Chapter 7 (Freedom and Animals, cont.)

Guiding Eyes Puppy Trainer

It’s funny how you get the impression that because these dogs are bred and raised for this cause, they therefore must be obedient and docile creatures. No way! Although they gave us clear directions, and had methods that have been proved to work, it still was hard work. They suggested using a crate. This would be the dog’s place for sleeping, his den, his security. I had a medium pet carrier for Wendy in case I had needed it. Though it was not suitable for a full sized Lab it was perfect for now as it fit under the kitchen table--thus not taking up any room. Tom fashioned gates to cordon off the kitchen from the rest of the house, making it easier to house train her. We left the door of the crate open at first so she wouldn’t feel cooped up. One of the first mornings, we found Gayle had decided the lower rungs of the wooden kitchen chairs made good “puppy chews.” We tried painting them with hot sauce. Gayle thought we were flavoring her puppy chews for her and liked the taste even better. We had to punish her verbally, giving her time outs in the enclosed crate, and closed the crate at night while she still insisted on chewing. We finally satisfied her need to chew and teethe by getting her rawhide chew bones. Later on I was to see a deal in a magazine for getting a whole box of rawhide bones at a reduced price, and sent for them. When they came in the mail, Gayle knew right away they were for her! She followed me as I took the box into the glassed in back porch to open the box and give her the first bone. She just acted so proud and happy, like a kid at Christmas unwrapping her favorite present.
We left the box in an unreachable spot, but she was good about not expecting another bone until the one she was chewing was completely gone.

We had a wonderful winter. She loved the snow and would follow me when cross-country skiing, then tumble into the deep snow next to the trail, coming up through the drift like a mole into daylight. Once in near zero weather she was so wound up being stuck inside, that I took her for a walk around the block-about a half mile trek in frostbite temperatures. I think I wanted to “Show her!” --as it was no weather for man or beast. But like throwing Bre’r Rabbit into the briar patch, she loved it! It must be their Labrador blood.

We were to pay for all their needs but the vet bill, which the Guiding Eyes Organization paid. We could deduct our costs from our income as a tax deduction. We immediately started taking her to basic obedience training at our own (tax-deductible) cost. Fortunately we didn’t have to find a good trainer on our own. The project leader, through the 4H Club, Diane Raynor, was also a dog trainer, only charging the Puppy Raisers $10 a lesson. For the first time in my life, I was learning how to truly raise a puppy… but it didn’t make it any easier, as I had to learn along with Gayle. I was worried about Gayle being so stubborn, but Diane told us that these puppies are supposed to be assertive, as they may detect a danger that the blind person wouldn’t see, and be stubborn enough to go against the owner’s directions if they could see that they were in danger, like if a car didn’t stop at a red light, or some other danger lurked that a blind person couldn‘t sense. They didn’t have to worry about Gayle, she had a mind of her own.

Even though we were careful not to spoil Gayle, and even though she was a normal stubborn little pup who chewed through furniture and was so full of energy she nearly wore me out, we became so fond of her that I had mixed emotions when I detected a problem in her hip area, as, we could keep the dog if she didn‘t make the cut. One day when on the way home from our walk, and approaching the top of a hill above the park near the house, I rested my hand on her lower back, and felt a “clicking” or a kind of snapping when moving. Next time I took her to training, I asked Diane to check it out. Could feel the vibration like something popping in the pelvic bone area. She said they could evaluate it when Gayle would be neutered (…all guide dogs are neutered). But we had time. I still had a lot of hoops to jump through. I had to take her through stores, up and down open stairways, through parks where there were many children, and board busses-- all part of her training. I wasn’t really bold enough for this program, as I would take it personally if someone objected to my bringing my puppy into a no-dogs-allowed area, even though she proudly wore the vest, stating, “Guiding Eye Puppy.“ …I never did board a bus with Gayle.

We made it to the Guiding Eyes Puppy Picnic in July… I think the hottest day of the summer. I had gone alone with Gayle, but was interrupted when Tom came to pick me up as my youngest son, Alb had gotten burned and was being treated in the emergency room at Wilson Hospital. It was a bad time for Alby, as well as this Mom who would have gladly taken some of the horrible pain of his burns if it was somehow possible in this sometimes cruel world. What had happened, was that he was trying to start a friend’s stalled car the way they had done before, as this car would stall every so often. On this hot, hot day, he had taken a Dixie cup of gasoline to pour into the carburetor of the still hot engine, and it back-flashed setting him afire, causing second and third degree burns to his upper body. He had to be hospitalized for a few weeks, and even had to get skin grafts to parts of his chest. When he came home from the hospital, he moved in with us. [The whole event could fill a book, but that’s the sketchiest of details of a horrible incident in our lives.]

Later that summer, Tom, Trese, and I took a well needed vacation to Rhode Island after driving Gayle to the Guiding Eyes Dog Clinic where she was going to be neutered, leaving the house in the care of Jim and his stepbrother, Alb. When we got back, we found they had a typical “parent’s-are-out-of-town-party.” They were so careful about not getting caught, that they had drawn up a strict list of behavior so the neighbors wouldn’t catch on. We never would have known the difference except for finding this list folded up in a wastebasket in the basement, as well as a can half full of beer.

On the way home from vacation we went to pick up Gayle, and found out that the problem with her hip was dysplasia, and therefore, she could not be a Guiding Eyes Dog. We, of course had the option to take it home as our own dog, so when they asked us if we wanted to keep her, we all said at once, “YES! Of course!” But Tom said it with tears in his eyes. He was so into this raising a dog for the blind, that he had envisioned Gayle helping a blind person, perhaps a business man in New York City, to get on subway trains, to go up elevators, and insuring him his safety and independence. Tom had to change his dreams. He loved Gayle, but felt bad about her having failed her destiny of being such a good Guiding Eyes Dog.

Gayle's First Day at Her Puppy Raiser's.

Chapter 6 (Freedom and Animals, cont.)

Gayle

In the late autumn of 1987 my stepdaughter, Trese and I took note of a need announced in the newspaper for Guiding Eyes for the Blind Puppy Raisers. Wendy gone was like a missing tooth. Her not being in my life was a palpable loss. She was my constant companion at home and on walks, and by then I‘d quit my job at Willow Point, giving the reason that I had to concentrate on my new role as a step-mom. (...But I was never comfortable being a nurse. I always felt like I was an accident waiting for a medical mistake to do me in at a patient‘s cost.)

I also was going into menopause, and hadn‘t realized it except that I was feeling like I was getting Alzheimer‘s, forgetting names to the point that I almost had to think about what my own was. Plus my emotions were all over the place. I could use a silent companion like I had in Wendy, but I felt that it would be dishonoring her memory to get a pup so soon. I didn’t want get another Springer, and like replacing my Weimaraner, Kiyoodle, only to compare the new one negatively. In getting a Guiding Eyes for the Blind Puppy, we would be just raising it for a blind person. My main outdoor exercise was walking, while being accompanied by a dog. This would answer my need for a dog while volunteering in an important way. After some conniving and convincing, we managed to get Tom to agree to this venture. I became a Puppy Raiser for Guiding Eyes for the Blind.

The pups are named by their kennel, and Guiding Eyes named the first litter of the year litter A. By October 1987, they had gone through the alphabet twice. When she was born in November 1987 her litter letters were GG, preceeded by the number of puppies in her litter--9; ending with the last number of the year, so her number tattooed inside her ear was 9GG7. If she ever got lost or stolen, this would identify exactly who she was through any vet or law enforcement agency.

We got her on January 5, 1988 while Jim was still home from SUNY at Albany for his Christmas break, so Tom’s whole family was there for Gayle‘s arrival. After such an eventful day, when it came to napping in "Daddy’s" arms, the little pup was content with her new life.

Holly and Pudgy in 1988

Chapter 5 (Freedom and Animals, cont.)

Tom’s Dogs:

It wasn’t like there were no dogs at Tom‘s house. He had Holly and Pudgy. Holly was supposed to be a good hunting beagle for Tom, back when Mary Jane was his wife. After their first hunting trip together, I was told, Tom had been so upset with Holly that when they got home, Holly made a mad dash for Mary Jane, and jumped up on her lap for love and comfort. She earned her place in Tom's heart when she was a great comfort to Mary Jane when she was going through the last throes of liver cancer which took her life in July of '82 (exactly two months after it was diagnosed, though she had been feeling poorly for quite awhile and Tom had been taking her to hospitals and doctors that last year trying to find out what was wrong).

Pudgy was a present for the kids the Christmas after Mary Jane died. She was supposed to be a good rabbit dog also… (again, ...not to be). However, Tom was at work and the kids at school, and what with his picking up the slack with Trese who had become the lady of the house at twelve going on thirteen, they had little time to spend with the dogs, and they were no longer indoor dogs. Fortunately Tom had a fenced in backyard, and had a little doghouse in the garage for the two dogs, and besides being fed in the garage, had little attention paid to them. Once in awhile Holly would get away. We didn’t think she could find he way home. She had her name, address, and telephone number on her collar, and eventually someone would call having found her, and they‘d go over and pick her up.

When I moved in, I tried to like Holly and Pudgy, but something got in the way. Here I had brought Wendy into the household. I think subconsciously I felt it just wasn’t fair that Wendy had free range of a house in which Holly had been banned since Mary Jane died. The dogs were no longer housetrained, so there was no way I could rectify the unfair situation. I was still working as an RN at Willow Point. It was easier to just ignore them, but I think I resented them for making me feel the guilt of my having Wendy in what was really “their“ house.

I had tried taking Holly and Pudgy for walks along with Wendy, but inevitably Holly would roll in something so objectionable that if I had taken them in the car, and hadn’t something along with me clean her up or to wrap her in I’d be in bad trouble.

Once this happened on Thanksgiving, having an hour or so to take them for a drive and walk while the turkey was still in the oven. I took them down by the Susquehanna River, alongside Old Vestal Road …a veritable rabbit heaven. When Holly and Pudgy got chasing them I wouldn’t lose them, as their howling gave them away. I finally extracted Holly from some brushes, and put her on a leash, dragging her back, with obedient Pudgy following. When far enough away, and Holly seemed to be following along well, I let her off the leash. It was then when my back was turned that she found a most foul thing to roll in …some kind of poop, and had nothing in the car with which I could clean her up. This was so foul that I was thankful that people dumped junk and old trash, as I found an old wet rags and an intact man’s shirt. They probably were dirty, but they weren’t as dirty or smelly as Holly, so I wiped what I could away, and wrapped her in the shirt so I could take her home, almost having to have her sit in my lap, stinking to high heaven, so I could drive her home windows wide open on a cold day so she wouldn't smell up the car. I had to be careful when I got home I didn’t foul up the house--all festive and smelling like turkey and pumpkin pie. She was released out back--where I could again forget about her, and after a change of clothes, and after I calmed down, Thanksgiving was pleasant. I couldn’t blame her for this habit, but I was so frustrated and angry with her that I could justify my reasons for not liking her.

It wasn’t until years later, and cute little Pudgy had already died, having been like her name--pudgy--and had congestive heart failure, and we had moved up to the land, when Holly and I bonded. We brought Holly along, of course. By then I had a yellow Lab, which had been a Guiding Eyes Pup we got to keep. We couldn’t find an rental apartment or house that would allow pets for the space of time between selling the Charleston Avenue house, and building our new home. So we had the garage built first, bought a woodstove to heat the area, and moved into it, arranging the bedroom, living room, and kitchen furniture to areas of living in the garage. That was in October, 1992. I never felt so much like a pioneer as then, as we had a toilet, but no water hooked up, and I had to go down to the creek to bring up water to flush the toilet. For drinking and washing dishes we went to a local spring where the Murphys had the water piped out alongside of Quaker Lake Road, so locals could stop to get fresh spring water. We took showers at Trese's home, as she was, at that time, married to Ray Williams.

Holly was about 15 years old then, I had to train her to do new tricks, like to housebreak the old dog. I guess she remembered when she was an indoor dog, but she was able to safely practice this in the garage where mistakes were easily forgiven. I took her on the leash for walks with Gayle and I. I realized that she could hardly see, and used her nose to guide her. She couldn’t hear either, which was a relief for her as well as us because whenever there was a thunderstorm, she would go nuts! She would get under the bed and start digging as if she could dig a deep hole to get away from the horror of thunderstorms. I hadn’t realized this when she was in the garage in Vestal. After we moved into the house, if there was a threat of a thunderstorm, I would simply leave on the lights, and, whereas she couldn’t hear the noise and couldn’t see the lightening in a lighted room and she'd sleep through the storm not knowing the difference. We finally learned this after a few times of having to pull her out from under the bed where she was digging so furiously we were afraid she’d wear a hole in the rug, let alone our not being able to sleep with that going on. Now, without her clear vision nor hearing, she was able to be let off the leash. She would no longer wander away. A trick she enjoyed when she’d be trailing behind, was when I’d get Gayle to come with me when I’d take a sharp right, off the path, and we’d hide behind a tree. Holly would go past the spot… stop… then go back until she picked up our smell, and then follow her nose. When she discovered us, she practically smiled. Tail wagging she’d show pride in her ability to track us down.

She turned out to be a loving and gentle affectionate dog, and I realized that the something inside me that refused to love Holly and Pudgy while back in Vestal, was the guilt in that they didn’t have the freedom that Wendy… that all of my history of pets had. I hated and still hate to keep things fenced in, tied up, or restrained in any way even when it was necessary. I was so glad it was no longer necessary for Holly to be restrained, and for the last two years of her life she experienced a new kind of freedom despite her weakening senses.