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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-US link=blue vlink=purple><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal>Sorry I am running late, but here is my July submission.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Misadve<span style='font-size:12.0pt'>ntures in Morristown</span><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%'><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%'>July in New Jersey can be steamy hot and can have frequent thunderstorms. One day as Tammy and I trudged through a veritable deluge, the rain came down so hard and fast that the streets stopped draining properly. Crossing the road meant wading in water nearly up to Tammy’s belly. As we made our way along the next block, Mr. Boeke called out to turn into a doorway to wait for the rain to let up a bit. I had to ask why as I was already so wet, there seemed no point in sheltering from the downpour. Mr. Boeke’s quiet voice replied, “I can’t see you more than six feet ahead in this stuff.” Unfortunately for him, his glasses didn't come equipped with windshield wipers.<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 returned to The Seeing Eye campus, we squelched out of the station wagon and headed into the building. Mr. Boeke instructed, “Dry your dogs first thing. Hitting the air-conditioned air inside can cause them to catch cold.” Back in our room, I knelt on the floor with chattering teeth. Dripping a puddle from my drenched clothes and hair on the floor, I wondered how I would get myself dried after using up both Tammy’s dog towel and my own drying her. Tammy loved her rub down. I was to learn that a vigorous massage with a bath towel was one of her favorite activities. She snorted with pleasure and rubbed her face into the terry cloth in delight. If it wasn’t raining any longer, when I took her out to relieve her, she dashed back and forth splashing through the deepest puddles she could find requiring me to dry her, when we went back inside the building! <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%'>Tammy’s black coat made her susceptible to the summer heat. Since I suffer dizziness in high temperatures, we soon learned where the drugstore with a soda fountain was located along our route. Mr. Boeke treated me to a coke there when he feared he might have to carry me the rest of the way. Tammy decided she enjoyed lying on the cool tiled floor for a breather. Each time we passed that store, she insisted we go inside. This ability to pattern and locate familiar places was one of the added pluses for me in using a dog guide. Tammy simply paused turning her head and shoulders toward the door. I could then say good girl and either turn in or say no and we sailed on by. <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%'>One of the nicest things about working with Mr. Boeke and all of the staff at The Seeing Eye is that they always treat students, even young ones with respect and courtesy. They never talk patronizingly over your head or assume you are mentally deficient just because you are blind. To people who don’t know you as an individual, a blind person is either perceived as super humanly remarkable or an object of pity. It was so refreshing to be viewed as just another young woman and neither saint nor sinner. I felt that I was being treated as an adult and full participant in forming the partnership that a good dog guide and handler must be to be effective as a team. <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%'> Mr. Boeke had a world of patience for his students but sometimes was short with the public. For example, a woman pushed out of a store on my right and walked into me. There was no time for my dog to swerve us out of her path. Instead of apologizing, she turned to Mr. Boeke and demanded in an irritated voice, “Is she blind?” Mr. Boeke replied, “No, the dog is! That’s why it’s wearing the harness!”<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%'>It might seem odd, but it isn’t performing daily living tasks that is the hardest part of being blind. There is usually a way to accomplish most things independently. It is often the rudeness of the general public that is most wearing on the human spirit of a blind person. By implication, a waiter who asks your companion in a restaurant what you want instead of asking you is indicating that he views you as incapable of choosing for yourself. Sometimes, perfect strangers will feel free to ask very personal questions that they would never ask a non-disabled person. Other times they will assume that your family has chosen your clothes, fixed your hair and cares for all your needs. The idea that you yourself might be a caregiver never occurs to them. They are amazed that you can walk across a room alone or brush your own teeth. It can all be a bit hard to bear. <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%'>When Mr. Boeke took me to the office of Morris Frank, the first U.s. citizen to be trained with a guide dog, I found him to be quite outspoken. I had washed my hair the previous night. It was still damp in the high humidity of a New Jersey summer. I had pulled it back from my face with a soft fabric band that matched my dress and left it unbraided to dry. When I moved past him so that my fellow student could be introduced, it brushed his arm. He remarked sharply that blind girls shouldn’t have long hair. Mr. Boeke rushed to my defense explaining that I kept it nicely. Good thing too, as I had no intention of cutting it. Not only was it fashionable to have long hair, but it was also part of my heritage as an American Indian. Traditionally we only cut our hair when in mourning. I hadn’t done more than keep the ends trimmed in nearly nine years. <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%'>When I was seven years old, my mother’s effort to put an end to my tomboy ways backfired. She invited some little girls over for a doll tea party on our back porch. Unfortunately, the guests brought along some uninvited passengers, head lice. In the battle to rid me of the party crashers, my long braids were cut off for the first time in my life. When I was ten, I decided I was too old to wear braids and begged my mother to allow me to have a permanent. The harsh chemicals burned my hair. My mother was forced to cut it for the second time. In this last summer before entering college, my hair was well past my waist and I couldn’t imagine what it would feel like to manage short hair. Long hair can be worn in so many ways depending on whether you are being casual or need a more elegant look. <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%'> Mr. Frank wasn’t the first person nor would he be the last I would encounter who thought all blind people should do things in the same ways. I found to my surprise, that many blind people thought dog guides were a sign of poor travel skills. They shared the commonly held misconception that the dog led its partner from place to place with little help from the human half of the team. They believed that to be truly independent, a blind person should use a cane. As clever as my dog was, she needed my input to know where we wanted to eventually arrive. Her contribution was to choose the safest route as we walked along.<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 classmates were for the most part college bound students like myself, training with their first dogs, we appreciated the chance to talk with experienced handlers. The older members of the group, returning for successor dog guides had a lot of good information to share with us new to dog guides. We all had much work to accomplish. Since no two dogs will have the same personality or react to the challenges of guiding in quite the same manner, it takes time and effort to learn how each dog communicates what it sees. For example, Tammy was a strong fast walker and anyone paired with her needed to be agile and sure-footed. She was sensitive and eager to please. Her handler needed to be soft spoken and able to do some cheerleading to get the best work out of her. Some dogs were very hard headed and needed firm handling with more strength than I had. Some dogs are slow careful navigators who are cautious about what is underfoot. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:1.0in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'> Tammy liked to anticipate my wishes and plan her route well in advance. She often made decisions about the safest way to avoid obstacles and just flowed smoothly around them. Other dogs chose to stop and allow their handlers to decide what to do about the dumpster left in the middle of the sidewalk. That kind of dog worked well for someone who got easily confused about the direction if they didn’t have landmarks to navigate by. We all worked hard to become familiar with the differing styles of our new partners. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:1.5in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Tammy's excitement over our trips to town led her to make a mistake that proved painful to us both. The door of the utility wagon we rode in on trips into Morristown stood open. Tammy charged forward to jump in for the journey. I was pulled forward hitting my eye on the corner of the car door. The pain was intense and I dropped her leash to clutch at the injury. Mr. Boeke was angrier than I had ever seen him. He jerked Tammy out of the car and administered a double-handed leash correction that caused her to yelp. She never did such a thing again. In our years together, I seldom ever needed to give even a light snap and release of her leash. A verbal reprimand was sufficient in most cases to remind her of her duties. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:2.0in;text-align:justify;text-indent:.5in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>The class enjoyed a lot of high-spirited camaraderie and teasing. <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%'>The other full instructor Mr. Arenas played a trick on two of us out at park. Four times a day, we took our dogs outside and allowed them to circle around us to find the right spot to relieve them. Mr. Arenas told a classmate and me to move further apart. We were so busy talking, that we didn’t respond. He quietly moved over and unhooked our leashes reattaching them to each other’s dog. When I called the dog on my leash to me and slipped her harness on, I was so oblivious that I didn’t notice the switch. I picked up the harness handle and ordered the dog to take me back inside. She started off to lead me to the steps up to the dormitory hall. Alan Dalton was startled when the dog on his leash made a determined effort to drag him after us as we departed. Mr. Arenas laughed and instructed us to touch our dogs. I will never figure out how I could have missed noticing those pointed shepherd ears, when I harnessed Ellen. I think it was then that I knew for certain that Tammy wanted to be my dog. She wasn’t about to let another dog walk off with her girl. <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%'>The executive director invited us to his home for a picnic and swim in his pool. Tammy didn’t approve of my getting into the water without her. She vocalized loudly trying to convince me that disappearing under water was dangerous. I later discovered that she really disapproved of swimming for herself as well. <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%'>My serious quiet instructor surprised us with an imitation of a cat and dogfight one evening so realistic, that several of us had to correct our dogs for getting excited. This was part of learning that when in harness, they were expected to be on duty and ignore other people, animals and noises. <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%'>Tammy’s ability to put one ear up shepherd-like, when excited certainly didn’t stop her from being a thorough retriever. One afternoon as we walked across a street, I felt her dart forward and I heard the squawk of a pigeon and the flutter of its wings. I immediately ordered “Out!” forcing her to drop the frightened bird. Before we could leave the street, a man exuding alcohol fumes caught the pigeon and tried to give it back. He kept slurring, “She caught it. She ought to be able to keep it.” I hurried off leaving my poor instructor to explain why I didn’t want my friend to catch complacent feathered pedestrians. The lesson must have taken, because some years later Tammy and I walked through an aviary and several pigeons landed on her back and head. She totally ignored them and only shook her head when one tried to perch on her muzzle. <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%'>Our training days were coming to a close and we were getting ready to begin the rest of our lives as a team. There would no longer be a quiet man trailing us by a few yards to intervene with a suggestion or explanation. We would have to face the challenges of learning our way around and handling anything the streets could throw at us with only our combined wits to help us problem solve. Of course, we could always count on the training staff to be available to receive a phone call with a question. Or when necessary, the school might send someone to help us work out anything that proved too much for our combined intelligences. From now on though, we would need to depend on each other to figure out garden-variety travel problems. <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><o:p> </o:p></p></div></body></html>