[Critique Group 1] DeAnna's September 2022 submission

[Deanna Noriega]

A Trip Downtown

By DeAnna Quietwater Noriega

 

                Sarah lifted the harness from the knob of the hall closet
door.  Lamia eagerly thrust her silky head through its yoke.  Sarah knelt to
fasten the straps to secure it in place.  She smiled as the small golden
retriever whisked her tail vigorously against her skirt.  She scooped up her
leather briefcase from the hall table and they were off out the door.  Lamia
paused at the top step of the porch and when Sarah murmured forward, they
stepped lightly down the stairs together to the sidewalk.  They moved
briskly down the block swinging smoothly around the Johnson's garbage can,
the Williams's mailbox where it jutted into their path and Tommy Anderson's
tricycle left in the middle of the sidewalk. A casual observer would have
noticed the beautifully groomed golden retriever and the fact that the
slight girl walking beside her had the same shade of red gold hair.  A
trained eye would have noted the synchronized ballet of their movements.
Sarah only knew that with Lamia beside her, she could move freely without
the frustration of catching a cane on gratings and cracks in the sidewalk or
the risk of the cane passing beneath that jutting mailbox and allowing it to
hit her shoulder or breast.   Lamia paused at the slight slope of the curb
cut at the corner.  Sarah reached to stroke a satiny ear, listened for the
start up of parallel traffic and gestured forward.  The two began to cross
the intersection.  Three steps into the street, Lamia slid to a stop, backed
several steps and a car whizzed around the corner without stopping.  Sarah
bent to hug Lamia before they continued across the street.  Four blocks
later, Lamia swerved to show Sarah that they had reached the bus stop
shelter.  Sarah, said "Good girl."

                After leaving the bus at the downtown terminal, Sarah needed
to walk six blocks with a couple of changes in direction to find the Holly
Office Complex.  As she moved along the sidewalk Lamia stopped to allow a
delivery van to back out of a driveway.  Sarah reacted to the movements of
her dog without thinking, keeping her mind on the block count. She mentally
confirmed her location by noting when they crossed the railroad tracks, the
bakery on the corner of an intersection and the sound of the large open area
of a parking lot just before the solid presence of the office building she
was seeking.     

                Sarah remembered that there was a restroom off the lobby
from her trips to see her dentist.  His office was on the fifth floor at the
end of the hall to the right as you left the elevator.  Since the suite of
offices she wanted to find was a lower number, she guessed it would be to
the left if the layout was the same on each floor.  First though, she had
better take care of some job interview preparation.  As she crossed the
large open lobby, she suggested "Left?  Left?"  Lamia bore to the left and
they entered the corridor that held the elevators.  Sarah moved past them
and asked, "Door?"  Lamia stopped and lifted her head to point her muzzle at
the handle of a door.  Sarah reached up to read the Braille sign.  Yes, this
was the ladies room.  She hurried inside after a quick word of praise for
her clever companion.  It wouldn't do to allow her job interview nerves to
stimulate her bladder once she went upstairs!  Lamia moved quickly to the
handicapped stall.  Sarah hung her briefcase by its shoulder strap on the
hook inside the door.  Patted Lamia for her cleverness and closed the door
of the stall.  She clipped Lamia's leash to the grab bar instructing her to
lie down and rest.  After leaving the stall, Lamia moved over guiding Sarah
to the sink, when Sarah asked her to find it.  Sarah filled a folding bowl
from the tap washed her hands. She removed a sticky roller brush from her
briefcase, ran it over her suit jacket and skirt while Lamia drank.  Sarah
dried the folding bowl with the paper towel she had used to dry her hands.
She tucked the bowl into a pocket of her briefcase, renewed her lipstick and
ran a comb through her hair.  "Trash," said Sarah.  Lamia moved over and
placed her nose on the waste basket.  Sarah deposited the used towel and the
strip of gummed paper she had used to brush off dog hair from her clothes.
Then the two returned to the hall.  Lamia showed Sarah the elevators and
stepped daintily to the button panel when Sarah asked her to find it.  As
she waited for her interview in the reception area, Sarah mused over the
events of her trip downtown.  If it weren't for Lamia, she would be a
nervous wreck by now.  Clanking into things as she made her way down the
block, anxiously straining to be sure it was safe to cross streets.  Then
having to search for doors, grope each space between elevator doors for the
elusive call button.  Trailing walls to find the restroom.  Having to fumble
around the restroom to locate the sink, stall and trash can, all would have
taken there toll.  If there had been anyone around observing this searching
for things, she would have had her confidence further diminished by the over
solicitude of strangers who would interpret her searching maneuvers as
helplessness.  Lamia's quiet presence calmed Sarah, made her smile.  She
could relax about the small stuff and focus on preparing herself for the
interview.  She could concentrate on her route and not have to be alert to
every sound scent and clue to her surroundings to feel safe.  Lamia and
Sarah made a pretty good team. Lamia had been trained to obey a small set of
basic instructions and to use intelligent disobedience if the commands she
was given were likely to place her handler at risk.  Sarah had taught her
other word cues to make her life simpler.  Of course she needed to take
Lamia's needs into consideration when planning her day.  Taking her out to
relieve four times a day, feeding and grooming her took time and effort.
She needed to carry extra dog related things with her and be more aware of
keeping dog hair off her clothes, but in Sarah's mind the trade offs were
worth it.  If this company didn't hire Sarah, then she had confidence that
another one would.   

 

 

DeAnna Quietwater Noriega

Cell: 573-544-3511

Email:  <mailto:dqnoriega at gmail.com> dqnoriega at gmail.com

Author of Fifty Years of Walking with Friends

https://www.dldbooks.com/dqnoriega/

 

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