Mill'E-Max, or Laveau and I were traveling with Mister Pawpower and him. He had his favorite places, and while some of them, like Wendy's restaurant were logical, he also adored Walgreens. He could find any Walgreens anywhere. I've frequently said that Walgreens should hire Rudy as their spokesdog because he loved it there. He loved airports, and shopping malls, and the french quarter.


At home, he was a laid back dude; preferring to nap in a patch of sun on the floor or in his crate as opposed to chasing balls. His favorite treat was pizza, and whenever we would order out, he would wait patiently for Mister Pawpower to bring the box inside. Then he would give the pizza an "honor guard" all the way into the kitchen. He would start grumbling if we didn't share. He ignored every other type of food, but pizza was just too good for him to decline.

In June of last year, Rudy was diagnosed with hip dysplasia. He slowly, and very unwillingly began easing into a life of semi-retirement. Mister Pawpower works from home, so he was able to work Rudy on trips to the store, or the coffee shop.

Today Mister Pawpower was in the tub when Rudy came and hung his head over the side and began nudging to go outside. Mister Pawpower let him out, but when he called the dogs back inside, Rudy didn't come. In his younger days, Rudy was a bit of an escape artist. Thinking that he had had a relapse of judgement, Mister Pawpower began scouring the neighborhood for signs of Rudy. He couldn't find a trace of him.

He went into the back yard to try and locate the place in the fence where Rudy may have gotten out, and instead he found that Rudy had died while out in the yard.

It was very shocking and horrible. I got the call at work, and I called the vet to come while making my way home.

When I got out of my friend's car, I saw the vet tech standing there with Rudy's 85 pound body in his arms. I knew then that Rudy was gone. Rudy was the kind of dog who went places on his own four feet, or he didn't go at all. I've never seen him so still, and quiet in a person's arms before today. I ran up and touched him on the leg. I just couldn't believe he had gone.

When you live through a situation like this, all of the "what if's" crash down upon you with merciless force. What if I hadn't gone to work and stayed home and had found him in time to do CPR. And What if I had missed some kind of crucial signal that he was unwell.

Two days ago, Mister Pawpower and I harnessed up Rudy and Mill'E-Max for a jaunt to our local coffee shop. Rudy was just as thrilled as always to get up and go. He loved the coffee shop. He loved working and getting out there.

Our vet has examined him and has determined that he died of heart failure which is sadly, very common in larger breed dogs.

We are all at such a loss. He has left a huge gaping hole in our lives.

Go in Peace, Rudy Dude. You will always be remembered with love. May you run fast and free, and your road be ever-open.
Walk within You
By Nicolas Evans
If I be the first of us to die,
Let grief not blacken long your sky.
Be bold yet modest in your grieving.
There is a change but not a leaving.
For just as death is part of life,
The dead live on forever in the living.
And all the gathered riches of our journey,
The moments shared, the mysteries explored,
The steady layering of intimacy stored,
The things that made us laugh or weep or sing,
The joy of sunlit snow or first unfurling of the spring,
The wordless language of look and touch,
The knowing,
Each giving and each taking,
These are not flowers that fade,
Nor trees that fall and crumble,
Nor are they stone,
For even stone cannot the wind and rain withstand
And mighty mountain peaks in time reduce to sand.
What we were, we are.
What we had, we have.
A conjoined past imperishably present.
So when you walk the wood where once we walked together
And scan in vain the dappled bank beside you for my shadow,
Or pause where we always did upon the hill to gaze across the land,
And spotting something, reach by habit for my hand,
And finding none, feel sorrow start to steal upon you,
Be still.
Close your eyes.
Breathe.
Listen for my footfall in your heart.
I am not gone but merely walk within you.

Laveau puts on a show, and other randomness

Sometimes school children take field trips to my place of employment. They learn about assistive technology, modified ways of completing necessary activities of daily living, canes, and of course assistance dogs. We had one such tour today. I was right in the middle of my speech about what a guide dog does, (I've affectionately named this the dog and pony show), when the fire alarm went off... again!

And Laveau flew into action, got me out of there, down the hall, out of the building, down the sidewalk, and across the road. We were the first ones out of the building. I felt bad that I couldn't explain what was going on to the kids, but when she alerts, I go.

It was a perfect "Animal Planet" alert and response! I mean picture perfect. I was so proud of her.

They are adding on to the building where I work, so lately there have been many fire alarms as they install, and test the alarm system for the new part of the building. I'm glad Laveau is responding so well, but honestly I'm ready for these alarms to stop ringing because it is extremely disruptive.

laveau has also made progress on her working retrieve. She will now put her teeth on the dumbbell for about 1/2 a second. She is about 80% about putting her teeth on the dumbbell without nosing, but I don't want to start adding duration to the "hold" until I get teeth grabbing 100% of the time.

Yesterday I went shopping for a new bait-bag and for treats. It took me three hours to find everything I needed. Laveau has a soft trachea and can only eat soft treats when doing rapid-fire clicker training, or when working. She also takes too long to chew hard treats. I think she's the first Doberman on record who actually chews things before eating them. With the option of hard treats out of the picture, I needed to look only for soft treats. Only my dogs are raw fed, and do not eat cereal grains. Laveau won't eat treats unless they smell meaty. See why that took me so long?! I'm excitedly waiting for my package from
<"Clean Run">
to arrive via UPS.
Shopping at this store always makes me long to build Agility courses in my backyard. I first need a large enough backyard for obstacles!

What Dat Is?

Yesterday I was reading a story with one of my clients about football, or baseball, I don't really remember which since I'm kind of a moron when it comes to sports. I mean, I cheer for the Saints for football, of course. During baseball season I cheer for the Boston Redsocks or the San Francisco Giants. But I don't actually, y'know, get all into it and I am still trying to figure out the whole point of football and what is a 1st down, anyway?

My client is reading this story about a water boy who brings the players water and towels and such when they have a break, or whatever. Anyway, my point of my senseless rambling is that my client came across the word "Gridiron."
I have never seen that word before. The client was reading to himself and he had a problem identifying one of the words after gridiron. I start reading the sentence aloud so he can tell me where he is having a problem. Only I mispronounce gridiron since I never heard the word when I was hearing. As a synesthete, the way I pronounce unfamiliar words largely depends on what color they are. Vowels are lighter, as is the letter D. Usually words tend to end with lighter colored letters, therefore, it seemed perfectly logical to pronounce it "Gridi ron."
Uh... that's not how you say it. My client laughed at me and he told me it was grid, like a graph, and iron, like iron your clothes. Ok ok, I get it.

That evening I'm telling the story to Mr. Pawpower and he tells me that I am mispronouncing the word "iron" which is the way I have always said it like "I Ron." So he had to explain to me that no it's not said like "I Ron" but like " I Earn." So I'm practicing how to say it correctly because now I'm paranoid. Also I have to teach the ironing lesson in a Daily Living Skills class very soon, and I don't want to look like an idiot because I can't say words correctly.
This entire experience makes me question why a sports field is called gridiron to begin with because it's made of grass, not iron and I don't think it's shaped like a grid, or maybe it is and I just don't know.

The Dish on the Dish

One of Mill'E-Max's jobs is to bring me the dogs' water bowl when it is empty. I filled it up just last night so I was surprised when she came into the kitchen where I was sitting, and jabbed the rim of the bowl into my side.

I grabbed the bowl, and headed to the kitchen sink to fill it. I usually fill the dish in the tub and she was not letting me fill it anywhere but the tub. She was still holding the bowl, and gave a mighty yank! So with me holding one side of the dish and Mill'E-Max the other, she walked backward from the kitchen, into the bedroom, and down the hall. She looked like she was doing a canine version of the moonwalk. She was making these gur gur gur noises and I could feel their vibrations in the dish as I held on to it. I was laughing so hard at the moonwalking and the gurring; I dropped the dish. She came around behind me with the dish and commenced to poking me in the butt with her dish in an attempt to get me to walk faster. Poke, poke poke! I'm sure she was still gurring!

Finally we arrived in the bathroom and I started filling the dish. She hung her head over the side staring at the rising water level.
She is a very impatient dog is our orange Mill'E-Max. Now if Laveau will keep her feet out of the water dish, maybe I won't have to refill it before afternoon.

I wonder sometimes, what do people who don't have dogs do for entertainment?

The Energizer Brissy

This morning I needed to make groceries. I walked out to the front room to grab the harness and Bristol pushed her way between Mill'E-Max and Laveau, to the front of the line, and shoved her head through the whole on the harness. Ok, I get it; the Queen has spoken. I finished harnessing her up and off we went. We hopped on the bus, got off at the grocery, and walked around the store getting what we needed. She had a blast and one little kid kept pointing her out and saying "Hi pretty doggie!" It was very cute.

I decided to buy Bristol a new tug toy since tug is her favorite game. I got her this cat on a rope. The cat is blue and has spikes all over it. It is wearing purple shoes and a purple stocking cap.

I got home and let all the dogs out in the yard while I put away the groceries. Then I got laundry together and let the dogs inside when I went out to the laundry shed to start the wash. I came back in and noticed the dogs playing with the new toy which I had left on the table. Unknown to me, I had also left a whole chicken next to the toy. They left the chicken and took the toy. I should say that Laveau took the toy because it was in the center of the table and neither Bristol, nor Mill'E-Max can get up there. Laveau knows that she can't take food from the table, but toys? That's open to interpretation, I guess.

Bristol played 4 games of tug with Mill'E-Max, and 3 games of tug with Laveau; winning them all. Then she wrestled on the floor with Laveau, playing a game which I have affectionately dubbed "Growly Spithead."
I think Bristol is tired at last. I'm sitting at the kitchen table typing on my Macbook and she is sleeping under the table.

That old gal sure has a lot of energy! I may need a nap after all that. Unfortunately for me, I need to go hang laundry on the line!

Oh and one last thing. I can use AIM on my iPhone to make IP relay calls. It's like the very modern version of those old TTYs. While I was in the frozen food section, picking out ice-cream, I called my taxi to take me home. I figured out that if I brace my braille note and iPhone on the cart just so, I can make relay calls while walking! The person helping me shop was very distracted by my phone and braille display, though and almost walked by the ice-cream. LOL!
It's laundry time for me, then I am going to bake peanut butter cookies, because my kitchen isn't already hot enough. :)
Oh well, cookies will make up for it!

Hide and Go Seek

Today I was doing some obedience games with Bristol, Mill'E-Max and Laveau. We did some group obedience, and then played hide and seek. This involves me putting all of the dogs in a stay in a room of the house, and then go to hide somewhere and calling them to come find me.

I had them all on a sit/stay in my kitchen and went to hide behind the bathroom door. Once I was safely hidden, I called for them to come find me. Laveau arrived first, quickly followed by Mill'E-Max. I waited a few seconds, after all Bristol is thirteen and not as fast as the younger dogs. Bristol didn't come. I wondered if she had lost interest in the game and went to lay down.
I went through out the house looking for her. I'm deafblind and Bristol is deaf so she doesn't come to her name. I walked around the house stomping my feet which is the cue for her to come find me. I searched all of her usual favorite places, and nothing.
Finally I went back into the kitchen, and there she still sat, in a perfect sit/stay, waiting for me to call her to me.

What a good dog. I got in her line of sight and made the sign for "come and she trotted over proud as punch that she stayed even when the other dogs ran off.

Usually if we're doing group obedience, each dog has to wait until their name is called or signed to do the action. I might have all the dogs in a sit/stay and ask one dog for a heel. While the one dog is heeling to my side, the others need to remain sitting.
Bristol didn't think I had called her yet, so she waited until I had.
Man I love that dog! She is just fantastic.
I've once again begun training Laveau's working retrieve. We've gone about this in fits and starts for various reasons but I've decided to work on it again since I need it more in public now and Mill'E-Max is usually at home.

I think I may let the girls have a rest and then take them for a walk later.
On a random note, Bristol's eye drops fell out of a drawer a few days back and Mill'E-Max, for some reason known only to her, picked them up and stuck them in her crate. When she was helping me pick up around the house this morning, she got them out and gave them back. Sometimes, I wish she could talk.

Lets Do the Smoke Alarm Shuffle!

Lately I've been experiencing quite a bit of vertigo due to my Meniere's Disease. This is an inner ear disorder which effects hearing, and vestibular function. In February of this year, I noticed a definite increase in vertigo symptoms, but being the big procrastinator I am, I took vestibular suppressants, and hoped for the best. The best didn't happen. I got tired of being stoned off my arse all of the time, and besides the meds weren't working anyway, so I took myself off of them. I'm scheduled to see my doctor on May 25th. She will hopefully prescribe more vestibular therapy.

It is a kind of physical therapy which aims to "retrain the brain" to accept the wacko vestibular system as "normal." I did it for about three months last summer and it helped quite a bit. Well, at first it made me sick as hell, but after about a month of drastically increased symptoms, things got a lot better. I'm hoping to go back for a second round. Until the therapy starts working, I'll be walking around, slamming into walls, and falling over quite a bit.
I use a wheeled walker in my home, but when I'm outside, Laveau does counterbalance work, and is able to keep me upright-- mostly.

Today was just another ordinary day at work. I was sitting across the table from my first student of the day when an announcement came over the PA system. They were working on the sprinkler system and the smoke alarm may go off. It was just a test, and we were to disregard it. In addition to being a hell of a walker dog, Laveau is also a great hearing dog. I taught her that when she hears the smoke alarm, she is immediately supposed to get my attention, take me out of the building, down the block, across the street, and then body block me from the building until the alarm stops.

With a hearing dog, there is no such thing as a "fire drill." Just like with a guide dog there is no such thing as "pretend traffic." It's a very serious thing, and even if the alarm goes off five times in a single day, Laveau is to follow her routine. I can't take the chance that she begins to ignore those alarms, because one day, it could save my life.

So there I sit, mid-class when the alarm goes off, and Laveau flies into action. before I knew what was happening, we were navigating the hallways swiftly and it was all I could do to stay upright. Vertigo, meet hearing dog with a mission. Down the hall, out the door, down the sidewalk, pausing a few times to brace me or to yank me upright. Cross the street, and stop. I wanted to throw up because all of the walking was making my world turn upside-down, literally. No time to puke because my dog just did a really awesome thing and I need it to be highly reinforced. So I gave her treats and scratches and let her jump up and give me a hug, meanwhile speaking to her in the high squeaky voice she so loves.

The alarm stops, and we go in. Thankfully I had explained the situation to my client, so she knew why I left her unexpectedly.

That client leaves, and a new client arrives. I give him the same song and dance about fire alarms and hearing dogs and bla, bla, bla. Which was a really good thing because someone in the Activities of Daily Living classroom burned the corn bread and once again! The fire alarm went off. and... Once again, Laveau and I were off, weaving down the hallway, out the door, down the sidewalk, and across the road. I was swearing through gritted teeth by this point because it took one hell of an effort for me to walk at all. We made it though, and we had more hugs and treats and snuggles.

Thankfully that was the last alarm for the day. My balance crapped out altogether on me this afternoon as I was walking home from the mini mart. I don't think I'm going anywhere tonight. Sometimes I feel like I'm at war with my ears, and right now-- I think they're winning. However it gives me great satisfaction to know that Laveau has ears enough for the both of us!

All about Mill'E-Max

She is orange.
She is hyper as hell.
She is the smartest dog I've ever met.
She is stubborn.
She is devoted to me.
She is Mill'E-Max.

In 2003, I was up against a brick wall with Gracy, and her training. I decided to get another dog and perhaps let Gracy mature for a bit. I'd been tossing around the concept of having two dogs-- one who works inside, and the other who works outside. I decided that if Gracy and I got over our issues, then I would explore this thought, but if not, I'd keep her as a pet.
I met Mill'E at a Golden Retriever rescue. They didn't know what to do with her. She was, as stated above, hyper, yet brilliant. These can be troublesome traits to manage, when coupled together. Aside from my first dog, Rhoda, I had never met another dog and had an immediate attachment to her. It was that way with Mill'E, though. Her actual name-- given by the older couple who had surrendered her to rescue was "Miele" which is Italian for honey and is pronounced me-ay-lay. It had been shortened to "Millie" but I didn't like the way "Millie" looked because the "IE" letter combination at the ends of words is very displeasing.
See, this is what happens when you are a synesthete; normal things, like fingernails on chalk boards don't annoy you but certain combinations of graphemes will.

Therefore Millie became Mill'E because my name also has an apostrophe in it, and we matched. I soon learned that Mill'E did not do anything half-assed. She did it to the maximum. She then became "Mill'E-Max." I usually only call her "Mill'E" when she's guiding me.

Mill'E-Max was a lot of dog. I mean, she was hyper, flighty, had bad canine social skills, was bossy, demanding, clever, inquisitive, and even more characteristics which I could not list if I tried. She kept me on my toes, that dog.

She was attacked three times by loose dogs or dogs on flexy leads. She became very fearful and dog reactive. This was a problem. I loved this dog, and she loved me. She loved being a guide dog and I loved having her by my side. I began trying everything to "fix" the reactivity issues. From straight Koehler training, to Bridge and Target training, I tried anything I could. I read about reactivity, from both a training, and a veterinary behavioral viewpoint.

I noticed that clicker training, and the use of operant conditioning received the best results. Becoming a clicker trainer changed my life. It got passed all of the blame, and broke behavior down to its component parts for me. Many dog trainers, view a dog/person relationship in very adversarial terms. I frequently heard things like "Don't let your dog test you; they'll do what they can get away with." or "You've got to show her who is the dominant one, and be the leader or she will take advantage of you in an attempt to gain leadership." I learned that behavior is behavior. We, the humans are the ones who assign value to it. E.g. taking things from the trash, that is "bad behavior," where as walking nicely on a loose leash is "good behavior."

When I chose to become a clicker trainer, I had to take all of the adversarial, emotion-laden training that I had been indoctrinated to believe, and throw it out. Only then was I able to begin anew; establishing a training method built on impartial science and mutual respect.

I used clicker training to re-teach guide work. She learned retrieve, and tug based tasks to help with my other disabilities. Her favorite chore was the laundry, and she would empty the dryer all day long, if she could.

Mill'E-Max made great improvement. We worked fluidly as a team and things were going along in their normal routine way, when we needed to evacuate for hurricane Katrina. We ended up in Memphis, TN. and when the levees failed, that is where we stayed.

I didn't evacuate to Memphis because I had a support system in place; I evacuated to Memphis because it was the city closest to New Orleans which was not forecasted to sustain damage from the storm. I got on the last train leaving the city and my choices were limited.

So there we were, me, Mr. Pawpower, Bristol, Gracy, Mill'E-Max and Rudy in a strange city full of unknowns. There was not a day that passed that I did not thank the powers that be for Mill'E-Max. She was the rock to which I unashamedly clung. She remembered where places were even after going there just once. She navigated me through this strange city and was always there for me, no matter what. When you are in the middle of a protracted crisis situation, your brain doesn't work like normal; or at least mine does not. If you ask me now, to recall those first few weeks of exile, I won't be able to tell you much of anything. I was not myself, I was not able to be strong for my dog, so she was strong for me. She remembered where my hotel room was, where the grocery store was, later, where my new apartment was. She remembered all kinds of routs to all kinds of places. She sat through countless meetings for food stamps, unemployment, and FEMA benefits. We would frequently be in waiting rooms for hours, and the displaced children would flock to us. The stories of pets lost, or left behind fell from their lips, along with their tears. I was there to listen, and Mill'E-Max was there to lay a paw, or her head on a small knee and to look up with her brown eyes. She quietly lay close as their tears wet her fur. I will never be able to repay her for the gift of her steady patience during this time.

We eventually moved back to New Orleans and in March of 2008 she was diagnosed with advanced degenerative joint disease in her right knee and upper patella. It was devastating. We were both completely broken. She loved working and I loved walking along beside her at full speed. It was necessary for her to stop doing work outside the home on a daily basis. One of the hardest parts of choosing to work with an assistance dog, is putting their needs first. Even when it hurts them, and they would rather work, you put the needs of their physical body first. It was hard because as with Bristol, I couldn't explain to her why she was no longer taking long walks with me.

Thankfully, she was still able to do her indoor work-- retrieving, locating, and tugging. She loves to do these tasks and we've nicknamed her the "house elf."

One of Mill'E's jobs is to wake me up in the morning. One day, I decided to try and fake her out; what would she do if I wouldn't wake up? She tried everything she knew. She rolled around atop me, licking every exposed inch of skin. This didn't get a response. She then removed my pillow, and blanket. I continued to pretend to be sleeping, in the hopes she would leave me alone. Once she had removed all of the covers, she left, and I sighed, very satisfied at out smarting her. Or at least I did until she brought her water dish into the bedroom and dumped its remaining contents on my head. I do not try to fake her out any more!
Mill'E-Max loves emptying the dryer. I think she must have been a jock in her past life because nothing gives her quite as much pleasure as tugging a towel from the dryer, and then spinning to snap me with the end.
I miss walking with her. People would call out warnings when they would see us charging down the sidewalk. She would wait until the last minute to dart me around an obstacle in our path, but she never ran me into anything. She was very aware of traffic and I knew that I could trust her to stand between me and whatever was coming my way.

She will be 9 years old this October and she is still as full of zest and love for life as she always was.
When I first read the following poem, I thought of her. The author is unknown, but I think they must have had a dog like Mill'E-Max in mind when they wrote it.


I asked for strength that I might rear her perfectly;
I was given weakness that I might feed her more treats.
I asked for good health that I might rest easy;
I was given a "special needs" dog that I might know nurturing.

I asked for an obedient dog that I might feel proud;
I was given stubbornness that I might feel humble.

I asked for compliance that I might feel masterful;
I was given a clown that I might laugh.

I asked for a companion that I might not feel lonely;
I was given a best friend that I would feel loved.

I got nothing I asked for,
But everything that I needed.



Author unknown

no comment

One frustrating thing about working an assistance dog, is that suddenly everyone you know, and everyone you meet seems to be a dog trainer. They watch "It's Me Or The Dog" and "The Dog Whisperer" and suddenly Victoria and Cesar have taught them everything about how to train, and interact with, a dog.

These people seem to feel perfectly justified in making comments about the way my dog does, or does not, do her job. Most of these same people either do not have a dog of their own, or they have small dogs who are spoiled, under-socialized, and out of control. The fact that these people cannot even train their own dogs to a reasonable degree does not seem to stop them from being "armchair dog trainers."

We have the "Pack Leaders." They believe that I need to "dominate my dog. Be the pack leader!" This usually involves a metal training collar of some variety or other, and corrections with a leash when the dog engages in undesirable behaviors.

Laveau does not wear a metal training collar because she has a very soft trachea and cannot physically handle collar corrections. I am a clicker trainer. I prefer to , train and maintain Laveau's behaviors using the principles of operand conditioning; mainly positive reinforcement, negative punishment, and extinction.
When one of these "pack leader" types sees my dog make an error, and then sees me stop, do some re-focusing work, and give her another chance to do the correct behavior, they come up to me, tell me I'm spoiling my dog and "rewarding her for misbehaving." They tell me that my dog won't "respect you unless you are the dominant one!"

There are people who use leash corrections with their assistance dogs. While this is not a training method that I, myself use, I respect the fact that others use it successfully and humanely. Clicker training works for me, and it works for my dogs. It doesn't make them "spoiled" and it doesn't make them "disrespect me."


Then there are the ones I've named the "Anthropomorphites." They attribute human emotion to my dog. They "feel so sorry that she has to work." They try to sneak her food under the table in restaurants because "she looks so hungry." They lecture me for "bringing that poor dog" to events such as outdoor concerts and Mardi Gras parades. They get angry when Laveau is panting heavily and I refuse to give her water. Laveau has a soft trachea and she cannot drink large amounts of water when she is panting or she will throw up. I have learned this from hard experience. I understand how it looks to people, but at the same time, my dog is obviously well cared for, people should trust my judgement. This also goes for bringing her to events such as outdoor concerts. I realize that most dogs can't handle events like this, but Laveau does just fine. If she couldn't handle these kinds of things, and even enjoy working in this environment, she would not be my assistance dog. As for people attributing emotion to her because of the way they interpret her facial expression.... I don't even have words. My dog eats, and is a healthy weight. While humans, (me included), may look at their job with a mix of irritation and exhaustion, dogs don't think that way. You can't "force" an assistance dog to work. They work because they love to do it. I wish I loved my job half as much as Laveau loves hers.


Then we have the "commentators." People who love to give me a running commentary of my dog's perceived wrongs. "She's getting distracted." is a frequent one. My dog is a Doberman. This means that she is very cautious of my safety, and very aware of, and curious about, her environment. Sometimes she will take her time with me-- especially if she feels that I'm unsteady on my feet. She will frequently look around while walking slowly or while pausing on a step or curb. Apparently this looks as though she is distracted. Does she get distracted sometimes? Yes! Absolutely. We all do; dogs aren't perfect because nobody is perfect. I sometimes get distracted, so does most everyone else I know. However when my dog gets distracted, or makes an error, the "commentator" loves to make some remark along the lines of "is she still in training?" or "you should call the program who gave her to you and ask about retraining."
This is very frustrating. People watch too much animal planet and have a very unrealistic expectation of what assistance dogs are, and are not. If I wanted a robot who never made mistakes; I'd get a robot.

Like I said; Laveau makes mistakes sometimes. This does not mean that she isn't a "real guide dog," or that she "needs more training." When people make mistakes are they then "not real?" or do they need "more training?" From time to time I may focus on improving a skill or behavior with Laveau. This is my decision, and mine alone. For the most part, she's an awesome dog.

If you meet an assistance dog team who seems to be having a hard time, my best advice is to shut the hell up, and mind your own business. It is neither necessary, nor advisable to comment on someone's assistance dog. I don't care if the person is a friend, a family member, a coworker, or stranger. It is rude to offer unasked for advice. Like my mama said-- "If you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all."

A Question of Manners

I have a question for all of you in blog-land.

I have an iPhone. It is connected, via bluetooth, to my braille display. Apple has built a "screen curtain" into all their products. This feature blackens the screen so people can't read it. Usually I have this feature enabled, but sometimes not. I find that when I'm in public, either texting, or using my Mac, and the screen curtain is not enabled, people will stand near me, to watch, and read my screen. I find this rude, annoying and intrusive. This is why I usually have the screen curtain turned off on both my Mac and my iPhone when out in public. It doesn't keep the nosys from staring, but at least they can't read my screen.
I know people don't mean to be rude, and that most people don't think about it, that they are just so fascinated with my technology, bla bla bla. I really don't give a tinker's damn that their intentions are good; I want to be left alone.

So my question to you, is it normal for sighties to do this to one another. In other words, if you were to see a sighted person in a coffee shop who had a laptop or cell phone, would it be socially acceptable to stand there and visibly read their screen? Am I just too prickly and should just chill out? If sighted people do it to each other and it isn't considered "rude" I'm more than willing to look at this issue differently. Right now, however, it just feels like a huge invasion of my space, and like because people know I'm blind, they think it's perfectly ok to engage in behaviors which are not acceptable to do if I were sighted.

Only Words?

I've been wanting to talk about language, and how its used, for quite some time now. Especially as it relates to how we describe ourselves as people with disabilities.

We each have our own identity, and my identity is just that-- mine. I don't believe that my identity or the terms by which I describe myself should be used by everyone. It is up to the individual to define their own identity. This blog entry is about my identity and the language I use to define it.

I'm Deafblind. There-- I said it; Deafblind. Two of the most dreaded words in any language compounded into one. Deafblindness is its own unique state of being. It is neither deafness, nor blindness, but both, together. This means that the technological, social, and practical alternative techniques used to live a full and happy life are not the same as those used for those whose only disability is deafness or blindness.

I am a Deafblind person who is learning American Sign Language, which is its own unique language. It is not English broken down into gestures. ASL has its own grammar, syntax and idioms. I am becoming more involved in the Deafblind community. Each day that passes I am becoming more and more culturally Deafblind.
I guess I should go back and explain the difference between Deafblind (large D), and deafblind (small d.). Deafblindness is cultural. People who are Deafblind use American Sign Language (or other local signed languages) to communicate. Deafblind people have their own history, set of values, and traditions. Now we get to deafblindness, which is the medical condition causing the hearing and sight loss. There are many people who can be deafblind but who still prefer to use spoken language to communicate. These people are usually not involved in the Deafblind community, and do not accept Deafblind cultural norms for their own.

When people speak of my lack of vision or hearing I want them to use the word "Deafblind." I eschew ridiculous terms such as hard of seeing or hearing challenged. The term sightless is annoying, archaic, and brings to mind the image of a man begging on the street. It is putting the focus upon what I do not have.

The term hearing impaired is offensive. Hearing people were the first to use it, in an attempt to be more politically correct. Again, the person who cannot hear is described as being lesser. Hearing is seen as "normal" and therefore better. A hearing person is not better than me. I have my own identity and I want to be described as Deafblind.

Think of it this way. We have many different religions world-wide. Imagine if we took one religion, lets say... Mormonism and made it the "norm." Everyone who wasn't a Mormon would then be called religion impaired. Would you like that? Would you like for your identity as a Catholic, or Muslim, or Wiccan to be dismissed as not the norm, lesser than, Mormons?
When people use the phrase (fill in the blank) impaired, the focus turns to what the person is lacking, not what they have. I do not want to be defined by what I am not. At first it may seem polite to use the word "impaired" lest the label deaf, blind, hard of hearing etc. be seen as offensive to the person. Some people don't mind being defined as impaired. Some people keenly feel the loss of a sense such as vision or hearing, and do feel as though they are lesser than a "normal" person. However, as I said, this is my blog and we're talking about me.

Our society is afraid of deafness and blindness. We are afraid of offending the deaf or blind person so we come up with all of these politically correct workarounds. I also think there is another element of fear involved; the fear of deafness and blindness itself. If you use words like "sight challenged" it sounds a great deal less final, and scary than "blind." Our society doesn't like saying the words because we don't like to think about deafness, or blindness, or even more so, deafblindness. I have noticed this particularly with blind people. I have met many blind people who do not like to use the word deaf. No matter how many times I remind them that I'm deafblind, some people continue to refer to me as a bit hard of hearing, or hearing challenged. Just like sight loss is one of the biggest fears of many sighted people; hearing loss is one of the biggest fears of many blind people.

I want to be referred to as deafblind. Deafblind is what I am. The label of deafblindness does not seek to put limits on me; or to make me seem lesser than, the norm.

Deafblindness is another characteristic of mine-- like my red hair, my freckles, or my ability to wiggle my ears.

Deafblindness itself doesn't limit me; society does. Every time a deafblind person doesn't get an interpreter for a doctor's appointment because someone in the office didn't think they needed it, or forgot to schedule it, we are being limited. Every time a deafblind person is denied access to a restaurant due to the presence of their assistance dog, that is another way society limits us. Every time a deafblind person is dismissed from a job interview before it has even started because the person doing the interview is ignorant about the capabilities of deafblind people, that is another challenge put in the deafblind person's path. The people doing these things make up our society. If I'm impaired in any way; I am societally impaired.

Words matter. My words matter; your words matter. We should all think before using them.

Reactions to Laveau's Brain

This post is for
<"The Third Assistance Dog Blog Carnival">
This time around, the topic is "reactions."

To be honest, I didn't think I'd write for this carnival. The topic of the publics' "reactions" to the presence of assistance dogs in public places has been pretty well talked out, and I have nothing new to add. Then a conversation with a friend got me thinking.

My current assistance dog, Laveau, is a Doberman mix. People like to say she's mixed with lab, but personally, I don't see it and am leaning more toward hound of some kind. People frequently ask me, "What breed is she?" I reply, "Doberman mix." Then it starts...
"That is dangerous to have a Doberman out in public. Don't you know that Dobermans have a condition where their brains outgrow their skull? When this happens, they go crazy and start killing people."
If I had a dollar for every idiot who has spouted some form of this untruth, I could retire and live the high life with my crazy Doberman.

There is a disease where the brain can put pressure on the skull. It is called
<"syringomyelia">
This condition is most frequently found in Cavalier King Charles Spaniels, although rarely can be found in other breeds. It is not normally found in Dobermans, however. The disease does not "make the dog go mad and start biting people."

But it never fails. If I give a presentation, at an elementary school, inevitably, some six-year-old will start spouting the "brain outgrows its skull" nonsense, and I have to explain that no, my dog will not suddenly start biting the heads off of random children.
I have even heard a well-known guide dog trainer talk about this same issue. She was explaining why Dobermans aren't used much as guides any more and out came that old reliable "brain out growing its skull" song and dance. Apparently, one of the ways a Doberman guide dog owner can tell if the dreaded condition is upon them is that the dog will begin spinning its handler in circles, usually in the middle of the street.

You will be relieved to know that Laveau has not started doing this, or maybe I just have such chronic and terrible vertigo that I don't notice because life is one giant circle for me, anyway.

I have fallen in love with the breed; the watchfulness, work ethic, easy-care coat, size, and Velcro tendencies make the Doberman an ideal breed for my service dog. This means that I'm probably going to be hardily sick of the reactions of the uneducated masses who are worried that my dog will see them as a two-legged snack.

Laveau makes up for all of the misinformed folks out there by being a devoted and careful worker. Hopefully, when people see her work and her calm demeanor, their reactions will change.

A pocket-full of hardware, and other randomness

I've been quiet on the blog of late because things have been somewhat hectic. On Monday Bristol went to the vets' for her checkup and lab work. The vet was very happy with her physical exam and said that everything looked great. He drew blood for labs and said they'd be in by Tuesday morning. The labs weren't in until Thursday afternoon. I was not a happy camper and kept calling the vets' office who was probably equally unhappy at being bothered by the crazy obsessive dog lady. Finally they came in on Thursday afternoon and everything was normal. My vet said that she has the blood of a six-year-old dog. For a thirteen-year-old dog, I'd say she's doing pretty darned good.

I had yesterday off because it was Good Friday and I live in predominately Catholic New Orleans. I went shopping and to lunch with a friend.

Today I helped Mister Pawpower assemble our new barbecue grill that I bought yesterday. I am assembly impaired, or something. I do not know the difference between a washer and a wing-nut. Mister Pawpower, however is the assembly master. I was the official holder of the hardware. Once he explained the differences between washers, wing-nuts, nuts, bolts and lock-washers, I was good to go. We got the barbecue grill put together and I screwed the handle onto the lid of the grill all by myself, and I didn't even break anything!

After we finished with the grill, we went to the store for beer, but alas, they don't have their liquor license as of yet. This is very sad because in my humble opinion, beer is an integral part of any proper barbecue. Hopefully we can solve this problem by tomorrow which is the big day.

We used to live in another house about three blocks away from our current one. Our neighbor was this elderly lady who was at least eighty-five years young.
Well one day, shortly after we moved in, Mister Pawpower and I decided to do a barbecue. We had some friends over and Mister Pawpower took the charcoal, the lighter fluid and the matches outside. He had just lit the coals and the flames were kind of high when our neighbor stepped outside. all of the color drained from her face when she saw the blind man with the matches and she yelled "OH SWEET LAUD!!" You could tell that her horror of the blind man playing with fire was doing battle with her proper civilized southern lady sensibilities. The sensibilities won out and in a very calm voice, she said "Ah, you're barbecuing... I see...."
I did not make any sarcastic remarks about her need to overstate the obvious, but instead offered her some food as any proper Southerner would do. She declined and went back into her house.

However she still didn't trust my husband not to burn down the entire block, and our sighted friends frequently saw her twitch the curtain aside to look out the window. Guess she wanted to make sure that our back yard didn't become an inferno while she was unaware.

We have not barbecued yet since we've been in this new house, so the reactions from the neighbors might be interesting.

It's that whole assumption that blind equals incapable. Educating by doing, I guess that's how I'll teach 'em.
I really want to learn to barbecue so Mister Pawpower is going to teach me how to set up the charcoal and set it alight and how to cook on the grill. I'm very excited about this, but I promise not to burn down our house!

Owner Training?

Sometimes people ask me, "What are the qualities that make a person a good assistance dog owner trainer?"
I've been pondering this quite a bit, actually so thought I'd blog about it.

Disclaimer number one: This is my blog so these are my views. My ideas and observations may not align with another owner trainers views on the subject.
Disclaimer number two: I think the word "good" in the question stated above is too ambiguous. I prefer the term "effective." I am not in the business of deciding if anyone else besides myself is an "effective" trainer.

So what are the qualities, according to me, which make an effective owner trainer? I'll list the most important ones and then go into greater depth on each one.
• love of dog training
• willingness to learn
• patience
• a working knowledge of the applicable assistance dog laws in your country

• good orientation and mobility skills (this is guide dog specific)
• ability to keep accurate records
• ability to be honest with yourself
• a backbone

Love of Dog Training:
There is a very big difference between getting a dog from a program and starting from scratch with a dog who may not even know its name. A dog from a program will have learned obedience cues such as sit, down, stay, and loose-leash walking, or LLW. The program dog may have a few bad habits such as scrounging for food, or dog distraction, but your program dog should have most of its training completed.

People who have never handled a completely green dog have no idea what they're getting into. People who have worked only program dogs and who have had no other dog experience may be in for a very rude awakening if they attempt to owner train using the skill set taught by the programs. Programs don't really focus on teaching you to train dogs; they teach you how to communicate with your already trained dog. They may teach you how to train things like how to follow a person or how to target, but a green dog is just that, green.

If you are going to owner train, you have to want to be involved in the process. This could include everything from house-training to teaching the dog its name. You only get to do the public access stuff once the basic obedience, appropriate behaviors such as toilet training and food refusal are fluent.

Training a dog is hard, back-breaking work. It is hot, and sweaty in the summer, and cold and icy in the winter. Dogs don't care if you're tired or busy or that you "don't feel like it." If you want a dog to behave consistently, you need to train consistently.
Willingness to Learn:
Your dog will teach you things about yourself and the training process. Sometimes you aren't going to like the lessons. Owner training is very humbling. If your dog isn't responding or learning, then you need to look for a new way to teach what you want. You may need to go to obedience school with your dog. I have done this with all of my dogs. Sometimes I didn't even really like the trainer much, but I learned something about my dog or myself or about the training process every time I went. As an owner trainer, I'm wrong sometimes. Wrong about what my dog can handle, wrong in my approach, or wrong in my actions. You have to be able to learn from your mistakes and the first part of learning, is admitting that there is an issue.

PATIENCE:
Owner training is a long process. Be patient with your dog and yourself. Patience actually starts before you get a dog. I first learned about patience when looking for an assistance dog candidate. If you go with the first dog you like because you want a dog now! You may end up washing out that dog, and having to start again. Be patient, do research, slow is fast as my friend Karyn over at

<"Pawsitively-k9"> likes to say.

A Working Knowledge of the Applicable Assistance Dog Laws in Your Country:

When you owner train, you're on your own. When you run into access problems, there is no program to back you up, or to tell you what the laws are. Thanks to the wonders of the world wide web, this information is easily accessible, however. You will want to know these laws before you even make the final choice whether or not to owner train. In some contras your dog must come from a an official program, and people with disabilities do not have the right to brain owner trained dogs into places of business. Know your rights and responsibilities.

Good Orientation and Mobility Skills:
This is guide dog specific. If you don't know where the hell you are, or how to get to point B from point A, you are going to have a hard time training your own guide dog. All guide dog programs insist upon good orientation mobility skills before a person is accepted for training with a guide dog. They have good reasons for this. I think it is even more important as an owner trainer to be comfortable with your environment, and be able to navigate it without regular problems. This is not to say that you should be perfect. Heck, I get lost all the time. However I have good problem-solving skills and know how to get myself unlost, if that is even a word. I'm not talking about some "superblindy" who never makes an O&M mistake. I'm talking about a good set of travel skills, and the ability to stay calm and problem-solve. The ability to keep an accurate map in your head is a definite plus, but not a requirement.

Ability to Keep Accurate Records:
If you get into an access denial situation, you could appear in front of a judge who may want to know if your dog is really trained to do work, or perform tasks which mitigate your disability. If you have a program dog, then of course the program trainers will probably come down and testify on your behalf. They will also be able to show written records of your program dog's progress through the training.
If you are an owner trainer, you don't have anyone to do this for you. Keep a training log. Make videos of your dog working in various situations. Keep all documents such as certificates of completion from an obedience school. These certificates may not prove that your dog is an assistance dog, but it will show that you have been training your dog for X amount of time. Do not make the mistake of buying some kind of "certification" for your assistance dog from some schmuck on the internet. In the united States, there is no "certification" and any "certification" you may buy is only worth the paper its printed on. The company who sells you this "certification" won't come down and prove to the judge that your dog has been trained. So keep records!

Ability to be Honest With Yourself:
Sometimes a dog isn't suitable for assistance dog work and you may have to wash it out and start again. In the records you've kept, be honest. Lack of truthfulness with yourself will only come around to bite you in the butt in the end. It may take a while (see Patience, above) but be honest, and if a dog isn't fit for the work, do yourself and the entire service dog community a favor and don't take it into public. I'm not talking about a dog who has its off days, because no dog is perfect. I'm talking about a dog with a serious issue like reactivity or health problems.

A Backbone:
Owner training has become more widely accepted over these last five or so years. However, you are going to run into people who have issues with it. It could be anyone from your family, friends, other people with disabilities or assistance dog handlers. I've met some trainers from programs who have been pretty unpleasant. I've also dealt with all of the people stated above, who at one time or another had a problem with owner trainers and owner training, for a number of reasons. If this is something you want to do, if you've done your research and are determined to do it, you should be aware that you're probably going to encounter resistance, and sometimes outright hostility. If you can't handle that, then reconsider.

When you owner train your assistance dog you are the trainer, the advocate, the public relations, and the handler of your dog. You may have friends and fellow trainers who will advise and help you, but ultimately, you are responsible. If you can't handle that, reconsider.

I owner train because I love the process. I love dogs and dog training. I love the hours of work involved. When I stop loving it, then I will get a dog somewhere else.

All About Gracy

Some of you may be asking yourselves "Gracy who?" Whereas many of you already know who Gracy is. However since I'm doing this "all about" feature, I have to include her even though she mostly lives at my friends house these days.

In 2002, I began doing volunteer work at a kill shelter in the city where I lived. I had just moved into a huge house and the landlords didn't care that I was "the crazy dog lady." I was then able to begin fostering dogs in my home who weren't doing well in the shelter environment. However I wanted to adopt a dog-- not just foster one. Bristol had some weird dog social issues which needed to be addressed sooner rather than later if she were to live with me and my new guide when she retired. Not to put too fine a point on it or anything, but out of harness, Bristol was a bossy bitch who had no idea how to have appropriate social interactions with other dogs. I decided that we needed a pet dog in our family who would help her learn these things.

I started my search and on the first day at the shelter, I fell in love with a beautiful yellow lab. She was awesome and so pretty and even though I couldn't take her out of her cage because she was still in quarantine because she had been found abandoned, I knew I wanted this dog. Yes, I was a shallow idiot back then. I waited the mandatory two week period for someone to claim her, and nobody did. Meanwhile, I visited her daily when making my rounds at the shelter. She shared her kennel with the saddest looking black dog I'd ever seen. She was filthy, covered with huge open sores and was not doing well in the shelter. I snuggled her too because she was just so pathetic. However she wasn't my dog, and I waited for my yellow lab to get the green light for release.

The day finally arrived. I went to the shelter, sprung the yellow dog from her kennel and instantly knew that this would never work. She was extremely dog reactive, and I couldn't have a dog like that around my guide dog. Back in the cage she went and because I felt bad for her, I took the dirty black dog out for a little love. She was sweet and instantly warmed up to Bristol. My fellow volunteers encouraged me to adopt her. However, see above, re: shallow! She was dirty and sad looking and not the image I had when I saw myself bringing home my new dog. I really felt bad for this dog though, so I decided to clean her up a bit in hopes she'd get adopted if she were a bit more presentable.
While readying her bath, I looked at her file. Her name was Jewel, she was a border collie mix who had been turned in by her owners for chasing the chickens and eating their eggs. I put Jewel in the tub and tried to clip all of the hair away from her open hot spots. I shampooed her, and when I was done, both my friend and I were covered with black fur. Once she was clean, I put her on the grooming table to brush out some of the undercoat. During this entire process, Jewel submitted quietly to the hands and warm water.

When I began brushing her, I started to sing. This was a ritual which had started with my first dog, that of music and grooming. I went through all of my old favorites and when I was done, I ended with the song "Amazing Grace."

"Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
which saved a wretch like me.
I once was lost, but now am found.
Was blind, but now I see."

As I finished the first verse I had what would probably be called "A lightbulb moment from Mother Universe." I knew this was my dog and that I would be leaving with her that day and that her name was Gracy because it was grace which brought us together.

Gracy couldn't come home with me that day because she needed to be neutered. Two days later I picked up an even more pathetic-looking black dog(although still clean) from the vet office at the shelter. She had been spayed, vaccinated for every canine disease known to man, and treated with antibiotics for kennel cough. I took her home in the Elizabethan collar (aka the cone of shame) and put her in my bed where she stayed for the next four days only leaving to take trips outside to relieve. I fed her ground turkey and probiotics and vitamin C. I took her off the meds they gave me and treated her with homeopathy. A week later I had an entirely different dog.

We began taking walks together, Bristol guiding and Gracy on the right. It wasn't long before Gracy started modeling her behavior after Bristol's. There are scientists and dog people who will tell you that dogs don't learn behavior by watching other dogs and I say that they have never worked with border collies. This is the way they seem to learn best.
I knew Bristol was retiring probably within the next year so began tossing around the idea of training Gracy as her successor. Even if she didn't work out as a full-time guide, it would still be a great experience for me to have as a trainer.

Back then, I still subscribed to the "yank and crank" school of training which involved chain collars and harsh leash corrections. It is how I was taught to train, and was the only way I thought guide dogs could be trained. These methods did not go over well with Gracy. The more she screwed up, the more I corrected and the more she shut down. Sometimes we'd do great together but sometimes our relationship turned into a modern day "War of the Roses."
I had moved to New Orleans by this point and made the choice to wash her out as a guide because I just didn't know what to do. She was a great pet but I couldn't handle the not knowing if she'd work for me or not, the inability to take correction and my own irritation with the entire process.

I began training Mill'E and some events in Mill'E's situation lead me to have a sort of Training renaissance. I realized that there was more than one way to skin a cat and began using exclusively clicker training.

One day, I decided to see how Gracy would react to this new method and it was like her inner light came on.

As my disabilities progressed, I decided that it would be beneficial for everyone if I had two working dogs at the same time. I don't mean that I take two dogs everywhere I go-- I mean that I have two dogs so that one dog can guide, and one dog can help out at home. Because I'm Deafblind I need a dog to do sound alerts, and because of my vertigo I needed a dog to do retrieve and carry-based tasks. It is really not fair to ask one dog to work both jobs for a person who is as active and busy a I am.

Gracy blossomed under the new method of training and I began using her as a guide more and more. We traveled for work and pleasure together, via train and plane and bus.
One of my favorite stories of Gracy happened while in an airport. Now Gracy was a farm dog who liked to chase small animals. We had some wild chickens in our neighborhood (don't ask me how we had wild chickens in the heart of the inner city because I had no idea). She had been known to escape from the yard and to chase said chickens which was no surprise seeing as that's what got her sent to the pound last time.
So we're in this airport and I'm relaxing between flights and talking to the lady next to me when suddenly she began describing the following events.
Apparently birds had gotten into the airport and would fly around. Well, one of these birds saw Gracy just laying there and decided to investigate. It landed about 18 inches away from her and walked a complete circle around her, with its little bird head cocked at an angle, just staring at her. I was very worried about what she'd do but I stayed calm and gave her the cue to stay. The bird inched closer and closer, and Gracy didn't so much as twitch a whisker. Eventually it flew away with all of its feathers intact.

Another time I had met my good friend Lisa in the Philadelphia airport. She and I, with our two guide dogs had planned to fly on to a conference together. We made it to our gate, got our dogs settled at our feet, when a lady with one of those little dogs in a carrier sat down across the row from us. The little dog saw our dogs and commenced to barking its little dog bark. "Yip! yip! yip!" Several minutes later, a person with a German Shepherd guide dog entered our gate area. The dog got settled on the floor. Then the GSD began barking back at the little dog in the carrier who was still yipping. So it sounded like this: "Yip! Woooof! yip yip! woooooooooof!! Woof! yip yap!" Gracy had, in the past, been a very vocal dog. She was whiney and tended to bark when startled. At home, she loved nothing more than a good bark fest. However she, and my friends dog lay quietly at our feet while the other dogs yipped and barked until they called our flight.

In 2008, Gracy began showing more and more signs that she wanted to retire. I wanted to let her do that if it was what she wanted, however I knew that she wouldn't be happy to live in the city in my house with its tiny yard. I had moved to New Orleans with my friend Barb and she had had known Gracy since day one. Barb lived in a less densely populated part of the city and owned a huge piece of land with ponds and gardens and trees with squirrels. Barb wanted to take her and I made the very hard choice to let her go.

Now Gracy has a happy retirement getting back to her farm dog roots. She guards the property, keeps tabs on the squirrel and rodent population-- reducing it when she gets the chance and shares her yard with a Bouvier and an Am Staff. Every couple of weeks she comes to stay with us for a few days and we get a chance to love up on her and for our other dogs to see her also.
Gracy has always had a special relationship with Bristol. For many years it was just Gracy, Bristol and me. They were the best of friends and as Bristol ages, I want her to be able to spend lots of time with her border collie buddy.

Gracy was one of the hardest dogs I've ever worked with, however she was one of the dogs who made me grow the most as a trainer. She will be ten in May, and she's starting to get gray around the muzzle now. Ever since I got her from the shelter, she has had the oddest nose; it is dry and pebbly like lizard skin. It's how I can tell her apart from Laveau, by the nose, since they're both black. One of Gracy's nicknames is "The Cheez." I don't even remember how she became known by this moniker, but she will answer to "cheez" or "cheez wizard."

This entry has made me miss her; I may have to call Barb and ask for a visit this weekend!