<html xmlns:v="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:vml" xmlns:o="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" xmlns:w="urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:word" xmlns:m="http://schemas.microsoft.com/office/2004/12/omml" xmlns="http://www.w3.org/TR/REC-html40"><head><META HTTP-EQUIV="Content-Type" CONTENT="text/html; charset=us-ascii"><meta name=Generator content="Microsoft Word 14 (filtered medium)"><style><!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;}
@font-face
{font-family:Tahoma;
panose-1:2 11 6 4 3 5 4 4 2 4;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman","serif";}
a:link, span.MsoHyperlink
{mso-style-priority:99;
color:blue;
text-decoration:underline;}
a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed
{mso-style-priority:99;
color:purple;
text-decoration:underline;}
span.EmailStyle17
{mso-style-type:personal-compose;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";
color:windowtext;}
.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif";}
@page WordSection1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in;}
div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}
--></style><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:shapedefaults v:ext="edit" spidmax="1026" />
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:shapelayout v:ext="edit">
<o:idmap v:ext="edit" data="1" />
</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-US link=blue vlink=purple><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'><span style='font-size:12.0pt'>Chapter 25<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;text-autospace:none'><span style='font-family:"Tahoma","sans-serif"'>Singing Shepherd Boy<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>Whenever I am frightened by circumstances or situations I land myself in because of my blindness, I think of the lyrics of a Rogers and Hammerstein song.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Tahoma","sans-serif"'> </span><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>When you walk through a storm<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>Keep your chin up high<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>And don't be afraid of the dark.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>At the end of the storm<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>Is a golden sky<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>And the sweet silver song of a lark.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>Walk on through the wind,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>Walk on through the rain,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>Though' your dreams be tossed and blown. Walk on, walk on<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>With hope in your heart<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>And you'll never walk alone,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>These words probably mean something different to me, because for all of my adult years, I have shared my journey through life with a Seeing Eye guide dog. I haven’t had to face the world alone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-autospace:none'><span style='font-family:"Tahoma","sans-serif"'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-indent:.5in;text-autospace:none'><span style='font-family:"Tahoma","sans-serif"'>Sixteen days after I held Griffin in my lap as he crossed the rainbow bridge, I moved like a zombie through my days. My heart held a new paw-print nearly as deep as the first one placed there by living with and loving Tammy. Although each dog added a new impression of his or her own, some were deeper than others. Tammy was the deepest because she was my first guide and was so quick to learn new tasks that she seemed to read my mind. Phoebe did her job with such joy that she was a pleasure to work. Gentry was hard-headed, but a deep thinker and problem solver. Griffin was funny, loving and totally devoted to me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-autospace:none'><span style='font-family:"Tahoma","sans-serif"'>When I arrived in Morristown for the seventh time, I was not ready to let go and accept a new partner. I was still in the gray desolation of grief. Olsen was also struggling with loss. His trainer had been severely injured on the job about a month earlier. A large Labrador had crashed in to Rick in the play yard causing damage to his knee. Rick’s string had been divided among the rest of his team to be finished for class. Olsen had transitioned from his puppy raiser to a trainer. Then he had suddenly lost the man he had come to care for and been passed around like a foster child from one trainer to another. On the first night he was in my care, he kept rising from his mat beside my bed to touch my cheek with a cold nose. He seemed to be trying to reassure himself I was still there and hadn’t abandoned him while he slept.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-autospace:none'><span style='font-family:"Tahoma","sans-serif"'>Olsen was slightly larger than Griffin. He was a solid black German Shepherd with a tan belly and legs. He had a half moon of tan on his throat. He was stockier than most German Shepherds with a serious focused dignified manner. His pace and pull were good matches too. He quickly transferred his devotion to me and our training went smoothly. He was especially sensitive to the feelings of those around him. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-autospace:none'><span style='font-family:"Tahoma","sans-serif"'>When we went to a nursing home during part of our training, he wanted to go toward people who were afraid of him. He appeared to want to comfort them, not realizing that his totally black face and dark brown eyes were intimidating to people. They couldn’t read his gentle nature and only registered the erect head and upright ears. Griffin weighed about five pounds less, but his face was appealing and expressive. People often asked if he was a puppy. Olsen carried himself with dignity and aloof professionalism. He quickly settled in to my work routine. We smoothly strode the halls of the state capital. He glided through the crowds at town-hall meetings and rallies. His intimidation factor was a big asset in parting a path in or out of congested corridors. Gentry’s size had caused some to ask if he was a Rottweiler and Tammy’s protective behavior had sometimes made people wary of her, but Olsen didn’t have to do anything but stare straight ahead to cause people to step back. This was sad, because he was a great worker and had a gentle soul.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-autospace:none'><span style='font-family:"Tahoma","sans-serif"'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-autospace:none'><span style='font-family:"Tahoma","sans-serif"'>In the first week we were back from training, I had to go to an unfamiliar hotel to give a presentation on volunteerism. in the center of the lobby of the hotel where my talk was to be held, was a U-shaped arrangement of furniture. I knew that the room I needed to locate was in a corridor leading off the back of the lobby. Olsen walked straight ahead and I found my path blocked by a long sofa. Since I didn’t know that we had entered a horseshoe and were now at the bottom of it, I told Olsen to “Find the Way.” He looked right and left but couldn’t see a logical direction to move. He stepped confidently up on the sofa and glanced back as if to say, “Ok, hoist up your skirt and follow me over this barrier!” Of course, when I pulled him down, he quickly decided to backtrack around the end of the obstructing furniture and line us up to enter the corridor I was seeking.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='text-autospace:none'><span style='font-family:"Tahoma","sans-serif"'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-autospace:none'><span style='font-family:"Tahoma","sans-serif"'>Olsen’s true gentleness was only displayed when he sensed people needed a warm friendly dog as a comforter. In the fall of 2007, I attended a first meeting of a support group that was being organized under the auspices of the Lutheran Church. Another graduate of the Seeing Eye hoped to establish a once a month blind outreach program to assist people experiencing vision loss. Several Lutheran Congregations in Columbia agreed to prepare and serve lunch on a rotating schedule. Priests from participating churches provided a short devotional and prayer session. I was asked to give a presentation on new technology, or a technique for accomplishing a task as a blind person.</span><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'> </span><span style='font-family:"Tahoma","sans-serif"'><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>During the course of the first meeting of Circle of Friends Lutheran Blind Outreach, I noticed a young woman across the room who spoke in a staccato agitated manner. When the group was beginning to disperse, I crossed the room to kneel on the floor at her side. She had indicated an interest in acquiring a guide dog. I asked if she would like to meet my dog. My fear inspiring German Shepherd Dog Olsen, laid his head on her lap. As she began to stroke his head, she burst into tears. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>“When will I stop being afraid?” she sobbed. “When will this get better?” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>She had lost her vision two years earlier. In a matter of three months, she went from twenty-twenty vision to able to see only a small slice of the world out of the corner of one eye. She had dropped out of college in her senior year and began the long arduous process of adjusting to vision loss. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>I gave her my contact information, and took hers. I made time to take her to several events and invited her to my home. I tried to be receptive, nonjudgmental and to involve her with others. Slowly she overcame some of her fears and began going out of her apartment on her own. She joined a couple of disability activism groups. She took part in public speaking on behalf of the disability community. She started writing again and got a poem published in the anthology, <i>Blindness Isn’t Black </i>produced by VSA Arts of Missouri. The title was chosen from one of the lines of a poem I also got accepted in to the book. She moved into a larger more convenient apartment in preparation for training with a guide dog. Perhaps she was still afraid sometimes, and discouraged at her slow acquisition of adaptive skills, but she began to understand that anything worth achieving takes the time it takes. She became more confident and began to spread her wings. She went to train with her own guide dog. I gained too by our friendship. If this is a success story, then it is more hers than mine. She overcame crippling fears more disabling than her blindness. She returned in equal measure anything I was able to give. Olsen paved the way by sensing her fear and pain and offering his affection and sympathy. I think it would have been harder to establish trust and open honest communication if Olsen’s natural gifts as a therapy dog hadn’t encouraged my young friend to open up to us.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>Following is my poem that appeared in the VSA anthology:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>Blindness From the Inside Looking Out<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>(First published in 2009 in the VSA of Missouri anthology <i>Blindness Isn’t Black, an Anthology of Work By Missouri Writers and Artists Who Have Disabilities)<o:p></o:p></i></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><i><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'> </span></i><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>My blindness isn't black.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>I don't wander the world in darkness.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>Sometimes it is silver, </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>Intense shimmer makes my eyes water.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>It is motion in mist,</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>Swirling indeterminate movement.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>Something lurches at me,</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>Then slides away in stealthy retreat.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>Colors are in my mind,</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>The motion only an illusion.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>Someone stands before me</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>And I know where walls and doorways are.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>This is facial vision.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>The day came when the pain was too much.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>They took away blind eyes,</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>I wondered if I would still know things.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>Would I now be blinder?</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>Would I lose my sense of surroundings?</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>After the pain was gone,</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>The vision of the mind still remained.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>Now I walk through my world, </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>Beautiful big brown eyes looking out,</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>Non seeing prosthetics.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>I know where you and the doorway are, </span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>The room is long and narrow.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>I don't live in darkness.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>I don't require eyes to see you</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>My blindness isn't black.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>My eyes still tear up at the brightness.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>They don't see like plastic.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>They still watch the dancing color show.</span><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center;text-indent:.5in'>The Company We Keep<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>During the 2008 election campaign, I attended a town hall meeting staged in Columbia Missouri. The event was for vice presidential nominee Joe Biden. I was able to take along three<br>co-workers from my office because my husband went to the ticket distribution center<br>in our small town of Fulton. Tickets had all been distributed in Columbia on Sunday<br>night. Only one politician spoke before the senator, Judy Baker who was running for<br>the 9th congressional district.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'> A woman who had jokingly remarked to a friend after seeing Barak Obama speak at the<br>democratic convention in 2004, that if that man ever runs for president, "I<br>will have to get actively involved in getting him elected." Four years later, she<br>was leading the introductions. After a short speech and a question and answer session, it was time to work the rope line. Olsen, in his usual manner, <br>slithered through the crowd until we were up against the barrier. Senator Biden<br>moved up and down greeting and listening to people. When he reached the spot where<br>I was standing, my dog was wedged between us against the curtains. Senator Biden<br>took my right hand in his and greeted me warmly, I wished him a blessing on his journey<br>and safe travels. He stepped close, leaned across the barrier to kiss my cheek and<br>give me a hug. He leaned down to stroke Olsen on the top of his satiny head<br>and commented that he once owned a Belgian shepherd and that my dog was beautiful.<br>On the local news that evening, the camera caught Olsen and I moving through the<br>crowd. Once again my Seeing Eye trained dog got me where I wanted to go with grace<br>and security. What's more, because of my handsome escort, we got noticed. Mom was<br>right when she exhorted me to choose the company I keep wisely.<br>No, I didn't tell the senator not to pet my dog; I figured they both deserved the privilege.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>Politically, the chasm between conservatives and liberals was beginning to open up. All civility was rapidly disappearing. I attended town-hall meetings arranged by the democratic senator representing Missouri. Loud aggressive conservatives attempted to shout her down. I was deeply impressed by her courage and grace under fire by hecklers. Olsen stayed quietly under my feet until I rose to depart. Then his focused steady guide work allowed me to leave the venue quickly and safely.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>As our bond grew stronger, he began to give a single loud bark to let me know when someone was standing in the doorway to my office. He also announced to me that someone was approaching me or had called out my name. This quirk caused some distress among those who were already afraid of his solemn focused demeanor. I asked for help from my school and they sent trainers out to work with us, but nothing we tried could convince Olsen that I didn’t need his (waiter alert) bark.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>In the fall of 2009, things came to a crisis when the receptionist at the agency where I worked dashed up to my open office door as I arrived for work. I had put up a large dog crate in the corner of my office in which Olsen remained shut away while I worked at my desk. Since we had just arrived, I hadn’t removed his harness and enclosed him yet. I let go of his leash to put away my purse, briefcase and lunch bag. When Donna stepped into the doorway, Olsen gave his bark and took a couple of steps toward her. I grabbed his leash and began removing his harness and put him in the crate. Later that day, the executive director of the center asked me to come to her office. She said that three of the staff had filed a complaint that my dog was causing a hostile work environment for them and that the receptionist had stated that if she had not removed her hand from the doorframe, Olsen would have bitten her. The director said she was banning him from the office. I was shocked and distressed. My salary was necessary if I was going to be able to contribute to the expenses of our three generational family. I was employed in a state that allowed employers to terminate employees without having to explain why. I had no choice but to retire Olsen.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>He was only four years old and an excellent worker. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>I contacted the Seeing Eye, but they didn’t have anyone in mind that could use him as a guide. My friend Elizabeth offered to take him. She was employed as a hospice worker. Her Quaker Church had no problem with having him attend services with her. She accepted assignments where Olsen could accompany her. His excellent manners and gentle soul made him an exceptional pet therapist. He gently comforted people in pain. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'>Two years in to their teaming up, Olsen suffered a medical issue that left him paralyzed for a time. Elizabeth carried him out to relieve him and as he recovered, helped him to learn to walk again. He returned to work with her and lived another four years. She shared with me many of their adventures. For example, she was visiting someone in the hospital and glanced down when she heard a woman gasp from the doorway of the room. Olsen was sitting patiently while a little girl counted his teeth. She proudly told her mother how many he had. Obviously, no one at my place of work was in any danger from my big black shepherd.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif";color:navy'> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal>To Olsen<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>When I wake, my mind probes the space where you are not. Time and again throughout the day I seek you and find only emptiness. I push the lever on the icemaker and there is no scramble of paws racing to demand a frozen treat. I turn to leave only to retrace my steps in search of that stolid stick, which lurks unconcerned in a corner. I know you are well and with someone who loves you. You haven't been forced from my side by old age or illness. When the time is right, I will see you again. Our paths have divided and there is loneliness in my heart where you dwelt for a time. You made me smile when I was weary. You moved with grace through crowded halls. You raced to bring me your toys with such joyful abandon, Dropping them gently in to my waiting hands. You danced with delight at sight of your harness, eager to take me wherever I wished. Why couldn't I make you understand that your job did not include loud announcements that someone else was seeking my attention? Sometimes, communication across the species barrier proves impossible. Take care of my friend, fill her heart with joy and as always, be you, a dear sweet shepherd boy.<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal style='margin-left:.5in;text-autospace:none'><span style='font-family:"Tahoma","sans-serif"'><o:p> </o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'>Olsen taught me to keep my courage up and to accept the things I can’t change and continue to soldier on even when life gets tough.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'><span style='font-family:"Arial","sans-serif"'> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class=MsoNormal><span style='font-size:11.0pt;font-family:"Calibri","sans-serif"'><o:p> </o:p></span></p></div></body></html>