[nabs-l] 5 Reasons Why Guide Dogs Are a Terrible Idea!

[Joe]

In the interest of tipping my hand to more traditional posts concerning
guide dogs, I'll share an older article I wrote in the months after I put my
first guide dog to sleep three years ago. I linked to this piece from this
most recent article, which people could have clicked and seen my balanced
view for what it is, but alas, I know it can be too much work. LOL I'm
kidding.

Anyway, here's the text:

Honestly, I was not fully convinced I'd get a guide dog until I actually set
foot on The Seeing Eye campus. Now don't take that personally. I was worried
about getting a bad match or a great match with a fruity name like Squiggles
or Pumpkin or some
such nonsense you sometimes see come out of guide dog schools, and was I
really ready for the responsibilities of a trained dog? I think I also
feared becoming one of those obsessed guide dog owners who sign their
e-mails with their dogs' names.

You were the perfect match from the beginning. I have never met and doubt I
will ever meet another dog named Gator, and when I was informed you were a
German shepherd, I just about squeaked like a schoolgirl, if you can imagine
a squeak coming from my otherwise monotone self. You were the largest dog in
the class, as regal as you were stubborn, and when I learned halfway through
our training that I was your last hope before they dropped you from the
program on account of your strength, I knew it was destiny.

People sometimes have a hard time believing the stories. They can believe
you survived the white water rapids in Colorado. They can believe you were
intelligent enough to pull me out of the path of an oncoming train. They
become a little skeptical when I tell them that during that aforementioned
Colorado trip; you nonchalantly climbed up a vertical wooden ladder like a
common monkey. But some have a hard time believing that you were clever
enough to toss your head so as to catch your bell collar in your mouth, the
better to get into the trashcan without being heard. It's too bad you never
failed to knock over the can and give yourself away, and I haven't worked
out how you planned on eating around the bell even if you had succeeded.

That isn't to say we didn't have our rough spots. The day you casually
relieved yourself in the airport was not amusing. Once could have been
chalked up to nature. Twice was suspicious, and after the third I had to
think long and hard about whether I really wanted you to travel with me down
the street, let alone across the country. I knew you weren't a healthy boy.
It's something I accepted and dealt with, but sometimes, I wondered what I'd
done to deserve your wrath. Did you really have to sneak a dead bird into
the apartment?

I'm sure others would have their own stories of woe. Somehow, I don't think
my college debate squad completely forgave me for keeping their suits in a
perpetual state of dog fuzz while at tournaments. The lady whose fries you
snagged while guiding me through a restaurant did not share your high
opinion of your so called stealth.

There are other stories, but why embarrass you. Or rather, why embarrass
myself, since somehow I doubt you felt an an ounce of remorse for the stunts
you pulled. It's too likely to generate questions about whether I was a bad
handler or you were just a bad dog. You were an independent spirit. That's
why you had to pretend to give it a shot with the first two blind students
before you got to me. And me, I wouldn't have changed anything about you.

It's now been almost three months since you left. I'm not as likely to break
down the way I did in the week after I had to put you down, but part of me
still listens for the familiar sound of your collar jingle, the distinct
rhythm of your paws and the contented sighs/groans that made taking you to
class so entertaining for the unsuspecting professors. Part of me still
plans on waking up early to let you out, because your bladder was always
more sensitive. Part of me forgets that it's no longer necessary to round up
all the medicines at feeding time, but as seemingly easier as things are
now, I would do it all over again. It's at these times of remembrance that I
can't help but feel that my agony of your loss is as fresh as if it had only
happened yesterday.

We found out about your cancer on a Wednesday morning. I tried to ignore the
grim reality that the vets only gave you a few days, but if a few days is
what you had, then a few days is what I was willing to give you. Only, you
got worse. Maybe it was knowing what the problem was that made your slow
walk and lethargic spirit more pronounced. Regardless, I hated to see you in
such a state, and I hope the walk off leash through the woods and McDonald's
meal in some measure made up for our having to finally take you to the vet
that Thursday evening. I now know it was the right thing to do, or as right,
as such a thing can ever be. I just hate that after walking through those
woods, your last memory had to be of a hospital room.

My last memory of you is of your head on my lap. You were so brave. I think
you knew what was going to happen, and you faced it head on in much the same
way you jumped into the raft to face those crazy rapids. I think it's this
memory that will help me face obstacles in the years to come. You may have
shied away from firecrackers, and the sound of popping the air bubbles in
those packing strips drove you nuts. Yet, in the end you more than rose to
the challenge of moving on with a highest degree of dignity.

Random thought, but do you remember the time you ate a whole pizza? I was so
astonished to have found the pizza box knocked from the table with nothing
but crusts left. Oh, you had a good habit of working my nerves at times, but
that was one of the times I couldn't help but laugh at your cleverness.
Perhaps it was payback. If you couldn't get away with trash hunting, then by
golly you'd go for the Pizza Hut!

Thank you for showing me another side to nature. I always knew dogs were
intelligent, but never in my wildest dreams did I believe I could ever be so
incredibly attached to a creature. Thank you for helping me navigate crazy
streets and even crazier train stations. Thank you for being a constant
companion and for randomly coming up and resting your head on my lap when
you knew the comfort was welcomed. Thank you for walking one more time
around the block on the afternoon I knew it would be over. You were slower,
more cautious, but your work ethic was as steady then as it was the first
time I took you around the track at The Seeing Eye. I haven't decided about
going back for another dog, but regardless, no dog will ever replace the
beauty that was you.

Find us a good house up there. Be a good boy, and enjoy your new life as a
healthy dog that will never need pills or shots to be at peace. We miss you
down here. We'll be along later, and then we'll see if you're still up for
another round of tug of war.

"God be with you till we meet again."

June 20, 2002 - January 19, 2012