Seeing Eye - Guiding Light

Today I started my day by sitting on the station platform with my Guide Dog puppy, Kristal, watching trains go by and people embarking and disembarking. I'm a puppy walker for Guide Dogs and today is the start of Guide Dogs Week. A celebration of 80 years of providing guide dogs for people in Britain who are blind or partially sighted.

The idea that dogs could be used, on a large scale, to guide blind people sprang from the experiences of German soldiers trying to locate their blinded comrades in the trench warfare of the First World War, where, like British soldiers, many were blinded by mustard gas. However, there are several much earlier indications and documented evidence of individuals having trained pet dogs as guides going back to the first century AD... in fact there is a depiction of a blind man being guided by a dog in a fresco in Roman Herculaneum. Dogs were being trained to guide blind people at Les Quinze-Vingts hospital for blind people in Paris in 1780. In 1788 Josef Riesinger, a blind seive maker from Vienna, trained his pet dog to guide him so successfully that people doubted he was blind. In 1847, a Swiss man, Jakob Birrer, wrote about his experience of being guided, over a five year period, by a dog he'd trained himself. However, it's from experiences that sprang from mustard gas and the blinding of soldiers in the trenches during World War I that the modern Guide Dog story begins. A German doctor, Gerhard Stalling, treating blinded soldiers at a re-habilitation hospital, observed his own pet dog, untrained and working purely on instinct, clearly guiding a blinded patient. From this, in 1916, sprang the first formal training programme. Soon, there were nine major training centres in Germany providing 600 trained dogs a year for clients in many countries.

In 1927, a wealthy American lady, Mrs Dorothy Harrison Eustis, living in Switzerland, heard of the German successes and went to observe their methods, following this up with an article for the Saturday Evening Post magazine (November 1927). Considering that this might be an answer to his prayers, a blind American man, Morris Frank, wrote to Dorothy encouraging her to think of introducing guide dogs to America. Dorothy Eustis saw this as an opening and trained a dog for Mr Frank who journeyed to Switzerland to work with the dog. Training completed, he returned to America with his guide dog, Buddy. The pair were followed by reporters and photographers convinced that an accident was bound to happen... but no, the partnership was a huge success. Frank was reported as saying that the 5 cents he'd spent on purchasing that magazine was worth a million dollars to him. The Seeing Eye organization was launched in America and encouraged two British women, Muriel Crooke and Rosamund Bond to embark upon their own training programme. This was the origin of guide dog training in Britain. In 1931, the first four British dogs completed their training.

Now, 80 years later, the Guide Dogs Association produces about 1,300 puppies a year. They have just over 5000 working guide dogs. Many more are required. There are over a million people in Great Britain registered blind or partially sighted and of these, over 250,000 would benefit from a guide dog partnership. However, Guide Dogs is a charity and receives no government funding so can only produce the number of working dogs it can support. (Support being in the form of breeding, training, veterinary costs, feeding, equipment etc.) Under the guidance of the 900 or so staff, Guide Dogs is supported by over 11,000 volunteers who take on a wide range of roles such as fundraising, puppy walking, assisting kennel staff, speaking at functions, driving dogs from one end of the country to the other and many more.   

Although training dogs is Guide Dogs main role, many people will be unaware that the organization also contributes a large amount of its funds towards research into eye disease and it is second only to the RNIB as providers of mobility and independence training for blind and partially sighted people with or without a dog.

You never know when you might need the services of an organization like Guide Dogs. We're told we can expect to live longer these days. The problem is that our bits and pieces are wearing out at different rates...  

That said... I think it's walkies time!

   For further information: www.guidedogs.org.uk  
   

A Good Day to Die

Hearing that someone you love is about to die is never easy. It's even more difficult when you're 12,000 miles away and can't get there to say goodbye. There's an overwhelming desire to just see that person one more time.  You cast your mind back to when you last saw them. What did you talk about? Was there laughter? Laughter's good. Did you leave on good terms? Did you wave? A wave is treasured.

Nellie is my aunt. A very close aunt, despite the fact that we live 12,000 miles apart for much of the year. She has no children of her own but lots of nephews and nieces whom she always spoilt rotten when we were little. She's just coming up to her 90th birthday, but I don't think she's going to make it. Last night I received a phone call from my cousin to say that the doctors thought Nellie might only have 24 hours left. They were just going to make her comfortable. Nellie is frightened of dying. I know she is. And especially of dying alone. She's not very good with pain either. I need to tell them this. I need them to know that she won't like it if they close the curtains. That she'll like the television on, even if the sound is off. And she likes her hair brushed... get someone to do that for her. Hold her hand. And let her keep her teeth in, because she hates to be seen without them. She'll want to look presentable. She was always very clothes conscious. And remember, hold her hand.

All my cousins will be with her. She won't be alone, I'm sure. But I should be there. Instead I'm here, 12,000 miles from where I'm needed. I should be the one holding her hand. I'm the oldest niece. I was four when I went to her wedding. She was the aunt who was always laughing. And nothing made her happier than to be surrounded by nieces and nephews. She loved us all.

So now I'm just waiting for another phone call. I can't do anything else from this distance. I'm hoping she'll just drift away... isn't that what we all want? I hope the sun will shine; that she'll gaze out of the window at the clouds floating by and think to herself, yes... this is a good day to die. But I know from experience that it doesn't always work out that way. So now I'm just sitting. Looking at old photographs, remembering happy times. And waiting for the phone call...

   

  

Push-Me-Pull-You

Out walking at the weekend I came across a... well, would you believe it... a Push-Me-Pull-You. There it was, as plain as day, doing much the same as I was, if the truth be known. Just taking advantage of what might well turn out to be the last summery weekend we see this year.  It sat there, minding its own business, soaking up the sun, not knowing quite which way to look under such close scrutiny.

Kristal didn't know what to make of it. Which head should she address? Which way would it run if she dared to spook it?  One small pup could cause havoc in a paddock of Push-Me's if given the chance, so we moved on to bother some badgers. Well, they would have been bothered if they'd been home. Evidence suggested that they'd recently been evicted.

Up in the field, the crop had been harvested and so we were able to stand in the midst of nothingness and soak up the sense of  S  P  A  C  E .  Kristal didn't know which way to run first.

She had a lovely time charging up and down the tracks made by the huge harvester and leaping over the stubble. Whenever I'm in a field like this I'm reminded of the harvesting episodes in Tess of the d'Urbervilles - the back-breaking work; the long hours. And I think of the many paintings of villagers gleaning what they can from the fields once harvest is over. I bend down to assess just how much useful grain I might be able to salvage... and then I wonder what I'd have to do to it before it was any use to me...  and how long would that take me? Yes, there is something to be said for progress... I'm so glad I can just pop down to Waitrose.

Does my bum look big in this?

                             Go on, tell me....  does my bum look big in this?


Don't you just love a dog in uniform? Kristal has her blue and gold Guide Dogs jacket now. I had to shorten it by an inch all along the back to hoist it up a bit. Reminded me of my mother putting HUGE hems on my gymslip and saying, 'Don't worry, you'll grow into it.' I was always conscious of that deep hem. It seemed to signify a particular socio-economic bracket wherein you have to make things last. This trait has stayed with me. I never throw away a garment made from good fabric because one day I'll re-style it into something more up to date. Consequently,  I have a wardrobe full of clothes awaiting renovation and can't find anything that's fit to go.

The jackets the pups wear help to identify them to shop owners and the public. They don't guarantee us entry into places.... that's at the discretion of the owner or manager as only fully qualified Assistance Dogs are legally allowed to enter areas otherwise closed to dogs. We've rarely ever been been refused entry. Most people recognize this important aspect of the training but, occasionally, we have to fight our corner and sometimes accept defeat, despite our best PR efforts. The jackets help to identify the pup as a working dog in training and the public generally know not to disturb the pup. When I give talks in schools I emphasise the point that when the dog is wearing a jacket it's working or training.... the children catch on to this quickly. I liken it to their school uniform. When they're in uniform, they're in learning mode. I sometimes hear children in the street explaining to their mums... 'no, Mummy, it's wearing a jacket so you're not supposed to disturb it.'

Jackets go through various design stages and are constantly being assessed. Some pups don't like anything passed over their heads. Some, especially those with curly hair, sometimes find that the jacket tickles them. Some fabrics or fasteners irritate. If a pup is unhappy wearing a jacket it doesn't bode well for its future when asked to wear a harness, so we have to handle this stage sensitively.

Kristal is now four and a bit months old and showing definite signs of her ability to anticipate and grasp what is required of her in certain situations. When she sees me putting on lipstick or combing my hair... she knows I'm off out somewhere and she definitely wants to be included. The other day I'd put on my lippy and popped upstairs to get something. When I returned, she was sitting on the doormat with my shoe in readiness and her lead in her mouth! Admirable, except for the fact that both these items had been up on the kitchen worktop, supposedly well out of her reach.

Come on.... I'm waiting for you!

We're free running now and Kristal loves it. I take a whistle with me and every now and then practise the RECALL. She's very good. Soon I'll have to free run her in places where there are more distractions. That's always a testing time. I try to stay relaxed, but usually I'm on pins, hoping whichever dog I've got is not going to embarrass me or make me run a mile in order to catch up.

On free runs, Kristal supplements her diet with rabbit droppings which look exactly like her Royal Canin kibble. Probably taste the same as well. So far she's not been tempted by horse poo, but that will come. It always does. When out walking a bridle track, if I see a pile of horse poo ahead, it turns into a bit of a race between me and the dog to get to it first. Shouting 'LEAVE IT', from a distance, has no effect at all. I wish horse riders would give a thought to the mess they leave behind along country roads. I appreciate it's not likely they're ever going to be persuaded to carry poo-bags as dog walkers do, but they could be a little more considerate about where they allow the horse to drop it, surely.
                                        
We've not had many sunny days this summer, but now that Kristal is bigger it's a real pleasure taking her on a longer walk. Not too far, because young dogs have tender bones and joints and damage can be done by over-doing exercise. But she enjoys a walk in the park or cross-country, and chilling out is essential when so much of her training takes place in the busy High Street or station or in shops surrounded by lots of people.

Chilling out.

This is one of the perks of puppy walking. A walk in the sunshine with a young dog who is beginning to respond well -  who enjoys being with you just as much as you enjoy being with her. This is the essential basis of the teamwork that will be required for her future role.

              

A Sequence of Events.

Kristal is now 17 weeks old and asserting herself in many directions... most of which incur a reprimand of one sort or another. She is, however, occasionally demonstrating an acute memory for places (she knows all the local coffee shops) and the names of several toys and will now SIT, STAY, WAIT, DOWN and LEAVE. All of this assumes you've got her to COME in the first place, and this is the stumbling block. Oh, she will come, but in her own good time. And when she does, she flies at you and almost bowls you over.

She's very distracted by creatures beneath the surface of the lawn which she just has to dig her way to. She's also developed a taste for apples and pears that fall from the trees in various stages of decomposition. Her insides must be cast iron because she shows no ill effects from scoffing all manner of unsavoury looking debris. A close inspection of her surprisingly well-formed stools indicates that a small pebble or two (horror of horrors), various parts of my kitchen chair (wood and cane), plastic plant pots in assorted colours, plumage from a medley of birds, remnants of plastic labels... all pass through unhindered. Well, she is a Labrador. I'm hoping that once her new teeth arrive she will become more selective.

I've been buying her a really hard shin bone from the pet shop and when we go to a coffee shop she will sit happily under the table chewing on this bone until the debris from the next table catches her eye.  These bones are not cheap and inadvertently we've left several under the tables at various coffee shops around town as we gather up our medley of toys, leads, jackets, dog bowl, water bottle etc to leave. I just haven't got the nerve to go around asking if I can have my bone back, please.

                                                       Working dog at work.

Gardening is one of Kristal's favourite activities. Seeing me dig is a license for her to dig. I have to choose plants that will survive an increasingly heavy footfall. She loves it when I rake up a pile of cuttings and leaves ready for picking up... it's an invitation to dive on top of the pile and scatter them everywhere.

                             There was no mention of this in my job description!

Her leadwork is coming along well. She will STEADY when I ask her to, slowing her pace to match mine. But she's just too friendly with passersby. She thinks everyone coming towards us is coming especially to greet her. I have to work on this because as she gets bigger it will be less 'cute' for those being greeted. 28kg of Labrador hurling herself at you is not fun. But trying to persuade the general public that they really will be doing Kristal a big training favour if they just ignore her is proving to be difficult.

Last week Kristal set in motion a sequence of events that was both scary and costly.   In a rare quiet moment, when we should have been alerted to the possibility of something untoward happening, but in all honesty we were so grateful for the fact that she was occupying herself without demanding our interaction, she discovered a sliver of wallpaper projecting from the wall and proceeded to see where it would end if she pulled on it. Well, it ended with us having to re-decorate, and that ended with a visit to hospital.  Read on...

Due to Kristal's innate curiosity, we spent three whole days painting a room, having emptied it of bookshelves, books and furniture beforehand. The last thing to be completed was the ceiling, which much coerced husband spent an entire day painting. At 5pm that day we went to John Lewis to buy some new cushions. On our return home we replaced the bookshelves and books and other pieces of furniture. Happy-to-see-the-end-of-the-job husband went into his office to do something on the computer.... e-Bay I think it was. When he emerged a few minutes later he asked, 'Why is all this stuff all over the place?' I replied to the effect that I had not yet got around to replacing everything in the room we'd painted. He asked, 'What room?' Somewhat irritated I responded, 'The room we've just spent three days painting.'  He went into the newly painted room and looked around completely gob-smacked. 'What... you're saying that I painted this room?'

To cut a long story short, he'd completely lost all memory of the three days of painting and the subsequent visit to John Lewis to buy cushions. There was no physical change in him and he could recall names, places and distant events so I was not really considering that he'd had a mini-stroke, although I was looking out for the crucial F.A.S.T. signs (face, arms, speech, time). He was just confused and kept asking the same questions over and over. 'Did I paint this?' And, 'Have we eaten yet?' After we'd eaten he could not remember what we'd eaten. I questioned and questioned him to try to drag memory back. Knowing how much he hates decorating, I thought he was kidding me, and he thought I was kidding him. When we both realized that neither of us was kidding it became a bit scary. By now it was late and we were considering bed. Next morning, he could recall everything perfectly but could not remember the experience of forgetting.


A trip to the GP resulted in an appointment with a specialist. But meanwhile I'd been on the internet and come up with TRANSIENT GLOBAL AMNESIA. The description given matched somewhat-relieved husband's experience exactly. Nothing to do with strokes. Not dangerous. No medication required. May or may not happen again. Often caused by excessive exertion (sex and swimming in cold water were prime examples given), usually affects people in the 50 to 70 age range.

Subsequently the specialist confirmed this diagnosis. He had had a case the day before of a man and wife who were moving house and the furniture was all in the van. The man went back into the house and re-appeared in shock stating that they'd been burgled. He could not remember the fact that they were moving or the packing up process.

So, Kristal's wall-paper stripping sparked a series of events that took us on an emotional roller-coaster. Had we not painted the room, would this have happened? Who knows. Did having his head bent backwards painting the ceiling have any effect on blood flow? The specialist was not convinced of this. So, much to husband's disappointment, he is not let off future painting and decorating chores.

What a strange organ the brain is, and how little we know about it. Wikipedia has a good description of TRANSIENT GLOBAL AMNESIA if you are interested, and there are several case studies retrievable via Google. One of the main features is that, once normal memory has returned, the person affected has no memory of what was said or done during the few hours that this experience lasts.  That means, and the specialist confirmed this, that all cases are reported via a second person. If there is no other person present, the victim/patient may be totally unaware that anything untoward has happened. Which begs the question.... so what if a crime is committed during this period?

Kristal & Marmite

Marmite. You love it or hate it, so they tell us. And Kristal loves it.

Now 11 weeks old, she's just starting to challenge my authority... a bit early for the teenage stuff. I call her indoors and she will sit down at the far end of the lawn looking me directly in the eye... what's in it for me? she's thinking. Well, what's in it for her is a slight smear of Marmite on my finger as a training treat. She loves the stuff. She has her own jar so that I don't find myself double dipping. Yuk! Not too much... just enough so that she thinks she's had something.

Small pups can sometimes choke on a solid treat if they run up to you excited and panting. It goes down the wrong way and can be fatal. Never give a  pup a treat when it's excited or panting. And don't allow it to grab at food. Hold onto the training treat until the pup is composed and calm. Ensure that your pup learns good manners. WAIT is a really useful command for many situations.

In addition to Marmite, Kristal has discovered cobwebs. Yes, she loves them. Licks them up like candy-floss. Someone said cobwebs are made from a protein... must be some flavour in it I guess. It's not something I encourage, but hey, it's difficult to find staff these days.

I know I'm a working dog but gimme a break!

 

Leadwork is coming along well. She's a bit bouncy and wants to run rather than walk, but she's listening to my voice and is starting to STEADY when I use this command and also to WAIT when I pause. When she lunges forward too much I make her stop and calm down before we proceed. Stroking the shoulder is very calming. Eventually she'll learn that if she doesn't walk in a steady manner she's not going to get very far. This is important with a big dog breed because pups don't stay small for long. And once they've put on some muscle you can be in trouble if you haven't already established some discipline by voice. Leadwork takes time and you sometimes have to get out there just as a lesson rather than a walk.... because you know you're not going to get very far. You'll be stopping and starting over and over until the message gets through. Short 10 minute lessons to start with. It's worth putting in this time and effort very early on before going for a walk becomes a test of strength. A dog constantly straining against its collar will not be having much fun, and nor will you.

Keeping Kristal cool hasn't been much of a challenge because, let's face it, the summer has not really arrived yet. But when it is hot it's important to keep pups cool. Forego the trip to town. Hot pavements are very close to a small pup's tummy and so feel even hotter. Kristal discovered she liked to paddle in the washing up bowl. Next stop the River Lea, although in general, Guide Dogs are discouraged from becoming water dogs. It would  be very inconvenient for a blind person if their dog jumped in the pond in the park during lunch break from the office! For the same reason, we have to discourage a dog from becoming obsessive about balls. Balls are a no, no for Guide Dog pups. They're just too tempting.

I heard some Guide Dog pups get to live with people who have a swimming pool!

Kristal had coffee with Kenna, her sister, once again. And they'll probably meet up this weekend too. They're both growing fast. It will be interesting to see whether they remain so physically alike as they mature.

Now, don't ask me which one is which!

  

The River - aros 1

The river has been dry for months.
But now the spring has sprung anew
and soon this tantalizing trickle will
become a torrent... gathered here
on my slightly outdated Dell.