Training day 10

6:27 AM

Ok, I forgot to mention yesterday that we didn't actually end up doing escalators; we'll be going to the mall this afternoon, and doing them then. We were told that the dogs need to wear booties on only their back feet for the escalator, and not on all four like I'd originally thought. Dogs wearing booties on escalators is relatively new, actually. apparently there were a small minority of instances where the pads of the dog's feet would get pinched between the metal slats of the moving floor, and, well, you can imagine what followed. The vast majority of people and dogs have absolutely no problem with them, but I'd rather pause and put booties on my boy's back feet than sit there in the midst of a horror-stricken crowd while my dog bleeds all over the place. I thought of being all rebellious and perhaps bending the booties rule a bit, but I know that with my luck, the day I choose not to put booties on his feet, something bad'll happen and I won't exactly be able to get GDB to help. So, booties on his back feet it is! :).

This morning we'll be heading to the lounge to do a route, and will likely focus on specific things (for some people it'll be buildings, for others it'll be pace, etc.). I'd really like to go back to the buildings Arden and I visited, and do some more walking in hallways and targeting doors and the like. After that, we'll be going to GDB's actual campus for lunch. The GDB gift shop is there, so we'll also be able to do some shopping! (I'm really going to need to exercise some of that self-control I don't have). Then we get photos taken for our ID cards. I have two shirts I can't decide between for the photo...maybe I'll get someone to also get a picture of us with my phone and post it here at some point. And then it's off to the mall we go!

10:05 AM

I am writing this entry with much sadness in my heart. One of our classmates is going home today. That's all I'll say regarding the situation specifically, but it really, really sucks. You know, there are times when being blind is awesome: it's allowed me to forge connections and relationships with people that are of such depth and mutual understanding that I'm left inarticulate with gratitude; it's given me more compassion and empathy than I know what to do with sometimes, and it's really sharpened my problem-solving skills. But there are days when being blind, as with any other feature we have, works against us, and it really sucks. Call it an inaccessible environment or a disabling condition, but it can just suck either way. The fact that you feel as though you're constantly being scrutinized (whether by yourself or the "normalizing" gaze of others; the fact that that you're not really "allowed" to be disabled and mediocre--that you have to be disabled and brilliant and extremely well-adjusted and jump through hoops and do all your own cooking and charge about the world unassisted--hell, that gets so, so incredibly exhausting sometimes. And the war we wage in our own heads is often far more harmful than anything an external source can do to us. But yeah, my heart is breaking right now. We're all carrying on as though nothing has happened--in that everyone's still chatting and laughing and going on routes, and a part of me wants to scream and cry and just, like, how can the world just be business as normal when someone's hurting so much? regardless of whether or not it was "right" or "necessary" or any adjective we pull out to justify something that's happened, it's still cathartic to just come together with the people who understand you the most and acknowledge just how hard a struggle it can be sometimes. We're allowed to complain. we're allowed to not be thrilled all the time, you know? But we all know how uncomfortable I am with my own public display of emotion, so I suppose, I, too, will go on with business as normal, and someone's heart will still be breaking.

5:06 Pm

After I wrote that last segment, Arden and I headed out on our route. Because I wanted to focus on our work in buildings, we worked in both the buildings we'd worked in yesterday, and he had very good carryover from yesterday's work (meaning that he remembered which things I had him target, and he'd target them again today). He's still a bit eager to skip the bottom step when going up, so we did a bit of reinforcing the bottom step. A minor issue, and probably one related to his legs being so long, but just something to keep my eye on.

Two noteworthy things happened during our route this morning; the first, most handlers with very little sight will be able to relate to. we had lined up to cross an intersection, and I gave my dog the forward command. We stepped out into the street, and were walking a straight line when my dog swerved us to the right and continued the crossing. I was about to correct him so as to regain our original line of travel, but my instructor told me that he was actually swerving around a sandwich board that had somehow made it into the middle of the street (contrary to popular belief, not all obstacles we encounter have been intentionally placed there by GDB!). Anyway, this poses what I think is the quintessential dilemma for guide dog handlers who have little to no sight (and handlers with sight, please chime in if you can relate). When we have a straight line of travel, and the dog veers, it's very difficult to tell if it's veering for guiding purposes or out of "personal interest" or distraction. I know this does get slightly better with time and with the increased awareness of your dog's unique cues (your distracted dog will, for instance, behave differently from his non-distracted self). But even still, it happens to us time and time again--the dog swerves and we correct them needlessly because they've actually avoided an obstacle--or they swerve, and wanting to do what we were told and follow them properly, we trust and find ourselves all sniffing a tree or some random stranger. There isn't exactly a solution to this issue, but it's definitely an ongoing one.

We had just finished a crossing when my dog looked to the left, paused slightly, and continued walking. I could hear voices to the left where he'd been looking, and praised him verbally for passing the chatty people

"Shermeen, stop your dog and give him some kibble right now. he just walked past A, his trainer for you."

I halted instantly and basically unloaded my bate pouch into my dog's mouth. My instructor said he had looked at his trainer, but then gazed ahead again purposefully, as if to say, "This is a tough one, but I'm working."

I'd also wanted to chat to his trainer though, just to talk about how great he is and to check with his trainer for anything I should know, so my instructor called his trainer over just briefly for an introduction. And my dog went nuts. He nearly lunged out of my hand and his front paws were clear up on her shoulder. I've never seen him so happy! My momentary flash of jealousy was quickly replaced by hope: if he reacts that strongly to his trainer, maybe he'll react that strongly to me eventually! and hey, I probably got a dose of what it'll be like when he sees his puppy raisers! She and I chatted for a bit, agreeing that Arden was an angel dog. She confirmed that he was a breeze to train, and we agreed to set up a short meeting next week just so I could get more details (and let's be real-it'll be a chance to just sit with someone and brag about him!). So, I was super impressed with his ignoring her, and also so touched by his reaction to her! He's a bit of an emotionally reserved dog, and so I worried that he perhaps wasn't bonding with me. But like everything that's worth it in life, it takes time.

After we returned from our morning route, we headed to GDB's main campus for lunch and a chance to visit the gift shop. I ended up buying a few things: two textured nyla bones (the one Arden has now already resembles a war artifact you'd find in an archeological dig), a raincoat (it's blue!), another fleece mat that I can travel with so he'll always have a bed handy, two "buddy splash" body sprays (they smell like the fresh outdoors!), one leash luggage (a small bag that attaches to the back strap of the harness for poop bags), and I think that's all. I'd always imagined what it would be like to go to the gift shop, and so it was cool to actually go. Of course, almost nothing in the world is as you anticipate it, and often the excitement is in the anticipation itself. The exception, however, has been receiving Arden. No amount of anticipation could have outshined what it's been like to be with his yellow princehood.

Even still, I had a bit of a hard time at lunch for some personal reasons. My mood took a bit of a plummet, and although it was prompted by a few minor things, I reacted more strongly than I thought was appropriate. I spent much of lunch trying to convince myself not to cry, and I just felt so overwhelmed and irritated. My mood quickly lifted after lunch though, because it was time to take group and individual photos. When the person had taken my and Arden's picture, they all exclaimed that he was the most photogenic dog! His head was tilted just so, ears perked up, and he sat tall and proud, in all his yellow glory. It was perfect. I was told I could get a copy via e-mail, and that'll be posted here for sure.

After that, we headed to the mall to practise escalators. We put the dogs' booties on while sitting on a padded bench near the entrance so that they'd be ready to go. I can actually attach the boots right to the harness handle, just so I'm not ever near an escalator without having them handy. Arden seems to really like escalators; he just kept finding one after another! our first attempt at walking off the escalator ended up in hilarious debauchery, though.

"Now, as you feel the escalator is about to level out, grab the tail end of the leash in your left hand...yeah, sort of like that...and hook a finger under his collar, and say "ready? let's go!""

As the steps began evening out, I tried to do what she said. The leash ended up in a tangled, clustered knot in my left hand, as I frantically dove for any part of his collar I could reach. Before I knew it, it was time to get off and so I lurched gracelessly forward, dragging my befuddled dog haphazardly on my left side.

"Ready? Let's go!" I hollered a little too loudly, while flailing my right hand forward, nearly giving the unsuspecting person in front of me a glancing blow to the head. We sort of tumbled off the escalator and I turned to  my instructor.

"Wow, is that how you guys do it?"

"Not exactly."

"Yeah, that was kind of an epic disaster, eh?"

"It was ok, but let's talk through the steps. And next time, just a little less super hero on your part, ok? You looked like you were about to literally fly!"

We laughed a bit and she made fun of me some more, and then we did it again. There seem to be so  many steps! I'm used to just walking confidently off the escalator, sort of lifting the handle up and encouraging the dog to hop over the threshold. Anyway, the next five or six times around went much more smoothly. On our way back to the group, my dog turned and brought me to another padded bench, and presented it to me. I was so proud that he was finding things that looked like empty benches! so I food rewarded him, and gently told him to keep going. He's so thoughtful and pays more attention than I give him credit for! So, it ended up being a pretty decent day. I think I'm going to spend a quiet evening in my room with Sir Arden Goldendor The second. That is a very dignified title that suits him very well. and "the second" makes it doubly so, dontcha think?

8:44 Pm

I'm so, so tired. Not just in the physical exhaustion sense, but I'm just so psychologically and emotionally drained tonight. I feel like falling asleep while being gently cradled, crying quietly until my tears slow and my busy mind takes rest. I don't really know what comes over me so suddenly at times; I'm simultaneously more primitive and more complex than I think. I get all caught up in my own head, and then I remind myself that I have Arden, and that's what I came here for. And I love him so far. So I'll try and keep that thought at the forefront of my mind as I try and fall asleep tonight. It's just been one of those days where my interactions with the world have made me hate humanity just a little bit, and I'm irritated with myself even more. Hopefully, I won't feel as sad tomorrow. I had better not, in fact, because tomorrow morning we're doing traffic checks! For those of you who don't know what that entails, it involves an instructor driving a car in your immediate path. So, this could mean that they pull out of a driveway in front of you as you walk down the sidewalk, or it could also be a turning car as you begin to cross an intersection. The dog's job is to stop, or otherwise move in such a way so as to prevent both you and itself from being hit. One of the really neat things about GDB is that they use hybrid cars for this test--the reason being that often, when we blind handlers hear an idling car in front of us, or hear a car wildly swerve into our path, we instinctively don't allow the dog to stop us--we often just ream back on the harness in the basic interest of staying alive. You'd be hard pressed to find a handler who when they hear a screeching car, says "Tell you what. I'm not gonna stop, and I want to see what my dog will do." So, if we didn't trust our dogs until now, I sure hope this will be an exercise in just that! Basically, if you don't hear about my having been obliterated on the news tomorrow, Arden and I likely made it.

On that lovely note, I'm out for the night.