[Critique Group 1] Fwd: August piece for critique

[tuchyner5 at aol.com]

Forwarded for Deana.


-----Original Message-----
From: Deanna Noriega <dqnoriega at gmail.com>
To: Tuchyner5 <Tuchyner5 at aol.com>
Sent: Tue, Aug 21, 2018 6:48 pm
Subject: August piece for critique



I did cut the last chapter in half ending it at the point when I left Tammy with Doris. Chapter 17 dealt with her death my poems and now we are ready for Chapter 18

Chapter 18.

Successors

 

Curtis and I spent two and a half years in Western Samoa. Together, we built Alafa Mua,(first guiding light, in Samoan) the first school for blind children in that part of the world. We devised a code for writing the Samoan language in braille. We began work to produce a braille Bible in the Samoan language, built a program to teach blind adults to cane furniture. We saw the first student move from our school to attend a main stream high school. We adopted one of our students and brought him with us when we returned home. Our first child was born six weeks before we flew back to California.

Because I was a new mother with a ten-year old blind son and an infant daughter, I didn’t go to train with a new dog upon our return.

 

We chose to settle in southern Oregon. We bought a small house near Grants Pass next to Curt’s grandparents. He got a job as a volunteer coordinator in the welfare office and I decided to be a stay-at-home mom. It wasn’t until funding for Curt’s position was running out that I applied to the Seeing Eye for my second dog. I needed to be able to get back into the workforce.

 

Many factors go into the matching process when a blind person and a guide dog are brought together to form a team.  The temperament, walking speed, strength and the life style demands of the handler are all weighed against the potential guides available in the pool of dogs that have completed training.  It is easy to lose your heart to these beautiful, intelligent canines. 

Teddy was a huge golden retriever, with a gentle spirit.  He came to live with us and be my guide dog when my daughter was seventeen-months old.  When I brought Teddy home from The Seeing Eye Inc., there were times that I wondered how I would ever get anything done between changing diapers and brushing out long silky acres of golden fur.  Teddy thoroughly enjoyed Angie's company and allowed her to drag him around by his collar.  They were such good buddies, that once when I called him, I heard a whimper.  Thinking that perhaps he had been trapped in another room by a door swinging shut, I went to investigate.  There he stood in the kitchen pressed against the counter.  My not-so-angelic Angelyn had convinced him to be a climbing structure and was standing on his broad back making a raid on the cookie jar.  Teddy was afraid to move for fear of dropping her.  I also noticed that he didn't wag his feathery tail whenever his small playmate stood in close proximity to his hindquarters. I think he didn’t want to hit her with it.

               

Christmas was fast approaching.  A friend offered to take us shopping.  I placed Teddy in a down-stay at the bottom of a shelf full of dolls and toys.  When I had made my selections, I gave a tug on his leash and he lumbered to his feet.  A startled shopper shrieked; she mistook his luxurious pale blond coat for plush and assumed he was a stuffed dog and part of the display.  We went to Payless drugs next.  I placed my daughter into a shopping cart.  A store employee dressed as a snowman started toward us to give my baby a candy cane.  Child and dog took one look and both let out yelps of fear.  Next, we stopped at the grocery Store. After completing that errand, we stowed the groceries in the trunk and I bent to fasten Angelyn into her car-seat.  A person dressed up as a loaf of Wonder Bread approached to give us a Twinkie the Kid ring.  Teddy took one look and bolted into the car to cower on the floor.  My friend decided we deserved a break from cooking.  She suggested we stop for a pizza.  Imagine my chagrin, Debby chose to take us to Grizzly Bear Pizza.  You guessed it, a person dressed as a grizzly bear came out to greet us.  Angie threw herself out of her high chair head-first into my lap and Teddy tried to hide his eighty-five pound frame under my feet.  I struggled to calm baby and dog exclaiming, "It's just a big doggy!”

My savvy daughter shouted "No doggy! Bear!  Teddy wasn't convinced either. With a big blonde furry playmate like Teddy, is it any wonder my daughter’s favorite toys were Teddy bears?  

                It broke my heart to watch this wonderful dog begin to lose confidence.  He started getting car sick each time we drove into town.  He began trembling at sight of his harness.  Sometimes it took ten minutes for us to cross the street, because he became afraid to leave the curb unless the cross walk was empty.  He stopped to show me each sidewalk grate or crack in the concrete.  If my shoulder brushed a door frame as we passed through, he threw himself down and rolled over to expose his belly, whining in distress.  His desire to be perfect made him so cautious that it was nerve-wracking as my need to get places warred with his fear of making a mistake.  Sometimes, it isn't how smart the dog is or how willing to please, but whether they have the courage and stamina to deal with a world full of challenges and surprises.  It takes a lot of heart to be a guide dog. Despite all the care taken by the training staff, the love and time given by the puppy-raiser, the hard work of the handler to learn to read the dog's signals and the hours of training to bring them to complete forming a bond, the match doesn't work out.  When I had to send this lovely sensitive dog back to his school for evaluation, I couldn't help feeling I had failed him.  It is hard to retire a dog when they become too ill to work.  It is a time of sorrow when a loved companion becomes too old and tired to guide.  When a match doesn't jell into that flawless working team, it is just as heart-breaking.  I will never forget the four months of my life I shared with the gentle giant who was better suited to be a baby's guardian and teddy bear than a guide dog.  Tammy’s trainer, Mr. B., let me know that he agreed with my decision. He felt the big lovable golden would be a better pet for some lucky family with children than a guide dog.  The school keeps a list of people wishing to adopt dogs dropped from the program. The first spot on that list is held for the raiser who worked with the puppy prior to his reaching the age to begin formal guide training. Staff members and volunteers can also adopt career change dogs.

Teddy taught me that I didn't have to be perfect at everything I did. If I gave tasks my best efforts, and they still didn’t work out, then it was time to accept that I needed to try something else.  Sometimes my talents would lead me in a different direction than the one I planned, but I always knew working with a guide dog was the right path for me.

 

 
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