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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-US link=blue vlink=purple><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal>1,983 <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>We Meet<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>In July of 1968, I found myself in a quiet library room cum lounge at The Seeing Eye Inc. I sat straight-backed in the large armchair to the right of the piano as I waited. My <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>long dark hair was drawn around me like a protective cloak reaching almost to the hem of my pink mini dress. I attempted to take deep even breaths and keep my hands folded quietly in my lap as I listened to the measured footsteps of the man accompanied by the click of claws coming from the hall past the nurse’s office. Tammy was here. I reviewed what I had been told last night. She is fifteen months old, a black Labrador, weighs seventy pounds and is 24 inches at the shoulder. Her eyes are amber. She was donated to the program by a hunting dog raiser. They entered the room where I anxiously waited and I heard the rhythmic thump of the dog’s tail against the man’s legs.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>His quiet voice commanded, “Sit, down, rest.” Then he came toward me alone and handed me a slimy piece of calf liver. In those days, the dogs were still being fed a mixture of raw horsemeat and dry kibble. Once a team left the school, the dogs were switched to a mixture of canned and dry dog food. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>“Call her to you and give her the treat,” he instructed. I held out my hand with the grisly offering on my palm and called to her. She bounded across the room and the tail that had stopped wagging while she was in the down stay position began to beat against the side of my chair. An eager tongue licked my hand and wrist ignoring the proffered liver while a curious cold nose nuzzled my knees and explored my hands and arms. After several more attempts to get her to accept the tidbit, Mr. Boeke, my instructor took it and she deigned to eat it from his hand. He explained that this particular dog was strongly attached to him and he was going to refuse eye contact or to speak to her from now on so that she would transfer her love to me. He instructed that I should mix her food with my bare hands to transfer my scent to it. His gentle voice went on to say that dogs like this one were slow to give their loyalty, but when they did, they were more deeply bound to their handlers than ones who seemed to love everyone. He handed me the leash to clip to her collar and said to take her to my room. Since I didn’t have a roommate, I should allow her to explore off leash. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>“She doesn’t have the same experience of living in a home that our other dogs have had through our 4H puppy raiser program. She came directly from the kennel at one year and went straight into training as a guide. So let her do as she likes and get acquainted. Don’t give her any commands. Just pet and play with her and I’ll come back to take her out to relieve her around four thirty.”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Rising from my seat, I shook back my hair. I moved toward the door to the girls' wing of the dormitory with the leash in my left hand. Tammy pranced at my side thumping me vigorously with that heavy otter tail which was to be a part of my life for the next several years.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>When we arrived at my door, the first one on the right, I led her inside and closed it. I unclipped the leash and then the tornado hit. A large black dog raced around the room as rapidly as her paws could carry her on the slippery tiled floors. She darted into the adjoining bath and I heard her scramble into the tub and jump out again. She paused to sample the cool water in the porcelain toilet bowl. I dashed into drop the lid. She jumped on me and grabbed my hand in her mouth giving it a quick chew and was off again. I got up from the floor where her exuberance had landed me. My tumble was softened a bit by the heap of towels that had somehow been pulled down from the towel bar. I heard the clatter as objects fell from my dresser. Hurrying out to see where the whirlwind was, I was startled to be licked in the face as a dog flew past my shoulder from the top of the chest of drawers. As I scrambled to retrieve my brush comb and other small articles from the floor, I could hear the dog leap onto one bed and then the other followed by play growls and thumps. I jumped to my feet and tried to figure out what she was doing now. A flying furball hurtled off the bed dragging pillow and spread with her. Remembering Mr. Boeke’s admonition not to give her commands, I called her name hoping to catch hold of Tammy and try to calm this storm with a few gentle pats and soft words. No such luck, the whirlwind knocked me to the floor again and chewed my arm from wrist to shoulder while pounding the side of the bed and dresser with a madly beating tail. She then raced around the room once more. This continued for the next hour and a half. Each time I called her name she leapt up to knock me down and chew my hands wrists and arms until I was soaked with dog saliva, winded and bruised. Tammy then raced off for another attack on towels, pillows and bedspreads. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Finally, I heard the longed for quiet knock on the door signaling that my instructor was back. I struggled to my feet and snatched the leash from the doorknob. I clipped it to the panting black dynamo that had followed me to see who was there. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>“I have come for your dog Miss Smith,” came the quiet voice. All I had energy to reply was a heartfelt, “Thank God!” As he moved away, with Tammy walking sedately beside him, he chuckled and responded, "I will bring her back in about ten minutes.” Just then, I wasn’t sure he would find me waiting to receive her.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>I slumped to the foot of my bed and wondered what I had gotten myself into this time. I had always had pets. When I was about six, I had coaxed a yearling buck to venture out from the forest edge to eat carrots from my hand. At nine I got an adult male squirrel to accept treats from me before racing back up his tree to share them with his family. If it had fur or feathers and could be coaxed to trust me with patience and food, I tamed it. Before leaving to attend this class at The Seeing Eye Inc. of Morristown New Jersey, I had spent the last few months of my senior year in high school finding good homes for all my rescued animal dependents. Among my menagerie were two parakeets, a canary, a mynah bird, goldfish, two ducks, a blind rabbit and four small dogs. Mom had nicknamed these four my circus because I had trained them to do a number of tricks. It was always easier to find new homes for dogs if they could at least shake hands, come when called and obey some simple commands. My foursome all vied for attention trying to out perform each other. It seemed a logical decision to apply for training with a guide dog in the summer between high school and my freshman year of college. My stepfather an ex-trucker, now working in construction viewed it as a necessity for my safety. Mom was afraid of large dogs. As a teenager, she had been badly bitten by a German shepherd. I would soon be leaving home to live in a college dorm. I would have to find my way around campus without anyone to help me orient to the unfamiliar environment. Mom conceded that getting a dog guide made sense. My three younger brothers and baby sister just figured that at least they would get rid of their bossy older sister for a month and then I would be out of their hair come fall.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Although my high school had hired a woman to serve as a resource room teacher, she wasn’t qualified to teach the use of the long white mobility cane. I had employed the barge and bang method of getting around at school. I could walk with friends without holding on to them by keeping track of their location by sound. I learned new routes quickly and just went. Of course, a moment’s inattention could land me in a flower bed or slam me into an open locker door. I had a nice collection of bruises. I thought getting where I needed to go was worth being various shades of purple, yellow and green. A good sense of direction and an ability to use my entire body to give me information made it possible for me to operate in my neighborhood, large high school and anywhere else I went a lot. But, I seldom had to cross a street alone or venture into new unexplored places. That would all be changing come fall. Close high school friends would scatter. My loving quarrelsome family would not be there to show me how to find each new class. I would be going out into a much larger more dangerous world. I thought that it would be easier with a friend along, trained to help me deal with all the new challenges awaiting me. As I began restoring my room to rights, I wondered if my decision would work out. Tammy was thin at 70 pounds. She was a lot more dog to control than my four rescued waifs, a Chihuahua, a poodle, a beagle and a terrier mix put together.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'> <span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'> I liked my instructor. His quiet manner didn’t disguise a certain firmness of character or a gentle humor. When we went for a Juno walk, a testing procedure in which the trainer takes the part of the guide dog, he was surprised I had never had white cane lessons. Walking with my stepfather and brothers who were much taller than I had made me a rapid walker. When I had first lost my vision, mom had put me in ballet lessons explaining to my teacher that now that I would be running into things and tripping a lot more, she wanted me to at least do it gracefully. I had been an active child who had never been told that blind girls didn’t climb trees, jump rope or skip and run everywhere. I had good balance and a sense of direction. I loved animals. Although my family had crossed and recrossed the country in a variety of old battered cars, I had never flown on a plane. Flying to New Jersey from California was an adventure I couldn’t pass up. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>I knew that The Seeing Eye was the oldest dog guide school in the country. Dorothy Harrison Eustis had founded the school in 1929. She had raised German shepherd dogs in Switzerland and knew their potential as working dogs. After observing a program in Germany training German Shepherd Dogs to lead blinded World War I. Veterans, she was inspired to write an article describing the German training program that was published in The Saturday Evening Post, When a young blind man from Tennessee named Morris Frank entreated her to train a dog for him, The Seeing Eye was born. Surely the oldest dog guide training school in the country knew what it was doing when choosing to match me with this black whirlwind with teeth and a tail, didn’t they? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:justify;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in'><span style='font-size:10.0pt'>DeAnna Quietwater Noriega<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in'><span style='font-size:10.0pt'><a href="mailto:Quieth2o@socket.net">Quieth2o@socket.net</a><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in'><span style='font-size:10.0pt'>573-544-3511 <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='mso-margin-top-alt:0in;margin-right:67.5pt;margin-bottom:0in;margin-left:.5in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-align:justify'><b><o:p> </o:p></b></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p></div></body></html>