[Ohio-talk] White Cane Guy guidedogs and white canes

[Marianne Denning]

They probably think the cane can do that too.

On 11/11/14, Tollebooth <tollebooth at yahoo.com> wrote:
> Some people say that Nash matches my clothes for me every day.  They
> probably think he cooks all of the meals that I eat. Thing is if he cooked
> them chances are I would never get to eat him. He would beat me to it.
>
> And by the way, let's not forget that to the rest of the world, blind equals
> retarded.
>
> How ridiculous do the statement. Yet many sighted people firmly believe in
> them.  Sometimes I think they CS as a danger to society at large if you're
> out by ourselves.
>
> Sent from my iPhone
>
>> On Nov 11, 2014, at 1:19 PM, Marianne Denning via Ohio-talk
>> <ohio-talk at nfbnet.org> wrote:
>>
>> David, that is great!  I have a dog and people think the dog takes me
>> to Kroeger, Dollar General...  How can you, a blind man, be let out in
>> the world without, at least, a dog to take care of you?  You know dogs
>> are smarter than blind people.  You are really their pet and your dogs
>> take you out for walks.  I am sure they fix your meals too.
>>
>>> On 11/11/14, David Cohen via Ohio-talk <ohio-talk at nfbnet.org> wrote:
>>> If you enjoyed reading about White Cane Guy I think this is twice as
>>> good.  If you didn't then let Del eat it.
>>>
>>> If ever there was a loaded statement, seeing is believing packs the
>>> equivalent of the funniest Looney Tunes gags.  I’m thinking of
>>> Yosemite Sam in the episode about the singing sword wherein he finds
>>> himself along with the loveably innocent resident dragon inside the
>>> castle turret surrounded with explosives and the dragon’s desperate
>>> need to sneeze fire again.
>>>
>>> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CUCUQJBmpdQ
>>>
>>> Seeing and believing is one thing and it is quick and easy.  Observing
>>> and allowing the facts to be revealed takes time and patience, and
>>> very often that which is revealed needs no words of explanation for
>>> the truth of it is a feeling of knowing.  Or, if any words at all are
>>> spoken the result is an “Oh my God” moment and that’s all folks.  The
>>> question is then, how many times has public education about blindness
>>> resulted in an oh my God moment?  In short, there’s a whole lot more
>>> of them than there is of us, us and them is an expression of division
>>> and when you think you know more about them than they do about you
>>> works both ways and includes so many peopled examples.
>>>
>>> I have two black dogs which I walk routinely.  The elder is Maggie and
>>> she is 100% Labrador and the younger male is Snerdley and he is at
>>> least half Labrador and possibly more as he is always mistaken for
>>> Labrador but his crescent-curve tail, his pinched-short ears and his
>>> twin elongated canine teeth which bow inwards to his mouth leads me to
>>> think he’s got something else in his bloodline...  possibly Burmese
>>> Python or the vampire Lestat.  So when I am asked, and I am very often
>>> asked about the dogs I like to say that I have 1.5 servings of the
>>> recommended daily allowance of Labrador.
>>>
>>> The three of us were out walking as we do at least twice daily and
>>> this particular day is the late afternoon of the Labor Day holiday and
>>> parade.  The parade began at ten o’clock in the morning and finished
>>> by noon.  Now the traffic outside on State Route 48 passes at a
>>> reduced volume like a Sunday evening as opposed to the normal weekday
>>> ever-present and rushing volume one can expect from the most
>>> heavily-traveled road within the state of Ohio’s second largest
>>> suburb.
>>>
>>> The sidewalk on which we are walking is blocked entirely by twin
>>> aluminum bleachers positioned outside the board of education building
>>> two blocks north of my home, and additionally the city has stationed
>>> portable toilets intermittently a few yards from the corners of select
>>> blocks both north and south along the one mile stretch of the parade’s
>>> route.  Years ago when I was passing one such port-o-John and struck
>>> the backside of the molded plastic enclosure with my cane a bit too
>>> forcefully a surprised voice called out from within, “Just a minute.
>>> Occupied.”  The smile that spread across my face had a life of its own
>>> as I recalled how many times I had accidentally knocked the doors of
>>> hotel rooms, apartment doors and cubicle walls at work before I
>>> thought to apply a softer touch in such a situation.
>>>
>>> We circumnavigated the portable toilet stationed on the sidewalk
>>> between my driveway and the nearest corner to my house and I’ve
>>> knocked and identified with my cane the wooden sawhorse barriers
>>> placed in the crosswalk of this first street adjacent to my house to
>>> block any through traffic from entering the parade procession.  My
>>> cane tap echoes the location of the upcoming curb and I sweep for the
>>> wheelchair ramp on the other side and we three step up onto the next
>>> block.  Maggie stops after a few yards to sniff at a routine spot, and
>>> ahead of me I hear a voice and several footsteps and the voice is
>>> rising in volume as it approaches. I realize as the voice draws
>>> closer that it is the voice of a man and walking along with him and
>>> behind him are younger people.
>>>
>>> “Stay to the side everybody those dogs are working” he announces and
>>> as the group of persons passes I exchange neighborly greetings
>>> perfunctorily because it’s important that my primary focus remain on
>>> Maggie who on occasion relieves herself at this spot and I need to
>>> attend my civic duty and pick up if nature calls.
>>>
>>> “Hi. Hello. How are ya.”
>>>
>>> “Hello sir, hi, hi sir” three voices of younger people speak in
>>> passing and I smile but do not take my full attention away from Maggie
>>> who is rooting in the grass to my left at the end of her leash like an
>>> Iowa hog and snorting just as loudly.  This informs me that she is not
>>> thinking of relieving but searching for edibles probably.  If you have
>>> a Labrador of your own or have ever lived with such a dog you know
>>> that no other appetite on earth compares, not even that of
>>> professional athletes injected with HGH and steroids.  I do believe
>>> that if I ever spilled mustard or ketchup onto her that she’d consume
>>> herself into nothingness and find a way of communicating with me
>>> spiritually to beg for something else.
>>>
>>> “Those dogs are working the man tells the kids behind him and I hear
>>> his voice like the informational voice that interrupts television
>>> broadcasts to announce that a test of the Emergency Broadcast System
>>> is taking place, that such is only a test and that if such was not a
>>> test that I would be advised to take shelter and only to Tweet or post
>>> to Facebook if the tornado strikes my neighbor’s home.
>>>
>>> I give Maggie a cursory leash tug to signal to her to come along and
>>> the three of us are walking northwards again.  I have the twin leashes
>>> in my left hand, my cane in my right and keep the dogs always to my
>>> left which took some patience and a lot of repetition to train into
>>> them.  Obviously I cannot have one or both of them crossing in front
>>> of me to my right side to sniff routinely but sometimes they cannot
>>> resist.  Two legs or four, you cannot beat the arc of the cane is what
>>> I like to say, and many times I’ve tickled the pad of a dog foot.  Dog
>>> feat are so cool and especially Labrador duck-style feat.
>>>
>>> The way I went about managing this dog-walking coordination was to
>>> simply use the common stainless steel choker chains so that I could
>>> heel them both quickly with a catch and release tug/signal, and
>>> shorten the length of leash or leashes as necessary – Maggie always
>>> the culprit - without the vinyl cloth collar rubbing and/or holding
>>> uncomfortably against the neck.  This is not at all as cumbersome as
>>> one might think although I do experience times when Snerdley sights a
>>> rabbit or cat and he rockets ahead and will cross to my right side but
>>> I simply stop, reattach my shoulder into the socket joint and think of
>>> something equally as disappointing to myself like the fact that
>>> Chipotle does not deliver in order to quell my guilt for restraining
>>> his nature.
>>>
>>> “I know Snerdley.  I know.  You missed the rabbit.  I love fast food
>>> too but can’t always have it” I tell him and he chuffs at me
>>> disgustedly.  A twin portal blow through his dog nostrils is his way
>>> of dismissing me I’m sure.
>>>
>>> The three of us have been walking together for five years now.  Prior
>>> to engaging this twin walk I would walk one dog and return home to
>>> walk the other but after months of their competitive bickering and
>>> hearing “She always gets to go first,” and “that’s my leash! Why
>>> doesn’t he get his own” I’d had enough and made the change to walking
>>> them syemul-dog-taneously.
>>>
>>> “Now listen you two” I would demand.  “If you do not stop with this
>>> bickering I’ll go myself.  Caine and I are Abel” ha ha ha.  I
>>> routinely engage them with playful language this way as a means of
>>> both annoyance and distraction.
>>>
>>> At present both dogs are pulling ahead strongly to be the first to
>>> capture the next freshest inhalation of oxygen and I pick up my own
>>> pace.  The sidewalk beneath my feat soon begins to slope downward and
>>> informs me that we’re approaching the end of this block.  I mentally
>>> throw my ears forward to the cross-street, the crosswalk and include
>>> the passing traffic on State Route 48 to my left as I reel and shorten
>>> their leashes in toward me.  Hearing predictability ahead we cross
>>> this next street without stopping and maintain our pace.  It’s a
>>> perfectly executed crossing; even the Russian orientation and mobility
>>> instructors are pleased and their scorecard displays a 9.7 score
>>> rating.  For me it is just one of those days when alignment is
>>> Zen-like, and no other people approach with dogs, and no remnant of
>>> parade food has been discarded in the crosswalk for distraction.
>>>
>>> In this next block is where the aluminum bleachers is positioned and
>>> both block the entirety of the sidewalk which is at least twice the
>>> width of suburban sidewalk path because it accommodates a very nicely
>>> cobbled-brick area surrounding a city bus stop and shelter.  I am so
>>> very familiar with the parade bleacher setup because at least twice in
>>> the early years of my residency here I took a five foot nine-inch
>>> bleacher seat or step to my forehead, my cane sweeping beneath and my
>>> ears and mind elsewhere, probably dreaming of the advent of Diane
>>> Sawyer’s voice in my computer’s synthesizer or a Wendy’s double burger
>>> with everything the size of a Frisbee.
>>>
>>> Today as in previous years since my last headshot I have stepped off
>>> the sidewalk well before the placement of the bleachers and along with
>>> the dogs walk up the sloping grass of the Board of Education lawn to
>>> go around the blockade.
>>>
>>> “Hello.  I like your dogs” a woman’s voice speaks to me and Maggie and
>>> Snerdley are heading directly for her until Maggie stops short to root
>>> at what I can only imagine is food droppings from parade-attendees.
>>>
>>> “Oh I’m sorry” the woman says as I tug on Maggie’s leash – Snerdley is
>>> not a constantly begging, sniffing or food-on-the-brained kind of dog
>>> – and I am again giving Maggie a smart leash correction of the sort I
>>> learned how to administer when in guide dog school 20 years ago.  It
>>> is a mental check at best, and the equivalent of a tap on the
>>> shoulder.
>>>
>>> “I’m sorry” the woman repeats.  “I know they’re working… I shouldn’t
>>> have distracted them” she says apologetically but I hear she’s smiling
>>> because well… dogs have this effect on people unlike politicians.
>>>
>>> “No problem” I say loosening my hold on Maggie because she’s now
>>> sweep-sniffing and no longer rooting which tells me she’s not eating
>>> or about to eat.
>>>
>>> “I know you’re not supposed to pet working dogs but can I…” the woman
>>> asks
>>> me.
>>>
>>> I worked with a Black Labrador guide dog for many years and I never
>>> did get use to this question of simultaneous acknowledgement and
>>> dismissal.  I wonder if this is limited to those who work with service
>>> dogs only or if it is spoken elsewhere.
>>>
>>> “I know you’re not supposed to smoke in the maternity ward but can I?
>>> I know the sign reads 12 items or less but...I know it’s a school zone
>>> and the cautionary light is flashing but c’mon man, it’s a Porsche.”
>>>
>>> “Sure” I say and ask if she attended the parade attempting to
>>> non-sequitur a guide dog conversation which as you know is not the
>>> reality of the situation, but seeing is believing.  I cannot imagine
>>> being so equipped as a blind person with a cane, all my senses in
>>> working order and only four dogs short of a sled-team of guide dogs
>>> but this is what is seen and spoken to me routinely when we three are
>>> out for a walk.  My blindness experience has taught me that we see
>>> what we know and that knowing is not the same as understanding.
>>> Knowing is good for multiple-choice tests and Jeopardy, but
>>> understanding has very little to do with memorization.
>>>
>>> “Yes.  We’re cleaning up and are waiting for the trucks to remove the
>>> bleachers.  Were you here for the parade” she asks?
>>>
>>> “Yes and no “ I tell her.  “I live just two blocks south of here and
>>> the parade… well it passes in front of my house.  It’s like having a
>>> marching band playing in your living room” I say to her and feel
>>> chills on the nape of my neck as I recall the scene I’ve just
>>> inadvertently described from The Amityville Horror movie.
>>>
>>> “Oh I know you” she says.  “You’re the guy with the dogs” and I know
>>> she’s saying that I am the white cane guy with the dogs more or less.
>>> But herein I am not WCG but the blind guy with two guide dogs, working
>>> dogs or service dogs… whatever.
>>>
>>> “Yes that is me” I reply acknowledging her with a glance.
>>>
>>> “I think these dogs are so amazing… I mean what they do for you” she
>>> says bending over to pet one then the other.
>>>
>>> What do I say” I ask myself.  Do I tell her truth, that my dogs are
>>> regular walking, trashcan-sniffing, rabbit-chasing and obviously
>>> harnessless dogs with no formal training?  This is a uniquely
>>> dissonant situation for everything in plain view contradicts the
>>> woman’s belief.  “God why are you doing this to me?  I ask internally.
>>> “Why am I doing this to myself?  Please turn my head into a plasma
>>> flat screen so I might be seen” I muse patiently.  “Give me the radio
>>> voice of Art Schreiber, Rush Limbaugh or Teri Gross so I might be
>>> heard.”
>>>
>>> “Now where did you get them” she asks still petting and cooing to them.
>>>
>>> “Maggie is from a breeder in Tampa and Snerdley comes from the Tampa
>>> Humane Society where he was doing 3 to six for civil disobedience” I
>>> reply.
>>>
>>> “Whaaat” she asks laughing at me but I know she’s sincere and believes
>>> the twain are working.
>>>
>>> “The truth is neither dog is a working dog” and this I relate
>>> seriously.  “I sort of rescued them and they are from Tampa, Florida.”
>>>
>>> “But they work for you right” she states more than asks.
>>>
>>> “Nope.  This works with me” I say softly, smiling sincerely and
>>> holding my cane upright to my side above the recently shorn front lawn
>>> I feel beneath my feet.  I know my cane’s simple utilitarian power,
>>> but most folk know it only as an accessory to the DMV driver exam
>>> picture and functionally like a candy-striped barber pole mounted on
>>> the wall outside the shop.
>>>
>>> “They’re not working for you… They’re not service animals” she replies
>>> and I can hear the disbelief in her voice.
>>>
>>> “No, they’re served animals” I reply.  “They get served meals in the
>>> morning and the afternoon, dog snacks from who laid the rail and take
>>> routine walks with me to the pet store where they are served treats
>>> and God only knows how many discounts that I am unaware of which they
>>> steal from the store’s lower shelves.”
>>>
>>> The woman is laughing.  I am laughing.  I think she’s definitely a
>>> dog-person.  This mistake has occurred so many many times since I
>>> began walking the dogs I’ve cared for in the past ten years since my
>>> former guide passed.  Who knows, maybe I’ll educate someone or even
>>> better… Maybe she’ll want two dogs.
>>>
>>> “I don’t understand.  I always thought they guided you.  I’ve seen
>>> them take you across the street” she says.
>>>
>>> “Take me across the street” I consider incredulously to myself?
>>> Chinese emperors are taken places by rickshaw inside the Imperial
>>> City.  The New York Yankees are taken by floats or convertibles
>>> through the streets of Brooklyn in parades celebrating victory, but
>>> the last time I was taken across a street was by pram by my mother in
>>> the very early seventies.
>>>
>>> “do you have a dog” I ask mild in tone and turning my gaze away so as
>>> to make sure I am communicating understandingly.  I do not want to
>>> give the impression that I am at all incredulous.  I do not want this
>>> kind woman to feel anything but openness to the reality of me walking
>>> the dogs.  I do not want to communicate a corrective “Well duh” tone
>>> of voice to her.
>>>
>>> “Yes, a Beagle mix” she says and hearing Beagle I so want to reply
>>> “BeagleJuice BeagleJuice BeagleJuice” but even I know now is the time
>>> for seriousness.
>>>
>>> “When you walk the Beagle the Beagle sometimes walks ahead of you and
>>> sometimes at your side.  Beagle turns at all the routine corners and
>>> after certain street crossings. The Beagle marks territory at the
>>> usual places and walks down curbs and up wheelchair ramps along with
>>> you” I am explaining and she is understanding this I know because she
>>> is now speaking to me engagingly and truth be told laughing at herself
>>> which I can appreciate because I’ve walked into bleachers in broad
>>> daylight.
>>>
>>> “Oh my God.  You’re just walking these dogs.  You’re blind though,
>>> right” she asks and she is most definitely in need of confirmation.
>>> If ever there was an opportune time for me to walk into a tree or
>>> bleachers it is now.  This would be called taking one for the team.
>>>
>>> This is true I say.  You know it is, that moment when engaged by a
>>> person unfamiliar with blindness but simultaneously in-the-know of
>>> blindness who needs you to confirm something obvious in its
>>> functionality like reading Braille in an elevator and pressing the
>>> corresponding button so the light illuminates the seeing is believing
>>> truth.  It’s like asking someone at a costume party to remove their
>>> Batman mask even though you know this person planned to arrive as such
>>> despite the fact that the entirety of the event is a pre-planned
>>> Barack and Michelle Abama look-a-like costume party.
>>>
>>> “Yes” I reply now looking uncomfortably directly at her for only a
>>> second or two.
>>>
>>> “Ohhhh” she exclaims and she’s cool in manner and not at all
>>> uncomfortable with the word blind which I really appreciate.
>>>
>>> “Sweet!” I’m elated.  “She’s cool with it.  I can get on with my
>>> walk,” but now I’m hearing the dismantling of square one and the
>>> proposal of site excavation and remodeling plans being offered to the
>>> department of my ways and means ha ha ha.
>>>
>>> “But how…?  You just walk… alone…, with that” she states a bit
>>> incredulously and obviously pointing at my cane as if I’m holding a
>>> soiled diaper.
>>>
>>> I have a choice to make.  I can prolong the exchange which has turned
>>> into a whole bunch of everything regarding blindness and maybe dispel
>>> her disbelief.  I could make another joke and tell her that yes I do
>>> use the cane, it works for free, I incur no health insurance costs, it
>>> requires no room and board, does not cheat at cards and also functions
>>> as a sweeping tool for the identification and retrieval of all the
>>> single socks that have gone amiss beneath beds and behind the washing
>>> machine and dryer in my home.  I could answer yes and excuse myself
>>> and continue walking and this is what I did more or less.
>>>
>>> “My name is David” I say holding out my hand to her and we shake.
>>> “This cane is to me, a literal extension of my arm and hand with five
>>> fingers each with an eyeball for a fingerprint.  It informs me of
>>> everything I need to know 65 inches ahead of my scheduled arrival.  It
>>> really works wonderfully in its simplicity.”
>>>
>>> “Oh I guess so” she replied in a tone of challenged consideration.  “I
>>> never really thought…  But don’t you need a service dog” she asked?
>>>
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>>
>>
>> --
>> Marianne Denning, TVI, MA
>> Teacher of students who are blind or visually impaired
>> (513) 607-6053
>>
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>


-- 
Marianne Denning, TVI, MA
Teacher of students who are blind or visually impaired
(513) 607-6053