I tap the screen on my phone to silence my unwelcome and all-too-early-sounding alarm. Opening my eyes I discover I’m being watched by the most joyful little black face, gazing lovingly at me-she’s the perfect height to rest her chin on my bed, while peering just over its edge.
As I roll to the edge of my bed, an excited Wella greets me with kisses and wags—her back half in constant motion, hopping around as she did when we first met yesterday—as if there were springs on the bottoms of her feet.
“Well, good morning, sweet girl. Did you sleep okay? It’s so nice to wake up to all this love! How about if I throw on a pair of jeans and we go outside to do your business?”
Wella does her business and eats breakfast. I shower quickly, get dressed, and the two of us head for the dining room.
After breakfast, Wella and I begin our first day of class as a team. For the morning session, we students walk around campus, with our dogs in “heel” position, practicing our commands, hand gestures and footwork, honing our proficiency in preparation for traveling as teams in harness.
Larissa comes to my room a few minutes prior to the afternoon session to deliver Wella’s harness. She stays to talk me through the process of putting her in harness—explaining the importance of holding onto the leather belly strap that dangles from the harness, taking care to ensure it doesn’t bump Wella’s face or eyes as I gently lift her chin with one hand to guide her head through the leather chest opening. Larissa talks me through the process of ensuring the belly strap is on the appropriate setting and cautions against catching fur in the buckle.
This afternoon, we’re going to downtown San Rafael to work on routes. Wella leading me through the downtown streets for the very first time is an absolutely magical experience! It feels like we’re flying. All I can think is: “Oh my gosh! I’m being led…by a DOG—an amazingly brilliant dog! I can’t believe we’re going SO fast!”
Being led by a guide dog is quite different from walking with a white cane. As a cane traveler, I have the freedom to stop spontaneously at will during my walk to assess my surroundings. When using a guide dog, the intention to stop must be communicated in advance to the dog.
I catch myself easily falling behind as my head is swimming with new information: I try to remember the commands I currently need, as well as to anticipate which ones the upcoming route will demand; to constantly be aware of my body positioning—to not fall so far behind as to step on Wella’s back feet—but not be so far forward to prevent her from going forward or inhibit my ability to pick up on her movements; to mentally keep track of which of the various forms of correction would prove most appropriate should the need arise.
Sensing my frustration, Larissa gently explains that dogs are always very much in the moment…And to be an effective handler, I would benefit from calming my thoughts and learning to be right there in the moment with Wella.
Copyright (C) 2015 Donna Mack Anderson. All rights reserved.
