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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-US link=blue vlink=purple><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal>I thought I would get this off early. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='margin-left:.5in;text-align:center;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>h Dark and Lonely Times<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 next part of our story will not be easy to write. Most people can understand the concept of a guide dog assisting a blind person to move freely and safely through a complex world. Dogs after all have been performing numerous tasks for mankind for thousands of years. They have drawn heavy loads across the frozen tundra, protected and driven herds beside their masters. They have helped hunt, guarded homes and property. They have searched for explosives, contraband items and lost individuals. Even the mongrel pet dog has offered his companionship and alerted his owner to danger. I think that what makes the bond between a dog guide and its handler so unique stems from the fact that the members of the team are in continuous proximity. Through good times and bad the dog is the one constant in the life of the blind handler. <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%'>Tammy was intelligent, intuitive and eager to serve. She developed a large working vocabulary of words she understood as commands. I traveled where I pleased, when I pleased because I never walked alone. Her size and alert expression intimidated people. This fact gave me the confidence I needed to ask directions because I felt safe approaching strangers with Tammy at my side. Although she was not aggressive in her own defense, she felt that protecting me from all harm was covered in her job description. The willingness of many dog guides to place themselves in danger to safeguard their blind handlers is phenomenal. <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%'>Tammy performed a full body block, placing herself between me and anyone or anything she thought threatened me. She was fearful of large loud-voiced men, walking sticks, umbrellas or anything resembling a weapon. Such things made her tremble and press close to my side. Yet she faced them down if she thought the threat was aimed at me. <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%'>It is hard to quantify the emotional support a dog guide provides to its handler. Unconditional love is a rare and beautiful gift. Tammy’s sensitivity to my moods, her desire to comfort and her honest affection gave my life balance. The bond between the partners in a working guide dog team is deeper than almost any other relationship in life. Unlike a pet, a guide dog is with her handler twenty-four hours a day. My freshman year of college called on every ounce of Tammy’s talent.<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:1.0in;line-height:200%'><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>When I answered the pay phone outside my door on an October Tuesday, I was startled to hear my mother’s tear filled voice. Dad had lost his job. The company he worked for was going under and my family was losing our home. The house had been part of dad’s employment contract. They were going to load clothes and some household things into three cars and head back to Michigan. Both mom and dad had family living near the Indian reservation set aside for the Saginaw Chippewa Tribe. Although we had lived in California since I was halfway through third grade, they viewed Michigan as home. Mom said they would leave on Saturday. I returned to my room to collapse on my bed in stunned confusion. Tammy came to rest her head on my lap. She vocalized softly. She seemed to be saying, “I am still here. I won’t leave you. I will always love you.” This was one of the things she did when she sensed I was upset. The noises she made in her throat almost sounded like “I love you,” minus the consonants. She seemed to know when I needed to hear it most. <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%'>Our cat-loving friend Curt borrowed a car from his roommate and drove us to the house of my mother’s best friend. I got there in time to give my family good-bye hugs. I tried to reassure mom that I would be okay. I couldn’t give up my dreams of achieving a college education. I couldn’t climb into my brother Rob’s old Chevy Malibu or sing and play with my baby sister in the backseat of mom’s gold thunderbird. I stood waving good-bye while my family started driving the many miles back to their roots on the Isabela Reservation without me. I needed to learn to be a grownup independent woman. Thank God I wasn’t expected to do it alone. A beautiful loving black Labrador/German Shepherd was there beside me. Her glossy coat soaked up many tears over the next few months. Whenever I started to slip into depression or became overwhelmed, my Tammy played the clown and made me laugh or offered comfort through her loving presence. <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%'>My stuffed animals and white bedroom furniture lovingly stenciled with pink roses by my brother Rob had all been sold. Only the few bits and pieces I had taken with me to my dorm room remained to remind me of my childhood. Thousands of miles now separated me from my supportive crazy clan. <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 suppose my Uncle, who had decided to join me as a student at Stanislaus could have been considered my guardian, but the college administration didn’t agree. He was an art student and only five years older than I. We seldom saw each other since he shared an apartment with another male student off campus. He was the closest thing I had to a big brother. However our lifestyles were quite different. <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%'>The art and drama majors I knew seemed to buy into the hyperbole about drug use being the route to self-actualization. Although I have always enjoyed creative people and had many friends who were musicians, actors, or artists, I avoided drug use. I knew that I had suppressed many dark memories from my childhood. I was a strong willed little girl. When my father returned from Korea he had suffered a head injury that caused him to have a tendency toward violence. If I didn’t feel a punishment was justified, I would not yield and a spanking could turn into a severe beating. I felt it unwise to allow those memories free from where I had locked them up. I feared what might escape under the influence of mind-altering drugs. My uncle used more alcohol and Marijuana than I thought wise. As a totally blind girl, I avoided dulling my senses with anything because I thought I needed all my perceptions available to me to function. I had seen the destructive effects of alcohol on family members. Being Native American, I knew that alcoholism was a potential threat present in my genetics. I never criticized others for the choices they made. My uncle was very dear to me and did his best to protect me. He overheard a discussion between some of the girls from my dorm. They thought slipping LSD into a drink and giving it to me would be funny. He put a stop to the plan and warned me to be more careful of friends like them. In his own way he looked out for my well-being. <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%'>There was a serious discussion by the college administration of placing me in foster care. Since I was still a minor and disabled in the bargain, they panicked over who would be responsible for me during holidays or if I became ill. The dormitory closed down during school breaks and suspended food service. My cooking equipment consisted of a toaster and a two-cup coffeemaker my grandmother gave me as a graduation gift. I could walk the mile or so to a small market, but was limited by how much I could carry back with me or store without refrigeration. The authorities were not in favor of my remaining in my room when all the other students left over the holidays. After one of the girls in the dorm caught Mononucleosis and was forced to leave school until she recovered, I couldn’t help worrying what I could do if I got sick. <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%'>Thank goodness for Annie and her family. Her parents went to a lawyer and signed a document stating that they would be legally responsible for me until I turned twenty-one. Annie’s mom reminded me of my maternal grandmother. She was a small gruff woman who chain smoked as she laid down her terms. I was ordered to behave myself and not get into any trouble. <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%'>Sandy, one of the upperclassmen in the room next door asked me home for Thanksgiving. Annie and Cathy invited me to spend part of Christmas break with each of their families. Curt put his bid into take us for Easter. At least I had a temporary reprieve from further intercession by the state or school authorities. <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 grief and fear I felt caused me to suffer migraine headaches. A doctor prescribed a muscle relaxant. I found it harder to deal with the floating sensation the drug induced than the pain of the headache. I couldn’t concentrate on my studies when drugged and feeling giddy. Everything seemed out of control. The only sure things in my life were Tammy’s calming presence, her need for care and her devotion to me.<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%'><b><span style='font-size:12.0pt;line-height:200%'>Quieth2o@charter.net<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p></div></body></html>