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</o:shapelayout></xml><![endif]--></head><body lang=EN-US link="#0563C1" vlink="#954F72" style='word-wrap:break-word'><div class=WordSection1><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'>A Trip Downtown<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal align=center style='text-align:center'>By DeAnna Quietwater Noriega<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> 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."<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> 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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal> 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. <o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>DeAnna Quietwater Noriega<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Cell: 573-544-3511<o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Email: <a href="mailto:dqnoriega@gmail.com"><span style='color:#0563C1'>dqnoriega@gmail.com</span></a><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal>Author of <i>Fifty Years of Walking with Friends<o:p></o:p></i></p><p class=MsoNormal><i>https://www.dldbooks.com/dqnoriega/</i><o:p></o:p></p><p class=MsoNormal><o:p> </o:p></p></div></body></html>