anastoff

Well, don't worry readers. I am still alive. It's just been so busy with school, and every time I think about posting to this journal, I have a guilty conscience knowing that there is so much homework I should be doing. I think writing is something that should be enjoyed, and therefore I decided that catching up on my journal would be my reward when all of my school projects were turned in, and as of Thursday, they all were. I suppose I do have a little bit of a guilty conscience because exams start this Friday, so I should be studying. But the way I have looked at studying since elementary school, to the extreme frustration of some of my teachers, is that since it is not an assignment to be turned in, you don't really have to do it. So often, I don't. Life is too short after all to spend it cramming useless information down your throat that you will just forget after the test anyway. An assistant that I had from fifth grade through the first semester of my senior year in high school liked to say, "You either know it, or you don't." She used this saying when I was taking a math test and was spending too long on a problem that I simply didn't know how to do, and although what she probably wanted me to get from that statement is that I need to study more, math is so cumbersome for me, I didn't really know how to study for math tests, so I think the saying could apply to situations where no matter how much you study, there are simply concepts that are never going to come to you, so you might as well not beat a dead horse by studying too much. Actually in all seriousness, I probably will study for my exams this semester because the statistics class, and the research methodology class I took this semester were pretty involved, and due to the facts that college exams are worth a greater percentage of your grade in college than they were in high school, I don't want to repeat any classes, and I am fortunate to have parents willing to pay my college tuition, I want to do well on these exams. But I have a whole week to study, so for now I am going to kick back, and enjoy writing in my journal again.
There is so much I want to update you on from all that has happened to me just this semester to reflecting on my life last year at this time, when Gilbert and I were about to celebrate the successful completion of our first semester, and our first Christmas together. I knew that first semester last year would be crazy because I had so much to adjust to all at once, from college classes, to dorm life to my first guide dog. But I figured sophomore year would be a walk in the park because I would be an expert in college life. As usual, I was wrong. Between three projects that we had to work on the whole semester, and having surgery unexpectedly, a story I could not do justice without giving it an entry in and of itself, this semester has been crazy as usual. But for this entry, I want to reflect back on what I was feeling as Gilbert and I were drawing near the end of our first semester of college.
Maybe I should pick up where I left off in August and talk about life after Gilbert and I graduated from training. Unlike the sense of sadness and loss I felt after my high school graduation, when I got home from my graduation with Gilbert, there was not a trace of sadness in me, only a glorious feeling of independence and hope. I didn't even have the emotions I described just before the start of my training with Gilbert, the feeling that once I had a guide dog, I would never again be the carefree child with absolutely no responsibilities toward another living creature. On the night of my graduation, I realized that I really didn't want to go back to childhood because the end of childhood meant nothing compared to the joy of a new beginning. So shortly after getting home the night of graduation and putting Gilbert to bed with one of the dog treats the president of the program gave me in a goody bag, I was thrilled to realize that this was the first official night of our life as a working guide dog team. The next day was a honeymoon of sorts. My parents both had to work, and it was so exciting to realize that Gilbert and I had the day to ourselves. The dog trainer would not be coming. We were ready to be an independent team! After waking up that morning and doing our usual routine of taking him out and feeding him, I was overcome with the urge to go for a walk, to prove to the world that we were certified now, and ready to go out and seize the opportunities that independence could bring. However, I also knew that my parents would not want me to go for a walk on our country road when Gilbert and I were still such a new team. Actually, while I walk independently on campus, my parents still don't want me to walk on our street alone because there are a lot of idiots who think that they can speed down our street, and drive really close to the left side of the road where Gilbert and I walk. Of course, Gilbert and I were trained to move over to the grass at the side of the road when we hear a car coming, and wait there until the car was gone, but there is a hairpin curve where the view, and the sound of oncoming traffic is obscured by trees, so Gilbert and I might not notice cars coming until it was too late. Although it would be really cool to be able to walk the route to Calhoun myself, I know my parents' concerns are warranted, so I haven't protested too fiercely yet. So anyway, I certainly was not going to get this wonderful first day together off to a potentially tragic start by breaking the rules and taking Gilbert for a walk by myself. But just when I was getting disheartened that I would not get to take a walk on my first day with Gilbert since my parents got home late in the evening, I remembered a really nice neighbor friend who told me once that if I ever wanted to take a walk, just give her a call. So that is exactly what I did, and although her life is busy and she often is not home, to my great joy, she was home that day. In a matter of minutes, she came to the house, I had Gilbert harnessed up, and I was taking my first sort of independent walk without the dog trainer or my parents! The neighbor was a little bit protective by insisting that we take a different route than the one Gilbert and I had learned so that we could avoid the hairpin curve, it was still exciting, and it was the first chance I had to advocate for myself and Gilbert. The dog trainer had told me that when I take walks with other people, I should have them stand a few feet behind me rather than walking beside me so that Gilbert and I can lead the way. Anyway, it was a gorgeous sunny day, and he was not at all scared to work without the dog trainer, and as usual guided me beautifully and I found myself striking up conversation and enjoying the fresh air as though it was just another walk with a friend, not our first walk as an independent guide dog team.
After the walk, the neighbor came back to my house, and we spent a couple hours squeezing the juice out of lemons so that my mom could make lemonade. My neighbor never fails to think of something fun to do, and I had actually never squeezed lemons, so I enjoyed yet another new experience. I don't remember what I did the rest of that weekend, but I do remember that the honeymoon was short lived. That Monday, August 25, I had to begin another kind of training, learning how to use Jaws when I had grown up only knowing how to use the braille note, and a little bit about windoweyes. Since I hated windoweyes, and since I found out while visiting with the Disability Services Coordinator that the computers on campus are equipped with Jaws, my parents and I knew that it was something I needed to learn in order to be more successful in college. But with the busy summer we had due to the wedding, and preparing for Gilbert, we had forgotten to set up my training, and if I wanted to get any training over summer, the week after Gilbert's training ended was our only option. So Monday and Wednesday of that week, I had my first two lessons with Jaws, on Thursday Mom and I went to Walmart to buy supplies for the dorm, and on Friday, just one week after graduating with Gilbert, it was move-in day at the dorm for freshmen!
When my sister left home for the college dorm just before I started seventh grade, I had pictured the process of graduating to the dorm as something exciting, and I suppose it was exciting for me too. But I never really appreciated until that day how it is exciting and stressful at the same time. I think the reason it was stressful was because it would be one thing if I just had to worry about moving into the dorm and getting my closet and refrigerator organized, but two factors made it more stressful for me than it might have been for other college freshman. First, I was packing for two, myself and Gilbert, and although the stress of having to fit a lot of stuff in close quarters was reduced considerably by the fact that I had been issued a private room, there was still less space than I had at home, so my mom and Dad had to be strategic in deciding how to use the limited space efficiently, while still keeping everything easy to find. Despite our efforts, I still had to call my mom at work Saturday morning and ask where we had decided to stow the poop bags (smile), and even after a week in the dorm, I still went to Gilbert's closet first when looking for my shower supplies. Moving into the dorm was also made more stressful because of the fact that I only had four days to adjust to dorm life before school work was added to the mix. So on move-in day, I had to simultaneously think about setting up my dorm room, and making sure I was ready for school. This meant that my bed was barely made before Dad said we needed a technology guy to come and configure my braille note for the campus internet network because my computer that the state Department of Vocational Rehabilitation was supposed to have ordered in time for school to start had not arrived yet. And as if the combination of these factors did not make move-in day stressful enough, freshmen were hardly given any time to move in before we were required to go to various meetings, and orientation activities, and the time we did have kept getting interrupted constantly when an outgoing blind student who had just graduated brought a whole bunch of his friends to welcome me. My parents and I knew we should be hospitable because I wanted to have friends in college, but being social meant we had even less time to discuss how I wanted to set up my room.
The activities themselves were also stressful. One of the activities involved outdoor icebreaker games where I had to stand on the sidelines because participation would have been too stressful for both Gilbert and me. Gilbert and I were already stressed enough because when we had practiced my college routes with the dog trainer, the campus was practically empty. But now with 650 freshmen and their families on campus, Gilbert and I just couldn't stomach that much chaos yet. That, in addition to the fact that some of the meetings were held in places Gilbert and I were not yet familiar with, meant that this first day, my parents just did sighted guide with me holding Gilbert's leash. Needless to say, by the end of move-in day, I had a headache. Yet despite all of this stress, I was also excited to realize that I was actually living in a college dorm, and I know it is terrible to say this, I couldn't wait for my parents to leave. My parents decided to stay a little later than parents were supposed to because of my special circumstances. But while they were a tremendous help to me, I could also tell that they were worrying too much. After what felt like the millionth time of them making sure I knew where my clothes were, reminding me that I am in a public setting now so I can't take the dog out in my pajamas, reminding me that they would give me a wakeup call in time for me to get ready for breakfast and more meetings the next day and therefore to sleep rather than check my clock all night the way I do when I am nervous, rehashing the exact order in which I would get up, get dressed, brush my hair and teeth, take the dog out, come back, feed him, make sure I had my student identification card and cell phone, and go to breakfast, not to mention reminding me to always lock my door, and have my cell phone and poop bags with me at all times, it was all I could do to keep from shouting, "I can handle things! Could you just leave!" But when they did leave, and I had locked the door behind them, that was when I had what is to this day my favorite memory of move-in day. I had told my parents that I would go straight to bed when they left, but once they were gone, I was so filled with excitement that I was actually living in a college dorm, a phase which adults had said would be the time of my life, that I could not sleep. So what did I do? I threw myself a party. Don't worry. It wasn't too wild of a party because I don't like alcohol. But since my suite mates who would live on the other side of the wall had not arrived yet since they were older, I didn't have to worry about disturbing the peace. So I popped a Big 'n Rich album into the stereo my parents brought from home and hooked up for me, and had a dance party! It was another couple hours before I fell asleep, and I was in a deep sleep when my parents called, but oh what a wonderful night that was. To this day when I listen to Big 'n Rich, it takes me back to the thrill of that first night in a college dorm.
I often like to think of the week that followed move-in day as the golden week of my college experience because I got a small taste of all the emotions that come with college. On Saturday morning, the day after I moved in, the stress of the day before was replaced with excitement as Gilbert independently got ready for the day and walked down to the cafeteria, where I realized how easily I could gain the freshmen fifteen in no time flat if I wasn't careful, and went to more meetings and activities where I got to meet more new people. On Sunday, an older student took Gilbert and me to a nondenominational church in the area, and being that I grew up Catholic, it was really cool to try something new. But the rest of that day, and labor day, there were no visitors to my dorm room because the older students had moved in, and everyone was busy getting set up for school. There were no exciting events planned in the campus center until casino night which wouldn't start until 9:00, and I wasn't familiar enough wit campus to go anywhere except Rankin, and I knew nothing would be going on there, so I spent those days locked in my dorm room as if it was a prison cell, with nothing to do b familiarize myself with the school's website. As a result, I experienced loneliness so deep that when Mom and Dad invited me home Labor Day for burgers on the grill, the urge to be on my own that I had experienced Friday was a distant memory, and I accepted the offer. But the weirdest thing was that when I got home, even though I had only been gone three days, it felt like I had been gone for years. I didn't have a television in my dorm, and when my dad brought me dinner and took me for a walk Saturday night, he told me that Sarah Palin was John McCain's running mate, but I couldn't follow the news like I usually do. Although the burgers were delicious, I felt more like a visitor than at home. I didn't want to get too comfortable, otherwise I didn't know if I could go back to the dorm again. It was the weirdest feeling, and I'm still not sure if I am describing it right, but it was how I felt. I did go back to the dorm that night, but was so drained physically and emotionally that instead of going to another welcome week activity I had wanted to attend, I went to bed. The next day, Tuesday, one of my classes, a seminar for freshmen started at 8:00 in the morning, and I knew that would mean another stressful day, so I wanted to get plenty of sleep. Sure enough, it was.
My mom told me Monday night before she left that she would give me a wakeup call again at 6:00 Tuesday morning. At that time, I was supposed to get up, shower, get dressed, take Gilbert outside, feed him, get all of my school supplies packed, go to the dining room for breakfast and meet my mom outside the campus center at 7:30. From there, I would have plenty of time to work Gilbert to Rankin, the route we had practiced almost every day with the dog trainer. My mom would just be there to make sure I got there safely, and rescue me if any problems should arise. It turned out there were problems even before my mom got there. The problem was that unlike Saturday where there were meetings I had to go to, and I did get to breakfast, it was not as crucial to be on time as it was that day, my first day of classes, and I just could not get things done efficiently. When I wanted to shower, I couldn't find my supplies, and when I was done, I had to put everything away, something I had never done at home so that my stuff wouldn't get in the way when my suite mates needed to shower later, and putting things away, especially in an unfamiliar room takes longer than one might think. The same ritual was repeated when I had to brush my teeth and hair. Getting dressed was uneventful because I had clothes laid out the night before, but I still had to get Gilbert ready. When I took him out that morning, I was almost outside when I think I forgot the poop bag, so I had to rush back to my room and grab one, and then feeding him always takes longer in the dorm where I didn't have a nice big kitchen table to put the bowl on, while I got the water to mix in with it, so the process was much more awkward and time consuming. To make a long story short, I was supposed to be done with breakfast by 7:30, but instead I was just entering the cafeteria. I asked the lady that was helping me get my food what time it was, and when she said it was 7:30, I called my mom on my cell phone, and asked if I should just skip breakfast. I was beyond overwhelmed, and I didn't want to be late for my first college class. She assured me that I could eat a quick breakfast and we could still get to class in time, so I gobbled down breakfast, and then in my frantic attempt to get to class, I walked out the wrong door of the campus center. But somehow, I forget how with all of the stress that day, my mom found me and at 7:45, we were ready to walk to Rankin. But if you think the frustrations were over for the day and Gilbert and I had a beautiful walk to Rankin and lived happily ever after, you're wrong. That is because I successfully crossed East Avenue, but then the beautiful sidewalk to Rankin that we had trained for, and which had been completely unobstructed the day before was now completely blocked by construction trucks. It wasn't just one little truck that we could detour around for a few yards and then be right back on the sidewalk. It was such a mess that we had to find a whole new route. I actually don't remember what we did, but I think it involved cutting through another building and somehow getting to the other side that way. Long story short is that this route would be way too confusing for me to walk without someone with me, so I never got to work Gilbert with absolute independence all of the way from the dorm to Rankin until second semester.
The class itself wasn't too stressful. We met in Rankin, and then I did sighted guide with my teacher to the library where I listened to a librarian introducing freshmen to the computer resources available at the college, and did an activity emphasizing important advice for academic success in college. Then we went back to Rankin, had a brief discussion about the goals of the class, and then watched an interesting video about ! difficulties people with disabilities face in this country, a perfect fit since this class was about brain disorders. The class ended at 11:30, and I actually don't remember what else I did besides have a brief meeting with my professor for history to discuss the accommodations I would need, and go to a cookout sponsored by Intervarsity Christian Fellowship, a club I wanted to join, but still to this day have not had time to commit to. Wednesday was another day off where my mom helped me get to a convocation event, which is basically an assembly welcoming new and old students back, and formally opening the school year, but the rest of the day was more loneliness, because even when I went to the dining room for meals, the person helping me get my food would just plop me at a table, and often the people at the table already knew each other and didn't notice me, and I was still too shy back then to make dinner arrangements with the friends I had made. In fact, I still remember vividly that my parents were going out to dinner near campus, and had invited me, but I had declined hoping that I could find some friends in the dining room and be social. When I didn't find anyone I knew, and it didn't help that the dinner that night wasn't even good, I hurried back to my dorm room and cried. The next day would be the first official day of classes, so with nothing to do, I think I went to bed early.
The next morning was another episode of inefficient fumbling to get Gilbert and me ready for school, but once I got to Rankin, I didn't have to worry about going anywhere else because all of my academic classes were in that building. In my break from 10:00 to 1:00, I just stayed in Rankin all semester so I didn't have to risk getting lost. But it wasn't long before traveling became the least of my worries. Even on Thursday, I already had a chapter of reading due for Friday in English, and since I didn't have my books in braille yet, Mom took me to Denny's for dinner, and while waiting for our food read the chapter out loud to me, and then took me to the one and only official intervarsity meeting I would feel like attending that year. Friday was the same ritual of frantically getting myself ready to meet Mom for the walk to Rankin, but after class, my mom was going to take me back to the dorm, but with one look at me, she could tell I was exhausted, which I was, and strongly advised me to come home for the weekend and rest. Since I had heard that my college is a suitcase college, meaning many students go home for the weekend, I accepted this advice.
Before I continue, I should mention that Gilbert wasn't handling the dorm well either. When people came to visit my dorm room, he was joyful and friendly as usual, but when we were alone, I could tell he was depressed. I think he was lonely too, and he coped with it by going into his cage and sleeping on the dog bed, and not reacting when I tried to pet him and console him. I wanted to play with him, but there was not enough space in the room to throw a ball, and I didn't know of anywhere safe on campus for him to play off leash, so sleeping was really the only thing he could do. I think when we went home on Labor Day, he knew we would be going back soon, so he didn't get too excited. But I will never forget his reaction when we walked into the house Friday afternoon and I had unhooked his leash and harness. He actually ran several laps around the house as if he was saying, "We're home! It's so good to be home!" I think Gilbert must have sensed what I didn't realize at the time; that the week I had slept in the dorm would be the longest consecutive stretch of dorm life I would ever have. I was essentially moving home for good. It was clear that Gilbert and I preferred to be home. That nigh, I enjoyed a wonderful homecooked dinner, and then my mom went with Gilbert and me for a walk, a walk in which Gilbert guided me around a dead squirrel in the road that my mom stepped on, mistaking it for tar, reminding me again what an awesome guide dog he was (smile). It was just what we needed to relax after a stressful first week. I think Saturday, I took the day off, and on Sunday, my dad spent all afternoon reading my first ridiculously long history chapter to me. My parents were originally going to take me back to the dorm Sunday evening, but my mom said I should sleep at home, and they would drive me to school in the morning. At first I was reluctant because our family is not made up of morning people, and I was afraid I would be late. But I am so glad that I did agree to stay home in the end because we made sure to allow enough time in the morning to get ready and leave on time, and the combination of three nights in my own bed, and getting ready in the familiarity of home meant a restful, smooth start to my second week of college.
It wasn't long before a routine was established. Mom or Dad would drive me to school, and get me to Rankin, I would go to class, and they would pick me up at 1:00 when classes ended. Then we would go to lunch in the dining room simply because we had to since signing up for the dorm meant we had to buy a huge meal plan, and if we didn't use the meals, we would lose money. Some days, my parents would pack me a lunch or take me out for a quick lunch before heading to the Badger Association of the Blind for more lessons in using Jaws. Then, we would go home, where my parents could sit on much more comfortable furniture to read the assigned chapters in the books that hadn't been brailled, which often took most of the evening. Then I would e-mail assignments to my teacher since the dorm allowed me to receive e-mails through the braille note but would not let me send them for some reason, and I didn't trust the technology people on campus to help me since most likely they were not familiar with braille notes. Then I would go to bed and begin another day.
My computer did arrive at the end of September, and we decided to have it installed in the dorm thinking that once I got more settled into college life, I would be at the dorm most of the time. But this was not the case. Sometimes my parents would drop me off on a Friday night if I had a research assignment, and I would spend Saturday doing research at the dorm and they would pick me up when they got off work. I did stay on campus occasionally if there was something going on, like a journalism workshop I wanted to attend. But for the most part, you could say I was living at home, and this was made symbolically official when my parents brought my computer home so I could use it over Christmas break when the dorms were closed, and that is where my computer has resided ever since.
Despite all of the stress that the first semester of college threw my way, at this point in the semester last year, I had considered it a success. Maybe living at home meant my social life was lacking a little, but I did make one really close friend who ate lunch with me twice a week, and who came to my dorm to visit a couple times. Although I missed out on a lot of social opportunities, I was thriving academically. I was getting an A or B in all of my classes, and on one English paper, my teacher told me I had the highest grade in the class. Usually I am not one to brag about my grades, but considering all of the difficulties of first semester, I was glowing when I found this out. Academic performance is the reason why I am in school to begin with, so a limited social life was a small price to pay. Although I still had my first round of final exams of my college career ahead of me this time last year, I knew that after coming this far, the exams were just a formality. I had basically made it through my first semester of college. I had gathered through my older siblings, parents, and the meetings I went to in orientation that the first semester of college was always the hardest since college is a world away from high school. I knew that with each new semester, there would be new challenges, but I also knew that since I had handled first semester so well, I could handle anything.

One year ago today was the big day. In almost the same way that most young girls dream of their wedding day, I had dreamed of the day when I would be a certified guide dog user since I was the little girl reading “Greff: The Story of a Guide Dog”, and I couldn’t believe that this day had actually arrived! I woke up at the usual time, and when the dog trainer came, we did obedience together for the last time, and we had now reached the point where Gilbert could do obedience outside and off leash. Then, the dog trainer wanted to work Gilbert one more time, and asked me where I wanted to go. To celebrate all of our hard work, he agreed to let me just take Gilbert for a leisurely walk on my street again, and once again, he walked at a distance behind me, and there were no problems. And after that, it was all over but the signing of contracts He read me the school’s contract which stated that the school legally owned Gilbert until he was retired, and the school would determine when he should be retired. I know the ownership issue is argued about a lot on the guide dog discussion lists, but personally, I don’t mind the fact that the school legally owns him because I view ownership as just a legal technicality. It has never gotten in the way of my bonding with Gilbert, and in every other regard, he is my dog. The school had the right to take Gilbert away if he were ever abused or mistreated, and even though I would never even think about mistreating Gilbert, I think this is a good precaution because unfortunately, people do mistreat their dogs, and it would not be fair if a guide dog had to live with an abusive owner when someone else would appreciate a guide dog, and treat them well. Then I was issued my identification card with a picture of Gilbert and me on it, and the trainer told me to have it on me whenever I am out in public so I could present it if I ever had access issues. And then there was just some last minute advice like if I am ever going to travel on an airplane, or take a long car ride, I should not feed him the morning of the trip because food can upset their stomachs in those kinds of situations, and there may not be a place to relieve him. He also told me that there were still some things I could work on like giving harder leash corrections if he is being naughty, and recommended I use the pinch collar when he is working. The week before, he had shown me how to put on the pinch collar, but I must confess that I have never used it since graduation. It fits so tightly, and getting the pointy things on one end, and stretching them to fit the holes on the other end really was hard on my fingers, and I sure wasn’t going to go through that every day. But I am slowly getting better about giving effective leash corrections. Contrary to what people accuse me of thinking, I know that the corrections don’t hurt the dog, and on the first day of training, the dog trainer put the chain around my arm so I could feel what a correction is like. It is just a little squeeze, but not enough to hurt them. But the main reason that I don’t always give good corrections are that if I trip over something for example, I am not always sure if it really was Gilbert’s fault, or if I was not staying up with him enough, or wasn’t keeping my feet straight or when it is a crowded setting where bumping in to people is inevitable. I would hate to give him a correction when it wasn’t really his fault. And when an infraction was absolutely positively his fault, usually wanting to say hello to other dogs while we are working, by the time I realize he is being naughty, I am practically running to keep up with him, and I have a hard time giving a good correction while moving. But like I said, I think I am getting better. I am starting to recognize sooner when he is going to be naughty, so I can plant my feet and deliver better leash corrections. My mom and I also bought a couple more links for the pinch collar recently, which I am going to try and use more often, especially in situations where I know we will encounter other dogs, Gilbert’s biggest weakness.
While I knew that corrections would not hurt him, I was still afraid that I might hurt him in some other way. Whenever we were getting out of a car or standing up from a table, and his leash got tangled up in his paws, I was afraid to pick up his paws because my pet dogs in the past never let me do it, and I didn’t know if I might accidentally hurt him. So I think that one year ago today, the trainer had me do an exercise of just picking up his paws, and he demonstrated how high I could pick them up. Now I have no second thought about picking up his paws when I need to. He also noticed my surprise a couple days earlier when he would smack Gilbert, hard I thought while rubbing his belly, and I will never forget when the trainer said “your dog is not made of glass.” It turned out that dogs really do like to be smacked like that because when I started doing it, he wagged his tail. The trainer told me to treat him like I own him, and that’s when I realized that just because the school legally owned him, he really was my dog. But other than my weak corrections, which he knew I would get better at in time, and my fear of hurting him, he was completely confident that Gilbert and I were ready to begin a wonderful life together. There was just one more ceremony that evening, and then it would be official.
I got the afternoon off, and I don’t remember what I did besides taking Gilbert to the vet to get his nails trimmed, and getting us all dressed up for the big ceremony. I think I wore the same dress I wore for high school graduation, and Gilbert wore a cute bandana someone made for him with his name in big raised print letters. Gilbert made it clear on the second day of training that he wasn’t too fond of the bandana by chewing off the corner of it (smile). My mom found it hanging by a thread, and decided to cut that part off. We made him wear the bandana that day though because he did look so cute in it, but he was cooperative and agreed to wear it without any additional protest (laugh). Then my mom, dad and I drove to the banquet hall located in a fancy hotel, where the ceremony would be held. What a wonderful evening it was! Everyone I had hoped would be able to come was there including my vision teacher, my two teacher assistants that had worked with me when I was in school, one from first through fourth grade, and the other from fifth grade through first semester of senior year, as well as another blind friend who also has a guide dog, and gave me a lot of wonderful advice and support. We had a formal dinner with salad, bread, marinated chicken, rice and of course, cake. And then just like with high school graduation, there were the speeches, and like I said in the entry about high school graduation, I love speeches. These speeches were especially thrilling, especially when the dog trainer talked about how far Gilbert and I had come since that day when I didn’t even want to step off the curb, and he nailed it on the head when he reminded me that I did not have a balance problem, just a confidence problem. I gave a speech thanking everyone in the program, and all of the people who made donations to make Gilbert’s training, and my training possible. When I was situated at the podium for my speech, Gilbert was given to the puppy raisers who officially presented him to me after the speech, a sweet moment I will never forget. And to end this wonderful evening, a slideshow with pictures of Gilbert and me during training was presented, and though I couldn’t see the pictures, I could sense the excitement in the room when the audience saw the pictures, proof of how far Gilbert and I had come, and of what a wonderful team we would be.
I also received a goody bag with a chocolate dog, and some dog treats, but the most precious souvineer was a bookmark that was placed at every table setting. On this bookmark was a picture of Gilbert, and a beautiful poem the president of the school wrote to send us off on our new life together.
I was born to serve and lead the way
For a very special girl-every day.
I’m sweet, cautious, and her best friend.
I’ll guide her safely til the very end.
Day by day we bond a little more
As we open new doors and go explore.
She loves me, pets me, and gives me food!
She makes me feel like quite the Dude!
I will keep her safe and give her my love.
For this match is truly a gift from above!
This incredible journey has just begun.
I’ve changed a life! Her heart I’ve won!
Guide dog Gilbert
And that night as I said goodbye to the trainer, and the president, who I would not see again for months, and left the banquet hall, I realized with a little nervousness, but mostly excitement that our journey together really had officially begun, but we were both ready to enjoy it, challenges and all.

You know that feeling you got as a kid toward the end of the school year, the feeling that you just don’t care about school anymore, and you just want to graduate and be done? Well, this is kind of how I felt on my second to last day of dog training, and the feeling was even worse because I felt a cold coming on Wednesday night, and I felt tired and sluggish on Thursday. And did you ever notice how at the moment you just are ready to be done with school, the teacher throws a really hard assignment or a time consuming project at you? This too, happened on the second to last day of training one year ago today.
After doing the usual obedience routine at my house, the dog trainer wanted to go to my college one more time to practice the routes. But pretty soon, I would find out he had more in store for me than just practicing the usual routes. As we approached the campus, the dog trainer let out a suspicious little laugh and said something like “I’ve got a challenge for you today,” and I don’t know how I knew it because I had never talked to other guide dog handlers to expect drop-offs, but somehow I knew that was his plan, and my suspicions were confirmed when after I said, “are you going to drop me off and have me find my way back?” he said in amazement “How did you know?” I just knew, and when he laughed again at another excellent challenge he found for me, I guessed correctly that he had found a car for Gilbert and I to walk around during the route. So it was quickly becoming clear that just because the official test was over did not mean the challenges were over.
So the dog trainer dropped the president of the program, along with her guide dog, and me off somewhere, and the only hint he gave me was that I had walked on that sidewalk before. I am actually really glad that the president of the program came along because although she couldn’t help me much since I had traveled the area more than she had and thus knew the area better, just knowing someone was with me made me feel a lot less nervous.
I should mention before I continue with the dropoff story, that the day before, the president of the program came to observe training again, and when she came earlier in my training, she did not bring her dog, so my mom did sighted guide with her. But this last week, the dog trainer told her to bring her dog so that I could get used to how Gilbert would behave when walking with another guide dog. It was definitely something to get used to because the dog trainer said that dogs naturally want to be in the lead, so when Gilbert walks with another guide dog, he does walk a little faster. So every couple blocks, the president and I would switch which dog was in the lead. So for awhile, Gilbert and I would be walking fast to keep up with her dog, and then we would switch, and Gilbert would slow down a little. At first, I didn’t like how fast Gilbert seemed to be going, but I soon got used to it when I realized Gilbert was still doing a great job of guiding safely.
Anyway, the dog trainer dropped us off, told us to meet him in the campus center, and drove away. He had told me to just start walking down the sidewalk, and when I heard someone approaching, ask them where I was. The goal of this exercise wasn’t to make me a nervous wreck (smile). The goal was to show me that if I got lost, which he guaranteed I would, that I could stay calm, ask for help, and find my way back. Until this dropoff, the dog trainer never really put me in a situation where I would get lost. He only allowed me to make one mistake the week before when I was leaving Rankin Hall to go back to the campus center. As soon as I get out of Rankin, I was supposed to turn right, but one day, I forgot and walked straight. When I was walking in the wrong direction for five minutes or so, and it was clear I hadn’t noticed my mistake, he rescued me. So today was the day I would be somewhat lost and alone with my guide dog for the first time.
So we started walking, and pretty soon, we heard a lady walking by, and I got her attention and asked her what street I was on. To my relief, we really were on a familiar street, and we said thank you and kept walking. But I think for some reason, I didn’t think to ask what side of the street we were on, so I wasn’t sure if I needed to cross the street, or if I was on the right side of the street for the campus center. So we kept walking nervously until we came to a street corner, where I think we stood and waited for several minutes until we heard another person approaching. When we asked this man where the campus center, I remember his directions being very unclear. I don’t remember what he said, but I think he tried taking my hand and pointing in the direction of the campus center, and from what he said, it sounded like I would need to cross the street. Even though I was still confused, I thanked him for his help and let him go because I didn’t want him to think I was stupid or something by making him be more specific in his directions. But just as I was about to step off the curb and cross the street, the dog trainer magically appeared! Even though he said that he would meet me at the campus center, he must have been watching from a distance the whole time. He confirmed that the second person gave me bad directions, and rescued me by saying I really did not need to cross the street, that I should just keep walking along the sidewalk. I think he also said that it wouldn’t be uncommon for sighted people to give unclear directions, and told me not to be afraid to ask someone to clarify, or ask them more questions. So even though the dropoff was nervewracking, it taught me valuable lessons. The fact that I survived the dropoff taught me that it is not the end of the world if you get lost, and that I was capable of asking people for help and not panicking. In fact, I even kept myself calm during the dropoff by pretending it was a reality television game (smile). I have never gotten as totally lost with Gilbert as I did on the dropoff, but I did get slightly lost a couple of times at the beginning of the year. In one incident, on the second day in the dorm, Gilbert and I were walking back from the dining room, and instead of taking me through the tunnel, he walked me in to another dining room that was empty at the time, which is right next to the tunnel. In this incident, I did start to panic a little because there was no one who would see me that I could ask for help. But then I realized that at least this time, I actually knew where I was, even if I didn’t know how to get out. I think I took a few deep breaths to calm down, let go of the harness, trailed along the wall until I found the door, walked out, picked up the harness, and we were back on track again! This incident proved that since I could stay calm for a dropoff, I was well prepared for anything that came my way.
But the day’s challenges still were not over. Before long, I made it successfully back to the campus center, and after patting me on the back, the dog trainer had me run through the route again for the president. Once again, there were no problems, but instead of lunch to look forward to after this route, the dog trainer said we needed to practice city buses. Even in the cane days, I absolutely hated city buses. Part of the reason I probably hated, actually still hate them, is because I am not used to them since I live in the suburbs where I don’t have access to them, and my parents don’t mind driving me wherever I need to go. But I think I could still argue that if I lived in the city, and had to use city buses, or any other kind of public transportation for that matter, I might get used to it, but I don’t think I could ever like it. To me it just seems so exhausting and inefficient. I still sigh when I think about this camp for the blind I went to. It was a one week day camp, and it was a lot of fun except for the day we went to Navy Pier in Chicago. The day began at 6:30, which was the time everyone had to meet at the school where the camp was held. From the school we all walked to the bus stop, which I think was like a 20 minute walk. Then we stood and waited for the bus. When the bus came, we got on, but of course, the bus starts moving before everyone can find a seat, so I practically fall on my face. The bus takes us to a stop near, but not at the train station, so we get off the bus and walk some more. Then we finally got on the train, and though it was pleasant and relaxing, I swear the train ride took longer than it takes my parents to drive. When we got off the train, we took a trolley, which finally got us to our intended destination! Then I think we maybe had two hours of actual time at Navy Pier before we did the whole thing in reverse: the trolley back to the train, the train to the station in Milwaukee, the walk from the station to the bus stop, the bus ride to the stop near the school, and finally the walk back to the school! I think we got home at 7:00 or so that evening, and I remember when I calculated it that day, we actually did spend more time in transit, than at our destination! Of course people who take public transportation to work wouldn’t have that much travel time, but just having to walk so much, and then wait for a bus has to be frustratingly inefficient!
Sorry, I am done ranting. Anyway, this inefficient trip to Navy Pier the summer before last was my last public transportation experience, and I remembered it well enough to not be eager about using it again. But I also recognized that eventually I may have to use public transportation, so it was a good idea to practice with the dog trainer. So we walked from the campus center to the bus stop, which actually wasn’t far at all, which made me feel a little more positive about this exercise. Then we waited five minutes or so for the bus, and to my relief, there were very few people on the bus, and the driver had no problem with waiting for Gilbert and me to get situated. But getting situated with a dog I found out, was a lot more difficult than getting situated with a cane. The dog trainer said that I needed to get Gilbert all the way under the seat so he wouldn’t get tripped over or stepped on when other people got on the bus. But Gilbert was heavy, and I was exhausted from the dropoff, and my cold. I think the dog trainer ended up having to help me lift Gilbert and roll him under the seat. I think we didn’t end up riding long, maybe two or three blocks, enough to get downtown a little bit. Then it seemed to take me forever to get my backpack on, and get Gilbert out from under the seat and off the bus, and the dog trainer seemed a little irritated that I was holding everyone up. Then when we got off the bus, it felt like everyone was on a dropoff (smile). My mom, who had come along that day, knew the area a little bit, but the president and dog trainer did not know the area at all. So we had to stand on the sidewalk for a few minutes and figure out where we were and where we wanted to go. And then, I know this may sound silly, but at my college, I had become familiar with the feeling of the sidewalk, and felt like I knew where the dips and bumps were. But these sidewalks seemed bumpier than the ones on campus, and I felt a little stressed and overwhelmed by them. I didn’t fall, and I knew by then of course that it is no big deal to fall, but I just wanted to be done with these sidewalks and go back to the friendly sidewalks on campus. I still get a little nervous when my parents take me to other places besides my campus or the street by my house, but I have goten better about trusting Gilbert to guide me. As for city buses, I have not been on one with Gilbert since training. If I ever have to learn them, I will, but right now, allowing someone to drive me is just fine! But anyway, all of the stress was worth it in the end when I was rewarded with lunch at an Italian restaurant, and I don’t know if the restaurant really is fabulous, or if I was just especially ravenous after the stressful morning, but that was some of the best garlic bread and pasta I had ever had! We enjoyed a delicious meal and talked about all that has happened the last three weeks. After lunch, we walked all the way back to the car because it really was only a couple blocks, and I got the rest of the afternoon off. And I didn’t appreciate it then, but looking back, I realize that this day was a sweet moment. The next day, we would take a final walk on my street with Gilbert, and sign contracts, but my formal training was complete! I had mastered all of the challenges presented to me. Gilbert and I were prepared to be turned loose to start our life together.

One year ago today was the second day of my last week of dog training. It was starting to sink in by then that in only three days, Gilbert and I would be certified, and turned loose to brave the world on our own. On the first week of training, the trainer said that on the third week, he would stand back and watch us do our routes, but there would be a test in which he would not help us at all unless we were in eminent danger. I remember shuddering when I realized that the third week had arrived because even though I now felt pretty confident with Gilbert, the prospect of being tested always makes me nervous. The trainer did not tell me in advance when the test would be because just like with the traffic check, he didn’t want me to get worked up over it, but just knowing a test was coming made me nervous enough. I rationalized however that the test would most likely happen at the very end of the week, the final step to proving myself capable of working with a guide dog before graduation. Therefore, one year ago today, the test did not cross my mind.
In the morning, after the usual obedience routine at my house, we went to the college, and breezed through my route, and the dog trainer also had me take Gilbert to the disability services office to introduce myself and Gilbert to the staff there, and inquire about a ride from campus safety to a building that required crossing a street that did not have a light, something my parents and the dog trainer agreed was not safe. Campus safety was not eager to give me a ride because they want to encourage independence, but since only one of my four classes was in this building, the disability services office did manage to move the class to Rankin Hall where all of my other three classes were held, which was a wonderful stress reliever for my first semester. Anyway, after this, we had our usual Mexican lunch, and then went back to my college.
When we got back to the campus, the dog trainer told me to run through my routes again as if Gilbert and I were going about our daily routine. I could hear the trainer walking at quite a distance behind me, but he had stayed far back since last Thursday, so I thought nothing of it. Gilbert and I confidently walked from my dorm to East Avenue. I listened to traffic, and knowing that the dog trainer would yell if I crossed at a bad time, we confidently crossed the street, found all of my classrooms in Rankin, and walked back to the Campus Center. When I got back to the campus center, I will never forget the joy, excitement and relief that filled me when in addition to “good job!” the trainer added, “you passed the test!” In an academic setting, I hate pop quizzes, but this was the perfect scenario for a pop quiz! I walked my route calmly and confidently as if it was just another typical walk, and by not knowing this was the test, I never got nervous and made silly mistakes that I wouldn’t have made otherwise. Just like the traffic check, the test proved to be nothing to worry about.
After passing this test so brilliantly, the dog trainer took me home, and on Wednesday and Thursday, we would go back to my college in the morning to practice, but since the pressure was off, we did relaxing things in the afternoon. On Wednesday afternoon, we walked on a pleasant trail along a river near my college. It wasn’t entirely pleasant since there was some kind of factory near the trail making parts of the trail stinky. But the walk itself was peaceful for both Gilbert and me. And actually on Thursday, I think the dog trainer gave me the afternoon off. Gilbert and I had proven ourselves capable of navigating the campus with dignity and confidence. Just like the prospect of doing a traffic check, or taking a test seemed scarier than it really was, I was now beginning to realize that while being on my own with Gilbert would be challenging at first, this too was nothing I couldn’t handle.

What I will always remember about one year ago today is the feeling of exhilaration, mixed with a hint of nervousness because I had two weeks of training done, and only one more to go before I would be a certified guide dog user. I really wasn’t worried about Gilbert not working out because we had made such wonderful progress last week, but still I couldn’t help but think that if something went wrong this week, after bonding with Gilbert for two weeks, I would be devastated. As you know, nothing must have caused the trainer too much concern because things did work out. There were challenges the last week too, but after mastering so many challenges the first two weeks, including the dreaded traffic check at the end of last week which I forgot to mention, I was confident that I could handle anything.
I must digress from talking about the last week of training and the challenges that came with it, to talk about the traffic check experience because it is perhaps the most important, and the most frightening part of training. When I first found out that I would be getting Gilbert, the dog trainer said that he wasn’t sure if Gilbert would work out because although he had sailed through harness training, he had not had traffic training yet, and part of traffic training involvessomeone purposely bumping the dog with a car, lightly, so the dog is not harmed of course, but enough to teach the dog to respect cars, and learn that guiding a blind person through traffic is serious business. The dog trainer said that a lot of potential guide dogs do wonderfully in training, but when it comes to the traffic part, many do not make it as a guide dog because they cannot handle the pressure, and Gilbert is somewhat of a timid dog. To my relief, Gilbert did not end up being too timid to pass the traffic training, but at the end of the second week, we would have to pass traffic training together.
On the first day of training, the dog trainer said that Gilbert and I would have a traffic check, but he wasn’t going to tell me when because he didn’t want me to get too nervous about it. On Thursday morning, we went to my college as usual, but after lunch, I kind of suspected something was up when instead of going back to the college for the afternoon, he took me home, and wanted to take Gilbert and me for a nice walk on our country road again. The walk went wonderfully by the way, with my mom and the dog trainer walking at a distance behind me. The only unpleasant thing that happened was that one of the notoriously bratty neighborhood boys drove by and blasted his horn, scaring the senses out of Gilbert, but I quickly got him to the left, and things calmed down pretty fast. Anyway, I think it was after this walk, when he knew I would be relaxed, that he broke the news. Tomorrow was the big day. He said he wasn’t going to tell me until the moment it happened, but he realized that when he told me to wait in the car, while he talked to the police officer he had secretly arranged to try and run me over, I would be suspicious, so he broke the news early, but told me not to worry about it because he will be standing right behind me, and nothing bad will happen. I couldn’t help being a little anxious anyway-It’s not every day that someone purposely tries to run you over with a car after all (smile. But I slept pretty well since I could tell the trainer was a safety conscious person. The next morning, the dog trainer came to my house for the usual obedience routine, and as of that Wednesday, the dog trainer was bringing distractions for Gilbert while I give him commands, like throwing a squeaky ball right in front of him when he was supposed to stay. To my amazement, Gilbert would jump a little bit, and think about going after it, but I don’t think he ever officially broke the stay! He is such an awesome dog! Anyway, after obedience, we drove to an area with sidewalks downtown, and I waited while the dog trainer who talked to the cop, and to my mom’s relief, it was someone from our church whom she knew and trusted, and she said if anyone was going to try and run me over, she wanted it to be him (smile). The dog trainer was right: I was worrying over nothing. I think we practiced three scenarios. First, I was told to tell Gilbert forward and cross the street, while the cop made a turn right in front of us. I think for this scenario, Gilbert was supposed to back up so I was out of the way of the car, which he did without a problem. Then, the cop parked in the middle of the road, and Gilbert had to lead me around the car, which he did expertly. Finally, I was supposed to tell Gilbert to cross, when a car was coming, a scenario in which Gilbert was trained to disobey me, and not cross until the coast was clear, and this too, he did without any incident. The dog trainer wanted to practice more, but since the cop was on duty, he had to leave and respond to an emergency, but it was great that I got a small taste of what Gilbert was trained to do in traffic. The only thing I still worry about is that if there was ever a real life situation where Gilbert had to back me up quickly, or disobey because a car was coming, would we know what to do on our own? Fortunately, Gilbert and I have never had any incidents because so far, whenever I cross streets, the drivers sharing the road with me have been responsible and courteous. But if I ever did encounter an irresponsible driver, would Gilbert remember what he was trained to do? Also, when the cop simulated traffic scenarios, it was done cautiously, and in slow motion. If a car was coming at me full speed, would Gilbert be able to get me out of the way fast enough? Like I said, I have not yet been in a situation where Gilbert’s traffic training could be put to the test, but I guess this is one of those areas where guide dog handlers have to just trust their judgment, and their dog’s instincts, and hope for the best. When traffic training was over, I think the dog trainer, my mom and I took another walk, and then I had the weekend off. As I reflect back on the start of our last week of training, I will remember that week as a week of tying everything together, the week when, if challenges came my way, the dog trainer was going to step back and let Gilbert and I bond and solve problems as a team. But with all of the confidence I gained as we practiced the college routes, and the trust I developed during the traffic training, we were ready for the challenges, and the chance to prove what a capable team we could be.
To begin this last week, after the usual obedience ritual, we went to my college again in the morning, where I think Gilbert and I breezed through my routes in record time, and then we went to Chiles for lunch. After lunch, the dog trainer said that there was one big challenge I may encounter in public situations that we did not yet practice with Gilbert, and that was escalators. I think that I secretly groaned in dread when he said this, but hopefully he did not hear me (smile). I was trying my best to prove to the dog trainer that I was confident, willing and capable of tackling new challenges, especially on the last week of training. But while much about me has changed since I was a 3-year-old little girl learning cane skills, to the present, one thing has not changed: I passionately hate escalators. When you stop and think about it, getting on and off of an escalator with a cane isn’t so bad: you just hold on to the moving rail walk right up to the edge and stick out the cane and step off. But again, my fear of falling comes back to bite me when I have to use escalators because I always have this fear that I won’t step out far enough or fast enough, and I will loose my footing, especially when I take a down escalator. My vision teacher tried her best to get me over this fear by attempting to desensitize me to escalators, and I have fond memories of her taking me to the mall for the sole purpose of riding up and down escalators over and over. I guess this technique did help some because by the time I started dog training, I got to the point that while I didn’t like to go on escalators, I didn’t dread them quite so much, and I decided to treat an escalator ride like a plunge in to freezing cold water. You just have to take a deep breath and do it. But with the prospect of having to practice escalators with Gilbert, I was filled with dread all over again. Will I know when to step on and off without holding out my cane? What if Gilbert gets scared, or isn’t as cautious as he usually is and in trying to control him, I fall? But as much as I was dreading it, I did my best to approach the situation with maturity and confidence because I knew this was something I was capable of, even if I didn’t like to do it.
So after lunch, we went to the mall, and found an escalator inside Sears. The dog trainer instructed me to find the moving rail with my right hand and to walk to the end of it and find the edge of it with my foot. Then, when I was ready, I was just supposed to tell Gilbert forward, and step off. I think that the whole time we practiced, I stepped on to the escalator as gingerly as the first day I had to step off a curb, but I managed to keep my dignity intact by not falling, and Gilbert did an excellent job. Getting off was a little more challenging though because when I did escalators with my cane, I always waited until the edge of the escalator started to slide under my toes before stepping off. But the dog trainer said that I needed to step off as soon as I felt the rail go down, otherwise Gilbert’s paws could get stuck. But I just couldn’t muster the courage to step off earlier than I was used to. What if the escalator wasn’t ready yet when I stepped off and I fell? Finally, toward the end of the session, I did manage to get the nerve to step off early, but not as gracefully as I had hoped. The dog trainer didn’t judge me on gracefulness, thankfully. What mattered to him was that I could do it!
One funny thing I have to mention is that at one point, mall security found out what we were doing, and a guy came up and said that they wanted me to take the elevator. The dog trainer explained the fact that I was practicing for my guide dog, and I was safe, and he agreed, I think reluctantly, to leave us alone. But I was actually even more determined to master escalators after that episode to prove that the poor handicapped lady and her guide dog can handle escalators (smile).
Anyway, I was successful enough for the dog trainer to feel comfortable that I could handle escalators, and as long as we were at the mall, the dog trainer also helped me pick out a backpack for school, so that was one less thing I would have to scramble around for when training was over! And it has proven to be a wonderful backpack this year, with lots of room for my stuff, and plenty of padding to protect my Braille note. I hate to admit this, but I haven’t used an escalator since training, because I actually do prefer elevators, even if I wasn’t going to tell that to mall security. I mean, why put yourself through the nervewracking experience of feeling like you will fall, or risk hurting Gilbert’s paws if you don’t have to? And, at the most, I go to the mall three times a year, and the other places I go like Walmart, and school, are either on one floor, or don’t have escalators. Maybe I should practice escalators sometime just to make sure we can still handle them, in case we are ever in a situation where we have to use them, but I can live without them.
The dog trainer also thought the mall would be a great place to practice navigating through crowds with Gilbert, and he did very well. Our mall has a lot of business, but since it is a spacious area, it isn’t terribly crowded. Gilbert and I have a little more trouble in places that are really crowded like the State Fair, and he has sometimes ran me right in to people, so dense crowds are still something we need to work on, but he does a great job in malls, and at my college, which is all that really matters.
After the mall, the dog trainer brought me home, but unlike most days, training for the day was not over. The dog trainer said he wanted to do a nighttime route with Gilbert and me because dogs see things differently at night, so he wanted to make sure that Gilbert and I wouldn’t have any problems. We decided tonight would be the best night for this route. There isn’t much to say about this walk, except that in the neighborhood my mom found for this route, we had to walk by some vicious sounding dogs, that I prayed wouldn’t jump over the fence and maul us. Gilbert did his best to ignore the dogs, and get me past them as quickly as possible. Other than that, everything went smoothly, and Gilbert did not have any vision problems, and over the past year, my parents and I have gone on several nighttime walks with him because the weather is so pleasant on summer nights.
This was also the day when the dog trainer blindfolded my parents and had them walk down our street with two dogs who were trained, but not yet matched with a person. I thought this was a wonderful idea, and I think it really helped my parents to understand what a huge adjustment it is to learn to trust a guide dog, and I wish more schools involve family members like this. Being able to observe my training, and walk with a guide dog has allowed my parents to appreciate and understand guide dogs, and thus be a wonderful source of support in difficult times. So the first day of the last week of dog training was filled with challenges, as well as learning opportunities for everyone: Gilbert and me, as well as my parents. Looking back, I realize that this day was just one more step toward not only my certification as a competent guide dog handler, but also toward a stronger bond with my parents. And both the training I received, and the incredible support and understanding that my parents also gained during training would be crucial as I simultaneously tackled the challenges of the first year of college, and my first year as a guide dog handler.

One year ago today was the end of my second week of training, and what a challenging week it was. Every day was the same exhausting routine. The dog trainer came to my house where we did obedience with Gilbert, and then we went to my college to work with Gilbert. As I mentioned before, navigating the college was full of challenges both for me, and for Gilbert. For me, the challenge was trying to remember which direction I needed to go, while at the same time having to travel with a guide dog that was definitely better than the cane, but required different skills that I had not mastered yet. For example, I especially missed being able to shoreline using the grass on the sidewalk, or the walls of the building to get my barings. Even then, I never once considered going back to the cane because Gilbert can figure out routes so much more efficiently than I ever could with my cane, and I cannot even imagine how long it would have taken me to figure out the twists and turns of the tunnel from my dorm to the dining room with my cane. But I would be lying if I didn’t admit that working with a guide dog was a lot to adjust to. But over the course of training the second week, I learned how to find the right building without having to shoreline. In the case of the building where I have my classes, once I crossed the street, I just kept walking straight until Gilbert stopped for a dip in the sidewalk, which was actually a driveway. Once I crossed this driveway, the building was just a few steps after that, and I could hear when I was in front of the building too. Once I got inside the building, I was soon able to trust that Gilbert knew what room to go to, so I didn’t need to worry.
One thing that did make the situation a little easier for me though was that when my mother came back from the funeral to observe my training the day after my fall, she noticed that in the morning, I seemed tired and had a difficult time staying focused and remembering the routes, but after lunch, I seemed to perform so much better. After this observation, it occurred to her that I was taking my stress hormone,-the same hormone I mentioned was so important for helping me tolerate the heat in Italy-at about 8:30, just before the dog trainer arrived, and she realized that maybe the hormone needed more time to take effect, and I wasn’t doing as well because the hormone didn’t take effect right away. I had never thought about this, but it made sense! I always took my pills right before leaving for school, and I was fine because school really doesn’t cause physical stress to the body. But dog training was different. My mom suggested that the next day, I take my pills earlier, so at 6:00 Wednesday morning, I got up and took my pills, before going back to sleep for another hour or so. And that day, and for the rest of training, I think I did have a little more energy, and was able to focus better in the morning! What a brilliant observation from my wonderful mother! How would I have gotten through training without her?
And for Gilbert, the biggest challenge was those darn stairs that are open in front! Monday and Tuesday, it took forever to coax Gilbert to take me to those stairs. It got to the point that on Tuesday afternoon, the dog trainer suggested that I not feed Gilbert the next morning before training. The first day of training, the dog trainer said that he prefers to train dogs using praise and encouragement, but the second week, it became evident that the only way we were going to get Gilbert to those stairs was with treats. The dog trainer used milk bones on Monday and Tuesday, but when Gilbert still wouldn’t go to those stairs eagerly, the dog trainer thought that not feeding him would make him good and hungry so that he would be more interested in the treats, and focus better. So the next day, I didn’t feed Gilbert, and the trainer brought chunks of cheese to use as treats. I think it still took some coaxing in the morning to get him to the stairs, but not quite as much, and by the end of the week, he got me to those stairs as if he had always been taking me to them! The trainer also used treats when we got to the top of those stairs because Gilbert had been trained to take me to doors, but before entering the dorm, I had to swipe my identification card on this black box to the right of the door, so we attempted to train him to take me to this box instead of the door. I don’t think Gilbert understood the concept of taking me to the box because when the trainer wasn’t watching us, and tapping the box with a treat, he always took me to the door. But the box really isn’t that hard for me to find on my own, so I just let it go.
So while the second week was a week of challenges, by the end of the week as more and more of these challenges were overcome, I began to see this week as one of turning points for both of us. With each new day, the dog trainer followed further and further behind us, until by the end of the week, we confidently walked from my dorm to class. I will never forget what a beautiful feeling it was to think how in only two weeks, Gilbert and I went from being strangers in a way, who did not trust each other fully, and constantly needed the trainer to intervene and rescue us, to what we were one year ago today, the first hints of what every guide dog team hopes to be, an independent, confident, cohesive team, making our way through life feeling just as dignified as a sighted person. I would have one more week for practicing, and fine tuning, and the dog trainer said that once he leaves, Gilbert and I will have challenges, will get lost a time or two, and guide dog handlers say it often takes six months to a year before a guide dog team really feels comfortable with each other. But at the end of the second week, I will always remember the wonderful feeling that comes with the first somewhat independent walk, the feeling of promise, of endless possibilities and independence. By the end of the second week, when I had my first taste of the independence that a guide dog offers, I knew that no matter how overwhelming the challenges that came our way in the weeks and months after the dog trainer left, I vowed that I would remember what a wonderful team Gilbert and I were capable of being, and I would stay with Gilbert, in good times and bad.

Monday morning did not begin quite as smoothly as I had hoped. My mom had to go to a funeral up in Michigan, and after my dad dropped her off at the boat dock where she would take the lake express fairy, I think he went to the YMCA, because I don’t think he was home when I woke up. I was home alone on Saturday though, and had no problems relieving Gilbert and getting back to the house, so I was confident that I would be fine today too. I was wrong.
To start with, I forgot to bring a poop bag with me, and of course, Gilbert pooped. Nowadays, if I forget to bring a poop bag and I am at home, I just leave it, and my parents said they don’t mind shoveling it later because people don’t walk through our yard very often anyway, and at the dorm, I would triple check to make sure I brought a poop bag. But one year ago today, I forgot to bring a poop bag, but I was in a pickle. If the dog trainer came before my dad could get home and show me where the poop was, and saw poop in the yard, he would be upset with me, and obviously, I don’t have the luxury of going back out to find it later. I was in my pajamas, so I had no pockets with a klinex or something like that I could use. So I did something that day that I hope to never have to do again. I picked up his poop with my bare hands. You friends reading this journal entry are the first people to hear this story because it was so gross and embarrassing I never told anyone else about it. Anyway, I started to walk back to the house, dog poop in hand, literally, but somehow, I had gotten myself turned around, and instead of ending up at the door leading in to the laundry room, I ended up by the door that leads to the kitchen. I think this door was locked, but even if it had been open, I wasn’t going to walk through the kitchen with dog poop in my hand! On top of that, the laundry room door was the perfect door because when you got outside, you had no steps to worry about, but to get to the laundry room door from the kitchen door, I had to get down five concrete steps with no rail to hold on to. I have no problem getting down one curb with nothing to hold on to, but to this day, I get so nervous about walking down multiple steps without a railing, and it wasn’t much comfort to realize that if I lost my balance and fell down these steps landing on my head, I would be on my own, and I had not brought my cell phone. And can you imagine the embarrassment of being found unconscious on your patio with dog poop in your hand? But I had to either take this risk, or wait for who knows how long, until someone got home, so I took a deep breath, held on to Gilbert’s head, and very slowly and cautiously made my way down the stairs. I was never so happy to reach the bottom of a flight of stairs and feel the flat patio under my feet! I made it safely to the laundry room door! I went in to the laundry room, found a poop bag, went back outside and threw the poop away. No one would ever have to know what I went through to pick it up (smile). Then with a sigh of relief that I had survived my first challenge alone, I washed my hands thoroughly, got dressed and ate breakfast hoping that the rest of the day would go a little more smoothly. Little did I know at that time that while I had escaped the danger of falling down steps, today would be the day I would fall for the first time with Gilbert.
When the dog trainer came, we did the usual obedience routine, and after that, I knew we would be going to my college. My dad had been working when I had my first walks with Gilbert, so the dog trainer invited him to come along and observe my training. After obedience, while the dog trainer talked to my dad about what I had done so far, I went in to the house, grabbed Gilbert’s harness, and quietly put it on. My vision teacher and the dog trainer agreed that I should be able to get the harness on in less than a minute, and after practicing the harness ten times on Sunday, I knew that I had it down pat. So I quickly and stealthily got his harness on, turned around and smiled. I will never forget how stunned and thoroughly impressed the dog trainer was when he saw how fast I had gotten that harness on. All had been forgiven. He knew that I had mastered the challenge of getting the harness on once and for all!
Soon, we were in the car and off to my college for the second week of dog training. Since I had done well with the challenges presented to me last week, this was the day the dog trainer was going to still be walking with me, but stand a little further back than before. It was kind of embarrassing when he would ask me questions like which door I had come through, or what direction I needed to go to get to the dorm, because when I practiced the routes with my vision teacher, the lessons were so spread out that I didn’t retain much from the previous lesson, and the first days of training with Gilbert at Carroll, I had been so focused on walking Gilbert that I really didn’t pay attention to where I was. It wasn’t until the end of the second week that I started to feel like I knew the route well. But what I will remember most about August 11, 2008, was the great fall!
I think the dog trainer had me walk through the tunnel to my dorm, and although we were still having our usual problems with stairs, we had not forgotten how to breeze through the tunnel over the weekend, so this walk was encouraging. And then, the dog trainer wanted me to walk the route from the dorm to the building where my classes would be. So we walked back through the tunnel, and out the door of the campus center. There was a shorter outdoor route that I would learn later in training, but today, the dog trainer wanted me to learn the indoor route which would be very useful in the winter. Anyway, I got through the tunnel, and walked out the door. Once I was outside, the plan was for me to walk straight until I was past the awning of the building and had reached the sidewalk, and then turn right and find East Avenue. But I wasn’t thinking, and later, the dog trainer said that I was letting Gilbert walk too slow, and when dogs are allowed to walk too slow, they get distracted. Anyway, Gilbert and I were both unaware that I had not turned right when I was supposed to, and Gilbrt did not realize that I was coming to a curb. So, instead of finding the curb with my left foot the way guide dog handlers are supposed to, I found this curb by landing on my bottom.
I don’t know why, but for as long as I can remember, the prospect of falling would terrify me. I think I always picture a fall in my mind as something that happens in slow motion, with the end result being a bloody injury. But in truth, every time I fell as a child, and this held true for the fall during dog training too, it happens so fast that it takes a couple seconds of sitting on the ground before your brain registers that you fell. As a child, I sometimes skinned my knee, but when I fell this time, only my ego was damaged (smile). I will never forget when the dog trainer told me on the first or second day of dog training that everyone falls sometimes, and that I will fall too. At that time, I remember thinking to myself “oh no I won’t! I am a cautious person!” I think the dog trainer could tell I had an ego problem when it came to falling too, because after he checked to make sure I was all right, and after I stood up, he came running up to me, slapped me on the back and said “congratulations! You finally fell!” I couldn’t help but laugh.
I don’t remember much else about that day except that Gilbert got a little shook up by my fall too, and did not want to go back to that curb for a while. But eventually he too realized that a fall is not so bad after all, and soon we continued with training as though nothing had happened.
So besides the valuable practice Gilbert and I got on our college routes that day, we also learned a valuable lesson, that is definitely applicable to life in general. Falling, both literally, and figuratively, is a fact of life, and although I have only fallen once with Gilbert since the trainer left, that first fall has helped me cope with the numerous figurative bumps in the road, and falls that came our way during our first year together. Whether a fall is literal, or figurative, this year I have learned that it never turns out to be as bad as you think it will be. When challenges come my way, I now know that I can get right back up and keep going!

The last day of the first week of dog training was pretty uneventful. After the usual morning routine of doing obedience with Gilbert, we went back to my college, and practiced walking to my dorm, and I think we also might have started practicing how to get to the building where my classes were held too, with my vision teacher directing him. Then we went for our Mexican lunch again, and in the afternoon, the dog trainer showed me a long sidewalk where I could walk Gilbert for additional exercise, since the distance from my dorm to class, and back was not very much. The only thing I would have to be careful of was listening for trains because I walked right over railroad tracks. But trains are not like hybrid cars: it is impossible not to hear them (smile). One thing that was kind of funny though was that when we came up to the railroad tracks, the dog trainer asked me something like, “what is it that you are standing on right now?” and I had no idea. It was only after he gave me a huge clue by saying “choo choo!” that I realized I was standing on railroad tracks. My vision teacher pointed out that I had probably never seen railroad tracks. Actually, I did get to touch them once when we walked across another set of them in downtown Milwaukee years earlier for a choir audition, but that was years earlier, and I forgot what they felt like underfoot. It is a good thing he told me so that I wouldn’t stand and dawdle unknowingly on the railroad tracks someday, and find out what they were the hard way (smile). After this walk, the first official week of dog training was complete, and I was exhausted. The dog trainer wanted to come and take a walk with me on my street to practice country roads with Gilbert and me on Saturday, but that wouldn’t take very long, and Sunday, I would get the day off!
When the dog trainer brought me home, and he was reflecting on the first week, I think he was happy that Gilbert and I were doing so well together considering how new this was for both of us, but he did give me a little bit of homework: practice, practice, practice getting Gilbert’s harness on! On top of that, the president was also putting together the invitation for my graduation party, and had asked me a couple days earlier for my guest list. I e-mailed it to her, but I had said that there was one more teacher I wanted to invite, but I did not know her e-mail address, so the dog trainer asked for me to look up her e-mail and give it to him when he came Saturday morning. I am ashamed to admit it, but both of these simple assignments were not done when the dog trainer came the next morning. I halfheartedly tried to find her e-mail address on the internet, or at least her phone number so I could call her, but she was not listed. It wasn’t until the end of the second week of training, when my mom and I had gone to do some shopping after dog training had ended for the day, that we saw her, and she gave me her e-mail address. I felt kind of stupid when she said she had written it on the bottom of the card she gave me at high school graduation, but she is a wonderful person, who was very understanding when I think I mentioned that I had gotten so many cards that I forgot her e-mail address was on her card. Anyway, I gave this address to the dog trainer right away when I got home, and this teacher was able to come to the party too, so all is well that ends well. I just wished I would have put forth a little more effort, and gone through my cards so I wouldn’t have disappointed the dog trainer with my lack of responsibility in some areas. As for practicing with the harness, something I meant to do every day since Tuesday when I first learned how to put it on, Gilbert and I came home exhausted every day. I didn’t have any ambition left to do anything but the bare minimum: all I wanted to do was read, or watch television in the evening with my parents until it was time to feed Gilbert, take him out to relieve, and go to bed. Besides, I could tell that Gilbert was exhausted too, since as soon as I came in and sat down, within seconds, he was snoring at my feet. I didn’t have the heart to make him stand while I put the harness on and took it off over and over again. That Friday night was no exception: I decided that I would watch the opening ceremony of the Beijing Olympics, and practice the harness in the morning before the dog trainer came. But as luck would have it, the dog trainer arrived earlier than he said he would, and on top of the fact that I was still in my pajamas when the doorbell rang, I also had to confess that I had not practiced the harness at all. So, the morning was not starting off well, and I could tell the dog trainer was a little aggrevated with me.
Fortunately, the dog trainer seemed to forgive me, and it ended up being a very pleasant morning. We took a walk from my house down our country road until we came to a regular busy street. It was kind of a problem when the dog trainer asked me if, when I walked this road with my dad, as I told him I did, whether we turned and took the bike path, or kept going straight. I honestly didn’t know, because when I do sighted guide, I don’t pay attention to where we are going. I think we settled on the bike path route that day, and it turned out that when I asked my parents about the route when they came home from work, they said we keep going straight. Oh well. It was still a wonderful walk, and at the end of the last week of training, my mom showed the trainer the correct route, and Gilbert learned it without a problem. On that Saturday morning, the dog trainer taught me to make sure that Gilbert is walking on the left side of the road, and if I heard a car coming, I should tell Gilbert to holt, and then say left, and get myself in to the grass by the side of the road so I would be well out of the way of the passing car. After this pleasant two mile walk, the dog trainer got two other dogs that were in training out of his truck, and Gilbert had a blast playing with them in our two acre yard. Before he left, he gave me a bone that he told me to put Gilbert in his crate before giving it to him because it was messy. Gilbert had a blast with this bone too, and by the end of the weekend, he had eaten all of the chicken out of it (smile). As for the outside of the bone, it is still intact, and he still loves to chew on it. I don’t remember doing much the rest of Saturday, but I will never forget the next day, Sunday August 10, because that was the first time I went somewhere with Gilbert, but without the dog trainer. The first place I took Gilbert without the dog trainer was to church. My mom had tried to convince me that I could leave Gilbert at home in his crate for church since one of them always went with me anyway and it might disrupt the worship service, and be difficult to work Gilbert. But I was happy when my mom’s hairdresser took my side and said that Gilbert would mostly just be sitting in church, just like he will be sitting in class, so why not just take him? After this reassurance, my mom agreed to let me take Gilbert to church too, and the dog trainer was fine with me taking Gilbert to church as well, but said that since I had only had a week of training, he wanted me to put Gilbert’s harness on, but hold the leash and do sighted guide,and not to work him yet. This was fine with me because to be honest, I didn’t feel confident to work him without the trainer either. I just wanted to expose him to public settings and see how he behaved, and how others received him. Getting him in to our minivan for the first time was a little more difficult than I thought it would be because I think we didn’t move the seat forward enough to give him room to get in, but on the second try, he was in, and I was sure right about my feet being more comfortable! Gilbert behaved perfectly through the service, and only stood up once, but that was understandable because the whole congregation was standing, so he probably thought the service was over (smile). I got him laying down again without a problem. My dad isn’t the type of person who likes to socialize after church, and I think he was a little embarrassed about drawing attention to the dog, so I don’t think we talked to anyone that first Sunday except the priest, and I will never forget when he said “and who is your new friend here?” I knew at that moment that Gilbert was welcome in church. A few weeks later, I think my dad was a little more comfortable taking Gilbert to church, and we had a great time introducing Gilbert to some of our friends, and letting some little children pet him.
After church, we took Gilbert for a walk down our street and back, and although I was using sighted guide for this walk too, I was amazed by Gilbert’s behavior even when he wasn’t working. Gilbert was walking perfectly at my heels, not trying to race ahead and sniff something, practically yanking my arm out of its socket like Indy and Mojo did! I was beginning to think guide dogs really were perfect (smile). Shortly after this walk, my grandma came over, and we went to Red Lobster for lunch, and once again, Gilbert went right under the table and behaved perfectly through the meal. And best of all, all of the waiters, and some of the diners adored him. I don’t remember what I did the rest of that day, but I did practice getting the harness on! I could tell that the dog trainer was serious about the importance of me practicing how to put the harness on smoothly and quickly, and after my first full day with Gilbert, I became even more determined to prove that I really was responsible, and could master all of the challenges that come with a guide dog. I also realized that evening that I forgot to do obedience with him, so that evening, I did obedience with him for the first time in the living room, and even though the dog trainer was not there to intervene, he obeyed me perfectly.
I couldn’t have asked for a more successful and peaceful first weekend with Gilbert, and by Monday morning, I felt rested and rejuvenated, ready to begin another week of challenges, and triumphs with Gilbert by my side.

The fourth day of training was the day where the most important part of dog training began. All of the things we did in dog training were important of course, and they had already presented challenges for me. But today was the day we would practice the routes I would use most often with Gilbert. One year ago today was our first visit to my college campus.
After meeting at my house to do obedience quickly with Gilbert, my vision teacher, the dog trainer and I left for the college. In one sense, I was excited to walk with Gilbert for the first time on my college campus to see how well we worked as a team of course, but also because this would be our first venture in to a public setting. All of the other routes I had done with Gilbert so far had been outdoors so I really didn’t encounter other people. How would the public react to a guide dog? Despite all of the discrimination issues, and access denials I heard about, the dog trainer pointed out that usually, the public loves dogs, I was eager to find out whether this would hold true for Gilbert and me. At the same time, I was also apprehensive about working Gilbert in buildings for the first time. If I was afraid of one curb, how would Gilbert and I handle a flight of stairs? In a way, I wanted the car ride to last forever, so I wouldn’t have to face the stress and exhaustion that was sure to come with this new challenge. But actually, this drive to my college was the longest car ride I had with Gilbert so far: it takes about half an hour to drive from my house to college. And as I mentioned before, my legs get stiff and cramped after a car ride since I have to bend them to make room for Gilbert. Indeed, my legs were stiff after this ride, and despite being a little nervous since the most important part of dog training was just minutes away now, I realized that the car ride lasted long enough.
When we arrived at my college, the dog trainer parked on a street close to my dorm, and we walked down a sidewalk to the corner of East Avenue, where we were going to cross, and enter the campus center. Gilbert and I were comfortable on sidewalks now, so I thought this was a good way to start. But when we got to the street corner, I realized that since I did not have a cane anymore, it would be more difficult to find the pole with the blind crossing light on it. When I did the routes during the school year with my vision teacher, we discovered that you had to push a button on this box to activate the light, but the pole was very inconveniently located way off the sidewalk in the grass. With my cane, it was pretty easy to locate the pole, push the button and get lined up with the curb again. But Gilbert was not trained to go to the crossing lights, and when the dog trainer tried to teach him, he would get confused, and not line me up very well once I had pushed the button. So the dog trainer thought it would be better if I didn’t use the light, and just listened to traffic. But for a while after this decision had been made, Gilbert still thought he was supposed to find the crossing light for me. We did manage to untrain him of this, but for a while, it was frustrating.
When we got to the campus center, another unexpected challenge presented itself. I had thought about staircase dangers, but it had never occurred to me how awkward it is to hold open a door, and get yourself and a guide dog through it at the same time. For the first couple days, I am sure I didn’t look too dignified or graceful to any passersby that may have saw me walk to the door. To start with, it took Gilbert and me a few days to get used to each other, and to get Gilbert to back up after he showed me the door. I felt so bad for Gilbert, who got bumped in the head quite a bit in the beginning when I couldn’t get him to back up far enough. The dog trainer told me that backing away from the oncoming door was his problem, but still I felt a little guilty. Then I remember tripping over Gilbert’s paws the first few days, and not wanting to step on his paws, I would try to get him to move forward to give me more room, and he would start walking while I was still holding on to the doorcausing me to feel like I was going to fall on several occasions. The operation was made a little bit easier when a few days later-I don’t remember which day it was now-the dog trainer realized that I was trying to hold the door for the observers behind me. That was when he told me that when I have a guide dog, I shouldn’t worry about manners, just worry about myself. I felt a little guilty about letting the door close in the faces of the people behind me, but it did make life easier, and pretty soon, we could calmly and confidently walk through doors. I will admit that when I am going through a doorway that is extremely narrow, as are some of the doorways, especially on the older buildings at my college I will let go of the harness and walk him through the door with his leash. This method makes it a lot easier to get Gilbert to slow down, or get him to go through the door first instead of both of us trying to get through together. I am sure this is not the proper way to do things, but a practice I will continue because it works well for us. But for newer buildings, I have no problem getting through the door with the harness, although I love it when someone is kind enough to hold the door open!
Anyway, after we got through the door, I think our first stop was an office just inside the door where the dog trainer introduced himself, and we asked if we could get in to my dorm because we wanted to practice getting to it. This lady was wonderful, and sure enough, loved my guide dog. She told us that the dorms were locked, and I couldn’t get in until I moved in and got my identification card. But I think she was the one who arranged for a janitor to open the dorm later that afternoon so I could show Gilbert to my room. One funny thing that resulted in visiting this office was that after we went to the dorm, and wanted to come back through the campus center to go outside, Gilbert took me back to this office instead, and we had to train him not to always go to this office, just like we had to train him not to go to the crossing light. I was finding out that Gilbert is a fast learner (smile).
Anyway, after leaving this office, it was time to walk with Gilbert to my dorm for the first time. The dog trainer instructed me to tell Gilbert “find the stairs”, and I think he did a good job finding them that day, but I remember that I didn’t fully trust him at that time. Those first few days, I had an intense fear of falling, to the point that my vision teacher said later they were tempted to push me so I would fall, and see that it is not that bad. It turned out that they never had to do that because a few days later, I would fall on my own, but that’s for another entry. Anyway, since I didn’t fully trust Gilbert, I remember that on that day, and actually for several days, I would stick out my right hand and search for the rail when the dog trainer said it is important to find the first step by sticking out your left foot first, and then look for the rail. Anyway, after I found the stairs that day, going down them was the next challenge. Gilbert did a wonderful job. The dog trainer was right when he said on the first day how cautious Gilbert was. When I found the rail and told him forward we both went down the first step, but I had to give him some encouragement to continue. One a couple of stairs, when he did not want to continue, or he hugged so close to me that I was stepping on his paw, I would try to walk past him, or he would walk down a couple steps past me. I never felt like I was going to fall down the stairs because he didn’t go far, and he walked slow, but the dog trainer had to remind me numerous times that day, and for several days after that I need to stay with him. It is funny now, looking back to think how slow and awkward our first walk down stairs was, and although I never said it, in my mind I remember thinking, “Once I find the stairs, I am perfectly capable of going down stairs by myself. I never put my cane on the step in front of me before walking down, So why do we have to make this complicated and wait for Gilbert before going down the next step?” Now of course, I realize the benefit of keeping Gilbert with me because it is easier to tell when the stairs end, and we can go up and down stairs expertly, without any problems at all. But during those first few days of training, this was a lot to adjust to.
After reaching the bottom of the stairs, we walked through another door, and then it was time to teach Gilbert how to navigate through the tunnel. The dog trainer had told me that once Gilbert walks a route once or twice, and knows your routine, he will be able to sense where I want to go, so I won’t have to direct him. Of course, I would still have to know where I am and where I want to go, but the fact that Gilbert would be able to catch on to my routes was exciting, and it would prove to be wonderful when it came to walking through the tunnel.
This tunnel connects the campus center, which includes the dining room, to my dorms, and my parents and I were excited that I would be able to get from the dorm to breakfast without having to go outside, which would be especially convenient in the winter. The downside of this tunnel though was that there were a lot of twists and turns, absolutely a pain to try and figure out with my cane, and when I thought about it, I hadn’t walked through this tunnel since my disastrous solo route assignment that I wrote about on May 30. But to my relief, the dog trainer directed Gilbert and me through the tunnel the first time, so I did not have to show him how terrible I was at getting through the tunnel. And the dog trainer was right about how fast Gilbert learned this route. The first few days after the first walk, the dog trainer told me to give Gilbert some encouragement, and say “hop up”, but after a while, Gilbert and I could breeze through the tunnel without me having to say a word!
After we got through the tunnel, we had to go up another flight of stairs, and then we would be standing at the door to my dorm. By the time we got to this point, I was exhausted, and I remember thinking “what a long walk!” In reality, the walk was only long because Gilbert and I were not used to each other yet, and I think the dog trainer had us rework things a couple of times. By the end of dog training, I could get from my dorm to the dining room in five minutes, and from my dorm to the building where my classes were held in less than ten minutes. It is really amazing what a difference practice and experience can make! When we got to the stairs, leading up to the dorm, another phobia surfaced, but this time, it was Gilbert who was fearful. The stairs that lead up to the dorm are the kind that are open in back, and this made Gilbert uneasy. Therefore, he did everything not to have to come near those stairs. I think we had to practice these stairs for a week with him before he got over his fear of them, and the next week, we had to go as far as putting treats by the stairs to bribe him to go up them. But just as I was able to overcome my curb fears, Gilbert overcame his fears too. I think he was just as determined to work out for me as I was.
What a sweet victory it was to reach the dorm that first time. The journey was not exactly smooth that first day, but this did not change the fact that “we had done it!” We still had two and a half weeks left to practice this route, and as discouraged as I felt that day, I knew that two and a half weeks is a long time, and if I stuck it out to the end, the wonderful sense of independence, not to mention Gilbert’s companionship would make all the difficult times worth it.
After walking back to the campus center, the trainer announced he was ready for lunch. My vision teacher and the dog trainer found a Mexican restaurant. Actually, we ate Mexican for lunch every day during training because the dog trainer loved it and said that since he lived in a rural area, he couldn’t get good Mexican food at home, but after a morning of training, I was so hungry I didn’t care what we ate, and I love Mexican food too. I wasn’t sure what it would be like to bring Gilbert to a restaurant for the first time, but it was pretty easy getting Gilbert under the table. My legs got a little cramped again because he would shift a little under the table and I would have to bring in my legs again, but other than that, it was just a normal lunch outing with no behavior problems like I was used to expecting at home with Indy and Mojo. You would never be allowed to bring them to a restaurant (smile). After lunch, we went back to the college, and with a full stomach and some much needed rest, we got back to my dorm a little quicker I think, than the first time! This was when we got to go in to my dorm room, and the dog trainer commented that he had shared a dorm in college, and it still wasn’t as big as this room. We talked a little about where we could put Gilbert’s crate, and I let Gilbert sniff around what would soon be our room. The room also still had two pieces of all of the furniture because the rooms were usually occupied by two people, so the dog trainer recommended that I try to get the extra furniture removed so I would have more room. This was done the day after Labor Day, and made a world of difference! Then, after showing me a good relieving area just outside the back door, our first day of training at my college was over. The dog trainer drove me home, and though I was more exhausted, and a little more discouraged than I had been the first three days, I had no doubt that all we needed was practice, and like I said before, by the end of training, we were breezing through our routes as if we had always been together, and one year later, I cannot imagine what my life would be like if I had to walk without him by my side.

The third day of dog training began smoothly again. I successfully relieved and fed Gilbert. I didn’t sleep quite as soundly as I did Monday night because I found out that Gilbert snores, loud! When I told the dog trainer about this, he laughed, and the president who was still observing training said that one of the other dogs was in the motel room with her and was snoring so loud she couldn’t sleep. I have heard people say how in their marriage, they cannot sleep because their partner snores so loud. Well, I guess snoring is another aspect that marriage and guide dog partnerships have in common, but definitely something I was willing to put up with for my Buddy that I came to love more and more each day. Another funny thing I remember about this day last year was that after I fed him and went to take a shower, I close the bathroom door only to discover that Gilbert and I are not the only ones in the room. A giant buzzing fly also decided to join us. All of you friends know about my fear of buzzing things, so I threw off my pajamas and grabbed my towel faster than I usually did, dashed in to the shower, slammed the door of the shower stall and threw my head under the water to drown out the buzzing, which worked well. But as I was showering, I could hear Gilbert jumping and snapping his jaws, and when I got out of the shower, I did not hear the fly buzzing anymore. Gilbert must have killed it! I don’t know if he could sense how much that fly freaked me out, or if, more likely, he was just following his primal hunting instinct. But whatever the reason, I was so impressed with him. He was a wonderful guide dog, and a skilled hunter.
Anyway, shortly after breakfast, the dog trainer came, and we practiced obedience again, and I think we also practiced putting the harness on. I knew how to put on the harness, but was pretty slow, and like I said before, I sometimes got the steps mixed up. Then, the dog trainer and president wanted to give me another lesson on grooming Gilbert because Monday’s lesson had been kind of brief, and since it was my first day with Gilbert, there were a lot of other things on my mind. The night before, the dog trainer and president also found a better currycomb than the one my mom and I bought. Instead of having soft bristles, this comb had pointy, sharp bristles. They showed me how to use this comb, but when they told me to move it back and forth, and to really press hard, I remember being hesitant. I had hardly ever used a brush that sharp on Indy or Mojo when I brused them, and if I did, I was gentle. But when they insisted that I needed to do it hard to effectively loosen hair, and when the president demonstrated, and Gilbert did not yelp, I realized that I could not hurt him and got a lot more confident. We also practiced with the rake, where I discovered that holding the brush at a 45 degree angle is not as easy as it would seem, and I think the trainer had to correct me a couple of times. I never really had official training on how to brush a dog. Now I feel bad that I might have stabbed Mojo with the rake when I brushed him occasionally, but if I hurt him, he never yelped. Then we practiced brushing Gilbert’s teeth. The president said that with her dogs, she uses a rag wrapped around her finger instead of a dog toothbrush, which makes sense because when I tried to use a toothbrush my mom got I could not feel where I was. But I had never stuck my fingers in an animal’s mouth because it always made me nervous. So it was all I could do to not freak out as I rubbed down his teeth, and I am sure I did it fast, and not very thoroughly. I am getting a little more confident about sticking my fingers in his mouth now, especially since he likes to see what he can get past his blind owner and chew on things that I can tell by the sound they make in his mouth that they are not dog toys (smile). I could either let him choke or get sick, or swallow my nervousness, take a deep breath, and go in to investigate. I still get a little nervous, but I would say I am a lot more comfortable than I was a year ago. After this, I think the dog trainer and president left for lunch, but when they came back, Gilbert and I would take another walk, and this time, the walk would feature a street crossing.
We got in the car again, a process that I think went pretty smoothly, and found another sidewalk in town with a street to cross. The walk started out beautifully, just like the day before, and the dog trainer was standing right behind me, and would tell me when it was safe to cross, so I don’t think I felt that nervous. But for some reason, when we got to the curb, and the trainer said it was safe to cross, I couldn’t bring myself to step off the curb. For some reason, holding on to Gilbert rather than a person or my cane to step off the curb, made me feel like I would fall, and it scared me that after stepping off the curb, he was trained to just keep walking, not stop. I would surely lose my footing having to step off a curb so fast, wouldn’t I? If I fell, would he drag me across the street on my knees? It took me a long time to muster the courage to step off that first curb, and when I did, I did it so gingerly, and nervously it is pathetic to think about now. The dog trainer sensed my fear too, unfortunately, and I think he ordered me to step back up on to the curb. Then he took Gilbert away, and gave him to one of the observers. I think my vision teacher, the president of the school, and my mom observed my training that day. Then, he told me to take his arm, and we spent the next ten minutes just stepping off curbs. I know this probably seems silly, but just practicing stepping off curbs with a human made all the difference in the world when I got Gilbert back, and I never had a problem stepping off curbs after that. Later, I would find out that this fear of stepping off the curb was making the dog trainer doubtful about whether a guide dog would really work out for me, but thankfully, the dog trainer was not giving up on me. But I think the dog trainer sensed that despite my silly fears and slow learning style, I was determined to overcome these challenges, which I was. Unlike other things I had to learn through my years of school like how to decipher geometric figures-I couldn’t care less about math, and I am sure this lack of determination was evident to my teachers-I truly cared about the success of Gilbert and me as a team. If I don’t master a math concept, it is disappointing to my teachers, and hurts my grades short term. But in the grand scheme of things, geometry has nothing to do with my goal in life; to be a Journalist and write for a newspaper. But if Gilbert didn’t work out, I would lose a golden opportunity to experience the confidence and independence that I have witnessed in other blind people with guide dogs, and the result may be that I don’t lead the independent and fulfilling life that I had such high hopes for.
It took me a lot longer to master a task that most people, I’m sure can do without a problem. But what mattered in the end was that I did master this challenge, and Gilbert and I crossed the street beautifully, with him keeping me from veering in to traffic, just like my vision teacher had hoped. If I could overcome this challenge, I could persevere through new and bigger challenges in the days to come.

Our first night together went beautifully. We both slept well, and he never once cried in the night, although when the trainer came to the door, Gilbert who had been laying quietly at my feet ran to the door wagging his tail joyfully. But I didn’t mind. I knew it wouldn’t be long before Gilbert came to love me just as much as he loved the trainer.
Before the trainer came, I had taken him out of his crate, and got to experience his adorable morning ritual of emerging from the crate waging his tail, and then yawning and stretching. Still to this day, seeing him wake up in the morning is one of my favorite parts of the day. Then I let him out, and to my relief, he did not seem to have to poop again, though I am sure I did not give him much time since I wasn’t sure how well I would be able to pick it up for the first time by myself. Gilbert behaved perfectly as I got dressed, ate my breakfast and fed him. The dog trainer arrived at about 9:00, and my vision teacher came shortly after that to observe some of our training since she was so excited about this new program, and because she wanted to learn more about how guide dogs are trained.
After Gilbert’s joyful hello, the trainer asked me how the night went, and how relieving went. When I told him Gilbert had not pooped yet, he told me to give him another chance. Sure enough, he did have to poop, but with the dog trainer walking me through things the first time, I discovered that finding it and bagging it wasn’t hard at all. I think Gilbert was a little startled at first when I had to touch his back while he was going, and the first couple of days, he would try to move away from me, but we soon got used to each other, and picking up the poop was second nature.
Then we did a little bit of reviewing how to put on the training collar-it is also known as the choke chain, but when the dog trainer had first shown it to me the day before, he said it is only a choke chain if it is not put on the right way. Anyway, we reviewed how to put it on, and practiced giving corrections with it: the collar was actually on the dog trainer’s hand which he used to simulate a dog. And then it was time for the real thing, doing obedience with Gilbert. The routine for obedience was to do three sits, three downs, a sit and stay in which I used a long leash and walked to the end of it, a recall, and heal. He did very well this first day, considering that he had not even been with me for 24 hours yet. I think the only critique I received was when Gilbert would obey the down command, but did not sit, I would say the command twice before I gave him a correction, when I should give him a correction the first time. After that, I think we did a Juno walk, where the dog trainer holds the harness to simulate walking with a dog. For this walk, the dog trainer wanted to put Gilbert in a crate in his truck so that I would not be distracted by him, but I wanted Gilbert to really bond with me, and I was afraid that putting him back in the dog trainer’s truck would confuse him. I wanted to establish with Gilbert that he was my dog now, so I asked the trainer if I could put him in his crate in my house instead. He was absolutely fine with this, but when we came back from the walk, I heard barking. I thought it was a neighbor dog at first, because I was still under the impression that guide dogs were perfect and would never bark. But the dog trainer said that was Gilbert’s bark. The trainer and the president of the program were concerned about this barking, and were talking about maybe giving me a bark collar for him, but I knew he was just scared of being alone in an unfamiliar environment. In the coming days, I would put him in his crate for short periods while I took a shower, and he had no problems. Now, he only barks if he is put in the crate too long and he can hear that people are home, but it is extremely rare that we do that, so it is not a big issue. Anyway, as soon as the Juno walk was over, I let him out of the crate, and he was happy once he was able to join everyone again.
And then, it was time to learn how to put on Gilbert’s harness. I had seen harnesses on other guide dogs before, but I had never really paid attention to how the harness was buckled or anything like that. The dog trainer first just gave me the harness to feel it from top to bottom and then I just practiced sliding the buckle through the martingale and hooking it on the metal ring, which was pretty easy. But all of the practice in the world with buckling the harness without the dog cannot even come close to preparing the first time guide dog user to put the harness on a real dog. What I will always remember about this day was how long it took me to get his harness on for the first time. The first time I put the harness on, the dog trainer had Gilbert standing by the porch swing, and when I was sitting on the swing, Gilbert’s head was facing my left. I managed to get the harness over his head. He probably didn’t like the fact that the harness was on top of his nose for a few seconds while I figured out how to get it over the nose, but he was so wonderfully still and patient that day, and didn’t seem to mind what a novice I was. Then that day, and for a few days later, I would get mixed up about how the harness was fastened. Was it the martingale that went between his legs, and the buckle that went behind the legs, or was it the other way around? But what I will remember as being the most difficult part of getting the harness on for the first time was that with Gilbert’s head facing left, I would have to stretch across him to buckle it, and the angle made it so hard for me to reach the buckle that I absolutely could not buckle it. I heard my vision teacher whispering something about my lack of arm strength, and later, I found out that the dog trainer was concerned about whether I could handle a guide dog if it was so difficult to get the harness on. But just when I was about to get frustrated, it dawned on me that if I walked around to Gilbert’s right side, I would be able to reach the buckle much more easily, and sure enough, once I did this, it wasn’t long before I heard the satisfying click of the buckle! My mom, the vision teacher, the dog trainer and president breathed a sigh of relief and said “Good job!” And even though this was such a small feat, I think I was beaming with pride too. I had successfully mastered my first official challenge that came my way, a sweet victory that gave me a wonderful boost of confidence to face the many other challenges that would come my way over the course of dog training! And by the way, even now, I still stand on Gilbert’s right side when I put the harness on.
After that, the dog trainer and president left to go out for lunch, and my vision teacher stayed with us for lunch. I think my mom and vision teacher had sandwiches, but I remember thinking that a can of ravioli would hit the spot, which it did. And then after lunch, the real dog training began. One year ago today was the day I took my first official walk with Gilbert in harness.
I live on a country road with no sidewalks, and the dog trainer wanted our first walk to be on a long sidewalk. So this was also the day I would learn how to get Gilbert in to the car. The dog trainer told me to walk right up to the car, open the door, and then tell Gilbert to sit and stay. Then I would get in to the car, still holding the leash, and spread my feet as far apart as possible to make room for Gilbert to jump. Once he was in, it was important to make sure that his tail was all the way in, and then close the door. The first time getting him in to the car went smoothly. I think that for the first few days, the trainer had to help me get his tail all the way in because I didn’t want to hurt him, but eventually, I got used to doing this too. One unexpected disadvantage to having a guide dog laying at your feet in the car though, was that I quickly discovered that Gilbert didn’t leave much room for my feet, so I would have to ride with my legs bent, which caused mild cramping after a while. Fortunately, I knew that I would mostly be traveling with my family, and we have a minivan where Gilbert can just lay between the seats. When I do ride with other people, a lack of leg room is something I can live with.
Anyway, we drove in to town, and my mom directed the dog trainer to a nice sidewalk she knew of that she thought would be great for our first walk. All in all, our first walk went beautifully. At first, it was a little scary to walk with a dog instead of a cane, but since our first unofficial walk at Jog for Guide Dogs back in May, I had done several Juno walks with my dad, so I was not as scared as I was before. The only thing that went wrong was that since my feet turn outward when I walk, I stepped on Gilbert’s paw once, which caused him to jump and speed up to avoid my feet, and I almost fell. After that incident, the dog trainer decided that I would do better with an offset handle since it would lengthen the distance slightly between Gilbert and my feet when we walked. This turned out to be a great idea and I have rarely stepped on him since.
Other than that, the dog trainer and my vision teacher were thrilled about how well the first walk went. In fact, I think the dog trainer said that I was relaxed and confident and looked like I had been walking with a guide dog a lot longer than this first walk. I knew that there were still 13 days of training to go, and many more challenges as we navigated my college campus. But after such a successful first walk, I knew that Gilbert and I could overcome them, and make a wonderful team for many years.
That afternoon after coming home and having an icecream bar to cool off, it occurred to me that so much had changed since I had read “Buddy, the Story of the First Seeing Eye Dog” so many years before. I was no longer just a little girl who longed for a guide dog someday. I was a young woman now and it wouldn’t be long before I would follow in the footsteps of people like Morris Frank, and become a successful, independent blind person, with the love and support of my own Buddy. I desperately wanted to read that book again, to take me back to where my adoration of guide dogs first began, and to my enormous excitement, I found it on bookshare. I don’t remember what else I did that day besides just enjoying Gilbert’s companionship, and now that I had a glimpse of the wonderful guide dog he was, my love for him was even stronger than before.

Well, one year ago today was the big day, and reflecting back on this day when I began training with Gilbert, I think I will always remember this day, and the weekend leading up to it as a period full of mixed emotions. Don’t get me wrong. I would say 90 percent of my emotions were feelings of excitement. I couldn’t wait to have the dignity and confidence that so many blind people say they gain working with a guide dog, not to mention the fact that Gilbert was adorable, and would be able to help me make friends in the unknown world of college. There was also a little apprehention. What if, after spending more time with me, the dog trainer didn’t think Gilbert was right for me after all? But I think the most intense emotion I had on this day, besides excitement, was the realization that the moment Gilbert walked through the door of my house, an era would end. Of course, every new chapter of life, while it may mean more responsibilities, the rewarding opportunities are well worth it, and I knew this was true when I saw the excitement of my older siblings when they got their driver’s license, or their first apartment. But I couldn’t ignore the subtle feeling of loss when I realized that I might never be a carefree girl with no responsibilities again. I will never forget the morning of August 4, 2008, before the dog trainer came and I was explaining this feeling to my mom, and what a thought provoking analogy she used to describe how I was feeling. She said that getting Gilbert could be compared to a wedding, since it will be my job to love, honor and cherish him. My sister had just gotten married a month earlier, and when I stopped to think about it, marriage really is very similar to getting the first guide dog. While my sister was excited about spending the rest of her life with the person she married, I wonder if she too realized that life will never be just about her again. Both of us, in different ways of course, have to devote our lives to our partners, learn to work as a team, and part with an old era.
Of course, I have always had school responsibilities, but keeping your grades up is trivial compared to the realization that soon, the daily care, and well-being of another animal will depend on you. Was I ready to take on this important responsibility? But like I said before, additional responsibilities are so rewarding when you see how much independence and confidence it brings to other people, and if I chose to remain in the carefree era of childhood by not getting a guide dog, I knew I would miss out on so many opportunities this world has to offer. By the time the doorbell rang to announce the arrival of the dog trainer, I resolved to say goodbye to the limited world of childhood, and never look back.
The first half of the day was filled with eager anticipation because when the dog trainer first arrived, he said that he wanted to talk about dog behavior, and how dogs are trained before he brought Gilbert in because he knew once Gilbert came in to the house, I would be distracted (smile). So, my mom and Dad, the dog trainer, and the president of the school gathered around the table for coffee and muffins that my mom had made. The dog trainer talked about dog behavior; how dogs are pack animals, and if you don’t show the dog that you are the leader of the pack, the dog will lead you. He told my parents what guide dogs are trained to do, and also explained some of the legal stuff, like the fact that the school legally owns the dogs until they retire, something I don’t have a problem with because I know that he is my dog, and that the issue of legal ownership is only a technicality, and a precaution that is in place only so that the school could take back dogs who are mistreated. Since I loved Gilbert the instant I met him, I knew that this was not something that I had to worry about.
Anyway, after this meeting, the dog trainer brought in the big crate, which my mom and dad assembled in the bedroom. The dog trainer said he would come back around 1:30, at which time Gilbert would officially be my dog! Until that day, I was slightly disappointed that I was not going to get the experience that people that attend schools like the Seeing Eye talk about with such excitement, getting called down to a lounge one by one to meet your dog for the first time. But that day, I discovered that waiting for the dog, even if you already know who the dog is, is equally exciting.
It seemed as though 1:30 would never arrive, but at long last, it did, and when my mom and dad, who had only seen Gilbert in pictures, admired how beautiful Gilbert was, I knew the waiting, both that day, and through the years since Indy died, was well worth it, and that my family was just as excited as I was.
I think Gilbert was quiet at first, and naturally, although he knew me a little bit from our brief meetings at fundraisers, he was more attached to the dog trainer. While he would listen to me during training, I think it took several weeks before I felt like he was really bonding with me. But just because he wasn’t attached to me, I had no doubt, even that day, that he knew he would spend the rest of his life with me, and was excited about it. How did I know this? Shortly after Gilbert came in, I decided to sit on the kitchen floor and pet him while my parents and the dog trainer talked, to start the bonding process. Shortly after I sat on the floor, he came up and smothered my face with dog kisses. The dog trainer looked over when he saw me pinned to the floor, laying on my back giggling and said I could tell him no if I wanted. But it was too adorable to reprimand him. What is even more unforgettable about this event though, was that it never happened again. Every time I have sat on the floor since then, he will lay next to me, or flip over on his back for a belly rub, or if he licks me, it is a quick lick on the cheek, or he will lick my fingers if I have food on them. But he has never licked my face that excitedly since. I still look back and wonder sometimes if he was just excited about being in a new place, and would have licked the face of anyone who let him, or if he could sense that I was his partner for life, and this was his way of saying, “I don’t really know you, but I am sure life with you will be wonderful!” Whatever he was thinking, that will always be a precious moment that I will never forget.
After this brief bonding time, the dog trainer showed me briefly how to groom him, how to use the brush and clean his ears. They encouraged me to spend the evening just exploring Gilbert: open his mouth to feel his teeth, pick up his paws, feel his belly, and just get used to details so I would notice changes or abnormalities throughout his life that could signify a problem. They worked out a good spot to relieve him, and showed me where it was. And then they left us to spend the evening bonding. I was supposed to keep him on leash and take him all through the house and let him sniff everything to get used to his new surroundings. So as soon as the dog trainer left, that is what I did. I took him to every room of the house where he sniffed meticulously. When I got to my room, he must have sensed that it was his room too because the first thing he did was jump on my bed! I didn’t want to use tough love so soon but I didn’t want to encourage bad manners so soon either, so I made him get off (smile). It turned out that the next day, I found out I was supposed to have him on short leash. I was wondering how he was able to jump on my bed while I held the leash, and why it kept getting tangled up in his legs every few steps, but somehow, in the excitement, I hadn’t realized that he was not on a short leash. Oops! Anyway, all night, he went everywhere with me, and I pet him and doted on him like a newborn baby. I called one of my blind friends to share the exciting news, and she was so happy for me. He was kind of quiet all evening, but we quickly discovered he wasn’t too depressed to eat (smile). As soon as we opened the storage container of dog food, he raced up and stuck his head in as if he wanted to just help himself to his food right from the bin! We had to reprimand him, but he never did that again either. But still to this day, when you put his food down, he dives in, and does not come up for air until the bowl is clean (laugh). All evening, Gilbert was by my side, and even while I watched television, I was petting him. I know this might sound silly to some, but I will never forget what a beautiful experience it is to start bonding with your first guide dog.
Our first day together ended peacefully. The thing I was most nervous about, taking him out to relieve by myself went perfectly, and to my relief, he came back to the concrete instantly after peeing, so I knew he didn’t have to poop. I was so scared that I wouldn’t be able to tell when he was going, or find it, in which case, the trainer might not trust that I was capable of caring for a guide dog, and to my relief, I could hear him pee. I know this is a disgusting topic to write about, but when I watched two multese dogs for my teacher, I could not tell when they had peed, and I was scared to death by the thought that I might not be able to hear my guide dog pee. But of course, I was worrying too much again (smile).
Then I gave Gilbert a treat, and put him in his crate for his first night with me. To my relief, he slept through the night without a problem. And as we both drifted off in to a peaceful sleep together, I decided that no matter how difficult the training was, no matter what challenges college threw my way, I never wanted to return to the childhood era again. I would brave the unfamiliar roads of college with Gilbert by my side. And Gilbert, I am renewing this vow on this one year anniversary too. I look forward to beginning another school year, and take on new challenges challenges that are always made easier with your cautious guiding, your sweet happy outlook on life that melts everyone’s heart, and your forgiveness when we have a bad day. I hope we have many more happy anniversaries to come.

The trip continued to have its difficult moments. On July 10, the day after the infamous “bus tour”, we had another day full of walking, and I think the Vatican could make the record books for the most flights of stairs! And sure enough, a pickpocket tried to reach in to my mom’s purse. Actually, we didn’t carry around a lot of money that day. That purse primarily contained my medicine, but luckily, the other choir mom that was helping me balance on the cobblestones saw the person, and chased them off. After a long day of walking, with only a five minute break for a quick lunch, it was time to perform at Saint Peter’s Basilica. As exciting as the prospect of such an honor was, we first had to change in to our formal choir uniforms, but we didn’t get a nice bathroom or dressing room to change in. We changed on our cramped coach bus, on a hot, and sticky day with no air conditioning on! As you can imagine, this was very stressful. I couldn’t get anything on me because there was no room to move, and everything stuck to me, not to mention that we were running a little late, and the choir directors were clapping their hands and calling “Hurry up!” My mom and I almost had a meltdown with these stressful conditions, and I was getting a headache. The final straw was when we dropped one of my buttons: the uniform uses these fancy tuxedo buttons that you pin over the top of the regular sewn on buttons. We were beginning to wonder if this whole trip had been a foolish idea. Fortunately, we did find the button, and I took my stress hormone, which almost instantly took away my headache, and the mass, and dinner afterward turned the stressful day in to a beautiful memory.
Every day was filled with walking, and I never once went out after dinner because I was so tired, and feared that if I didn’t get enough sleep, I would not survive the trip. In fact, one thing that was sort of funny was that whenever we got off the bus, the tour guides would say we just had a ten minute walk to whatever we were touring that day. But it always turned out to be at least an hour’s walk. It became a standing joke that whenever the tour guide said it was just a ten minute walk, someone would say “is that an Italian ten minutes, or an American ten minutes?” The silver lining of all of this walking though was that I could eat everything, with absolutely no guilt (smile).
No matter how stressful each day was, they all created beautiful memories. The Italian people, and the other tourists loved us. At the mass in Saint Peter’s Basilica, I heard cameras snapping pictures, and I thought that all of these cameras were choir parents that came along, but my mom told me later that many of those cameras were just tourists; complete strangers who loved what we were doing. And that afternoon when we were touring the Vatican, the choir mom that helped me balance also happened to find a tour guide who originally came from Texas, and who said that it had always been a dream of hers to describe to a blind person the beauty of the Vatican, and she did a wonderful job! She let me touch the marble statues and some of the mosaics, so that I too could fully appreciate the grandeur, and beautiful historic artwork of the Vatican.
We sang mass at Santa Maria Maggiore, and at two other churches outside the Vatican. While the formal events were beautiful and wonderful memories, I especially enjoyed it when we got impromptu chances to sing. We had learned an Italian song called Santa Lucia, and arranged it so we could sing it a cappella (without any instruments), and we often sang for whatever restaurant we ate dinner at, and even performed it on the Spanish steps. The Italians absolutely loved this, and in Castle Gandalfo, the summer residence of the pope, we sang it at a local diner we went to for lunch, and one lady, who must have been touched by the fact that I was blind and having so much fun singing, gave me her rosary. I don’t generally like special attention, but what a sweet special gesture that was. That is my favorite rosary to use when I say the rosary with my grandma because it brings back so many happy memories.
The most stressful place to walk by far was Pompae. Pompae was an ancient city that was barried when a volcano erupted, but which has been mostly excavated and restored for tourists. The roads were designed for chariots, and these tracks made the ground very bumpy. I think the choir director even fell, but I am proud to say that though I stumbled and slipped a few times, I never once fell on the trip! But after that stressful hike, we went to Surento, and even though I couldn’t see, I could sense the beauty and tranquility of this place. It seemed to be at least ten degrees cooler there too, making it a wonderful place to relax after a stressful beginning to the trip. This is also where I got my favorite souvenir, a handcrafted music box. The next day, we took a minibus down a mountain to the Meditereanian sea where we took a boat to the Aisle of Capri a place which would be the perfect honeymoon destination. For the minibus ride, it was probably a good thing that I couldn’t see, because while everyone else was scared to death, I was having a blast! The minibus was loaded to fullest capacity, with people standing, and seats in the middle of the aisles, and the driver was just flying down this narrow mountain road, to the point my mom feared we would fall off the cliff! For me though, it was a fun thrill ride, and I was laughing while the parents were sucking in their breath. Ignorance really is bliss sometimes (smile). But everyone enjoyed the boat ride. My mom and I sat on the top deck and let the breeze hit our faces. In Capri, we got a whole day to shop, and I got a camio a little bottle of perfume, and some lemon chocolate. I think my mom also got some whine to take home.
After going back to Rome to visit some attractions we missed like the Systine chapel and the Trevy fountain, we went to Tiboli, another tranquil place that I remember most for the waterfalls. I think we learned that these waterfalls were natural, created from water coming down from the mountains. Listening to them was so peaceful, and the water was so clean we actually drank from them. And that night, instead of a quiet dinner like we usually had, we were entertained by a local band, and loved their music so much we bought a CD.
But as much as I enjoyed the attractions and the singing opportunities, I also enjoyed just immersing myself in a different culture. It is so cool for example to just walk down the street and hear lots of people speaking different languages. My mom also observed that when the Italian people talk, they don’t just say the words, but they talk with their hands too, and are much more expressive than Americans are when they talk. I was also surprised about how much differently people in Europe live compared with the United States. While Americans drive big cars, most of the cars we saw in Italy were smart cars, cars with only two seats, and very fuel efficient since gas in Italy is $5 a gallon, according to our tour guides! While Americans have big houses that stick out, Italians live in tiny houses, or apartments with gardens on the roof. It was a very eye opening experience and I know how true it is when people say that Americans are isolated from the rest of the world.
On July 17, when we flew home, I was definitely exhausted and ready to come home, but the exhaustion paled in comparison to the wonderful memories made. The flight was uneventful, and even though we didn’t actually go home-my dad picked us up in Chicago and we went straight to Indiana for a family reunion, it felt wonderful to be back in America again, where I could sleep, and play cards with my cousins, the perfect end to a memorable trip.
When I lay in bed July 23, the day after we came home, I was a little overwhelmed that the trip that had been on my mind for over nine months was over. What do you do next after a trip like that? Would choir opportunities closer to home ever feel exciting again? My mind was quickly occupied with a new adventure in life, the start of high school, and though I have never traveled abroad again,other opportunities came along that were exciting in their own way, like the chance to compete in a choral festival with my high school choir, and a concert in Carnigee Hall! And of course, now that Gilbert is gradually giving me confidence and a sense of independence, I am sure there will be more exciting opportunities in the future. But nothing can compare with the opportunity to travel to a new country and become aware of other cultures. Even if such an opportunity is not feasible in the future, I am so glad that I took this opportunity to experience another culture, and make wonderful memories that will last a lifetime.

Though my mom and I were already exhausted from all of the preparing I mentioned in my last entry, plus a few preparations I forgot to mention like learning some basic Italian words, and attending extra choir rehearsals to learn the songs we were going to sing, we couldn’t help but be excited. After so much preparing and anticipation, the big day had arrived. We were going to Italy! Even my mom, who seemed nervous about going to a foreign country was getting excited by the prospect of getting to see the famous Systine Chapel, and experience the ancient history of Rome. I am not someone who finds sight seeing very interesting, but I was more than willing to put up with it so I could tell my children and grandchildren that I sang for mass at Saint Peter’s Basilica! I don’t remember whether or not I slept the night before, but knowing how anxious and excited I get, I probably did not sleep much. My dad, who was staying home to manage the house, made a big breakfast for Mom and me, and then helped with the last minute packing, and making sure everything was in the car. Then, my grandma and Dad drove us to the Park and ride where we would board a bus with the rest of the choir group to the airport. The trip had unofficially begun.
The bus ride was fun, and full of excitement and anticipation. And to get us in to the Italian spirit, the choir director put on Roman Holiday for our movie. Before long, we were at the airport. I had never been through airport security before, and I had heard from other people stories about what a hassel it was. But except for having to take off my shoes, it wasn’t too bad, and everything went smoothly. And then we waited. I think we waited an hour, maybe two, and my mom suggested I get out a book to read. But I was so anxious and excited that I couldn’t concentrate on a book. And since we were at the airport, my anxiety about flying for the first time was setting in. I remembered back to a few weeks earlier when my brother, who had been on an airplane for a school volleyball tournament, told me that taking off is like riding a roller coaster. I am not wild about roller coasters. What if I screamed and made a fool of myself? I really wished that I could have taken a shorter flight with my family to somewhere in the United States so I would know a little bit what to expect, but we didn’t have time, so it was straight for the big leagues, an international flight. The good news though was that we were flying Luftonza (not sure if that is the right spelling), a German airline that one of my friends who is a more seasoned traveler said ranked number 1. But still, I couldn’t help thinking about all of those plane crashes you hear about in the news, and what a scary way to die that would be. My anxiety intensified when we boarded the plane, where they announced where the exits were, and how to use the oxygen masks. I have flown a couple other times since Italy, and now I know that this announcement is just routine flight procedure, but the first flight, those announcements seemed so ominous and scary. But we were already on the plane gliding down the runway. There was no turning back now.
When the plane first took off, I squeezed my mom’s arm so tight that she said it was turning purple, something we still laugh about now. But pretty soon, the plane had reached cruising altitude, and you could barely feel that you were moving. Numerous people told me it would feel that way, but I thought they were just trying to ease my fears. After all, how could you possibly be flying through the sky at 600 miles an hour and not feel it? But they were right. You really cannot feel it. Pretty soon, I was relaxed, enjoying the gentle rocking of the airplane, and after about an hour or so, we got food. I had heard that airline food is terrible, and it was a little bland. But bland is probably what you want when you are on an airplane. I think we got some kind of chicken and rice, and coffee cake. I never slept because I was excited about the trip, but I enjoyed just relaxing, knowing that all of the preparations were done, and we were on our way at last. Toward the end of the flight, we got another snack. I don’t remember what it was, but I remember it was pretty good. I think it was technically breakfast since we had flown through the night. And then we got a warm wet washcloth with some kind of soap that smelled wonderful to wash our face. Later when I would take some flights within the United States, I would think longingly of the pampering you get on an international flight. Maybe I should try flying to a foreign country again someday (smile). Anyway, we had a layover in Frankfort, Germany, and then boarded another plane to get to Rome. On this flight, we got sandwiches that my mom and I still rave about sometimes. I think it was the bread that made it so delicious. It was some kind of herb bread, but I don’t think we ever figured out what kind of bread it was. Other than that, the flight was uneventful, and I didn’t squeeze my mom’s arm as hard now that I knew what to expect.
When we landed in Rome, I remember my first thought being “we are actually there”! but my second thought was “I am tired”. I was too anxious about the trip on the plane, despite having over 8 hours that I could have slept, but there was no nap for the weary travelers. Instead, there was a “bus tour” of Rome. My mom and I still talk about the infamous bus tour with a laugh. Why? What our tour guides called a bus tour was actually a short bus ride in to Rome, where we were dropped off, and picked up again five and a half hours later! And unbeknownst to me at the time, walking in Italy is not like walking in the United States because In Italy, the streets and sidewalks are paved with cobblestones. If you have never walked on cobblestones, let me just say that they make the ground very uneven, not a good thing for someone like me who is not confident with their balance. It took me a few days to get used to this terrain. While the rest of the choir had no problem keeping up with the fast walking tour guides, I held on to my mom’s arm with one hand, and the arm of another choir mom who is a wonderful friend of ours, and agreed to help. But even with two people supporting me, we barely kept up with the group. Sometimes when I think back on the trip, especially now that I have Gilbert, and training with him forced me to gain a little more confidence with my balance, I wonder what it might have been like to walk through Italy with Gilbert. I certainly did not need anymore stress, and walking through Italy is stressful, not just because of the terrain, but also because traffic laws are different in Italy, and you must judge very carefully when to cross the street, because often times, cars do not stop for pedestrians. But sometimes I think it might be interesting to go to Italy now that I have Gilbert to see if I might view Italy with more confidence. But that is a long way off, if it happens at all. I have enough challenges on my plate with college (smile).
Anyway, we stopped briefly outside some of the attractions for some general history, like the Colicium, and the Panthion, but mostly we walked, and the more we walked, the more exhausted and cranky I was getting. At long last, when I found myself stepping back on to the bus to go to our motel, I think I smiled as if the bus driver was a savior.
Before the trip, my uncle, a seasoned traveler who flies to Europe with his job, warned me about jet lag, and warned me firmly, “do not let yourself nap on the bus, or you will not be able to adjust to the new time zone and sleep at night.” But I was so exhausted that I forgot all about this advice, and was sound asleep. The only thing I remember about the bus ride was my mom adjusting my head when I was doing the head bob so I wouldn’t have a stiff neck. Shortly after checking in to our rooms, we had a lasagna dinner, and I never remember lasagna tasting so wonderful in my life. All of my crankiness and soreness melted away with each bite. After dinner, my friends were encouraging me to enjoy the nightlife, or sit outside on the balcony, but all I wanted to do was go to bed, so that is exactly what I did. It turned out my uncle was wrong about me not being able to sleep if I took a nap, because I slept like a baby. My mom and I shared a room with another girl from choir, and my mom later told me that she was talking loud when she came back to the room, and my mom was furious that she might have woken me up. But if I heard her, I don’t remember.
Though the trip had not begun the way I had hoped, there was no turning back now, and I knew that despite my exhaustion and feeling discouraged, I remember falling asleep thinking, “I am not a quitter!” I resolved to take one day at a time, and before I gave too much thought about the difficulties, think about the wonderful memories that would be made. Sitting here reflecting back on the trip today, I have to say I am glad that this was the attitude I chose.

Five years ago this summer, I was preparing to start high school, a huge endeavor since back then, high school was a new building to learn. But that was not the only adventure of the summer. That was also the summer that I had my first, and probably last trip to a foreign country.
I love to sing, and although my school district had excellent music programs in elementary school, middle school and high school, in seventh grade, I decided that I wanted to sing in a community choir on the side; a choir for serious singers, not just bratty kids looking for an easy class, and I wanted more opportunities to perform besides the winter and spring concert for the parents. When I expressed this to my music teacher, she recommended the Milwaukee Children’s choir. So, the summer before seventh grade, I went to an audition, and was accepted in to the concert choir. And just as I thought, I loved it. At first, it was difficult because I was not used to evening rehearsals, and the choir director caught me dozing off once, and she was strict to the point that many students quit, I found out latter. But the choir director never had to shout over chattering kids, and I met some wonderful friends, who did not groan when the choir director wanted them to sing. We also had some fun opportunities. Once, everyone was excused from school to go to a school in the city and sing with some Hispanic kids, a fun experience. We also did a concert with the symphony orchestra. The next year, I went to another audition, and was accepted in to the Cantorei choir, the highest level in the Milwaukee Children’s Choir program, and this presented even more exciting opportunities. One of these opportunities was a once in a lifetime experience that I could not pass up; a tour in Italy.
Preparations for this adventure actually began at the beginning of my eightth grade year. It was the first night of rehearsal in Cantorei choir, and on this night, there is always a meeting for students and parents. After the usual explanation of policies, and commitments, the big announcement was made. In the summer, the choir was planning to tour in Italy. When I auditioned for Concert choir the year before, the director had told my parents and me about tours abroad that the Cantorei choir has taken, including Japan and England, and even then I remember thinking, wow! What would it be like to sing for people in a foreign country? So right away when I heard this announcement, I wanted to go. The funny thing was, I guess my mom didn’t realize that I had curiousity about singing in a foreign country, because she told me later that when she heard the announcement, she immediately thought “She won’t want to go”. So when she found out that I did want to go, she was surprised. Both of us knew there would be challenges like raising the money for one, and traveling with all of my medication. One of my medications at that time had to be kept cold. How were we going to do this in such a hot climate? And to top it all off, I had never been on an airplane, and was nervous about the prospect of flying for the very first time. Nonetheless, I might never forgive myself if I passed up such an exciting opportunity, and despite my mom’s apprehention, she also agreed that I shouldn’t pass it up, and since I was so young and had special needs, she said she was going with me. We were in this together.
It is amazing how many arrangements must be made to travel to a foreign country, especially when you are traveling for the first time. There was of course the financial arrangements. The choir required large deposits for the trip to be paid throughout the year, and since my mom was paying for two, she had to work extra hours-I feel guilty about this now, but it was a worthwhile once in a lifetime experience-and I helped out at a fundraiser, making and selling pizza. We also had to go to the bank and exchange dollars for euros, so we would have spending money. Then of course, I needed a passport, and since I was a minor, both my parents had to go to the downtown post office and wait in a long line to fill out an application for it. Then we had to make sure there would not be a problem bringing some of my medication on an airplane, so at the doctor, my mom asked the doctor for an official letter we could show airport security about my medications. Not only that, but the doctor suggested that for one of my medications which I take in pill form, we should also order in injectable form for the trip in case I get sick and cannot keep the pill down. And this is a very important medication. The brain tumor which caused my blindness by destroying my optic nerve also destroyed my pituitary gland which means that I do not make some necessary hormones naturally. This particular pill is called the stress hormone, and if I don’t get enough of it when I am in stressful situations like hot climate, or if I run a fever, it can be serious. So we also had to worry about needles. Then of course, I told you about that medicine that had to be kept cold, so we had to shop for something portable that would keep my medicine cold because Italy is not America, where you can request a refrigerator or ice for your motel room. We ended up getting this portable cup shaped thing to put the medicine in, and it can be plugged in when you are in the motel. But Europe has different electrical currents, so we had to buy a special power converter too! And if all of this preparation does not sound overwhelming enough, we also had to think about pickpockets! The choir director had been to Italy before, and said that she was robbed twice! So we had to shop for a purse for medicine and money that would be convenient, and as secure as possible from pickpockets. And last but not least, we had to pack carefully. If we didn’t have all the pieces to my choir uniform, I would not be able to sing, and if I forgot any of my medicine, there is no Walgreens in Italy. And remember when I said that this was my first and last trip abroad? It is my last trip abroad because I found this website from a company called Mobility International, an organization dedicated to helping people with disabilities study abroad, just to see what is involved with taking a guide dog to a foreign country. I guess every country has different regulations about whether dogs are allowed, so you must first do your research to see if your dog is allowed in the country you visit. Then there are all kinds of permits you have to have, and show customs when you get to the country, and with that, paperwork that you are advised to fill out a year in advance. I wouldn’t want to leave Gilbert at home that long, but I can tell you right now that if I had guide dog access to worry about on top of all of the other preparations I mentioned, I would have lost my mind. Anyway, as you can probably imagine, by July 8 2004, when we were scheduled to depart from Chicago, I think my mom and I were both exhausted. And the real adventure was only just beginning.

Well, at the end of last week, my family and I took our first vacation with Gilbert. I know taking a vacation may not seem like a big deal to veteran guide dog handlers, but for me, this vacation was a monumental event that I was both excited, and slightly nervous about.
Every year, my family, which now means my parents and I since my siblings moved away, has kept the tradition of going to Wisconsin Dells. It is known as the Waterpark Capital of the World, and when my siblings still came with us, we would spend a whole day at Noah’s Ark, the largest of the waterparks. but there are plenty of other fun things to do besides spend the day at the waterpark. Since I like the wave pool and lazy river, but hate other water slides and roller coasters because I hate getting soaked by squirt guns or sucked under water without warning, and since admission in to waterparks is expensive anyway, my parents and I have enjoyed the other attractions of the Dells. We especially love driving through town when we first arrive, just to see what has changed, and since my parents came to the dells even before they had children, it is kind of interesting to sit in the back and listen to them reminisce about what new things have been built, and what old attractions are gone. The town is also a lively place at night, and it is fun to just walk around and listen to the happy crowds, and the town is full of local family owned restaurants, and shops. Since my parents have been working hard painting the house, and since I have been bored at home, we decided it was time to go to the Dells.
We decided we would leave Thursday morning and come back Friday evening. This meant of course, that we would need to get a motel room for Thursday night, and this was what made me most nervous. The only other overnight trips we have taken with Gilbert were to Indiana to visit my grandma, and we always spend the night at her house, so I wasn’t sure what to expect, or if any issues would come up when I took Gilbert in to a motel. And most of all, I did NOT want to have to sleep in a smoking room! The dog trainer told me that legally, motels have to allow guide dogs, but because of issues with allergies, they may give you a smoking room. I tried not to let it show, but I was appaled that motels could do that! I don’t mean to sound cold and unempathetic, but I have strong words for people who claim to be allergic to pets. If someone would need to call 911 after exposure to animals because they are unable to breathe or something, then they absolutely have the right to a clean room that hasn’t had a dog in it, and they should not have pets at home. But if someone is afraid of a little sneezing, or a little runny nose, or a slight itch in the eye, too bad! Sometimes, especially after touching my cat or holding her close to my face-she attacks us if we try to brush her-I sneeze a little bit too. But a little sneezing won’t kill you, and it is no reason to deny yourself, or your family the joy and love that a pet brings to the home. Yes, guide dog handlers should brush their dogs regularly because well groomed dogs are less likely to aggrevate allergies, but I think some people who complain about allergies need to just get over it! (Sorry, rant complete) On the other hand, I have slept in smoking rooms a couple of times with my family because all other rooms were full, and it is so unpleasant. My dog trainer said that they try to clean the rooms, but if they do, I cannot tell: the stench is strong and horrible. For smokers who are used to the stench, this is fine, but I do not smoke, never will, and should not have to sleep in such unpleasant conditions just because I have a guide dog.
My parents and I decided to be a little cautious for this first motel experience, and my dad found a notel that is rated number 1 in the area for cleanliness, and it also happened to be pet friendly. Even so, I told my dad not to mention one word about my guide dog when he made the reservation. When we got to the motel, Mom and I waited until my Dad checked in, and had a key in his hand before going to our room so that if the manager saw me walk in with Gilbert, they could not force us to switch rooms without looking very suspicious. And I will continue this tactic for all future motels as well.
It turned out we had nothing to worry about. Nobody confronted us, and except for a little barking when we left Gilbert in his crate so we could swim, he behaved very well. The pool was right outside of our room because the room was one of those that are more like cabins that you enter from outside. So my parents could hear him barking, and brought him outside right away, so he did not disturb anyone. He was probably scared about being left alone in an unfamiliar place, so I did not reprimand him. After swimming, we got dressed and took a walk on the strip. It was a beautiful evening for a walk, and it was great to have the chance to work Gilbert in a new place. I think he got a little stressed out because the sidewalks were very crowded in some places, and it didn’t help that two bratty little kids got right in front of him, and popped a whoopy cushion, and one of those rubber things you turn inside out, and let go, making a loud pop. These incidents caused Gilbert to jump back and cower. He doesn’t like sudden loud noises. But I was happy that the father of these boys really let them have it, and demanded that they apologize. I provided an opportunity for a much-needed lesson in how you treat service dogs, which will maybe mean that these children will be more respectful in the future.
But he did a beautiful job guiding me, and when we got to Pedro’s a Mexican restaurant where we decided to have dinner, he got lots of pets from adoring customers, and one of the waiters, and he was wagging his tail again. On the way back to our motel from the restaurant, we took the same route, but I didn’t realize until the second time through how narrow the sidewalk was on this one bridge we crossed because going to the restaurant, the street was on the left which meant that Gilbert was closest to the street, but on the way back, the street was on the right, so I was closest to the traffic. My parents were concerned that Gilbert did not realize how close to the street I was, and feared that I could fall off the curb right in to oncoming traffic. My parents told me to tell Gilbert to move left every few minutes and nothing happened, but they thought that unless I called the dog trainer out to help me train Gilbert to be mindful of how narrow the sidewalk was, I should never walk those kinds of sidewalks by myself. But it was still a valuable experience for Gilbert.
The next morning, we went out to breakfast, and then came back to the motel for another swim. After checking out of the motel, Gilbert got another memorable experience: he got to meet horses! Usually, the tradition is to take a boat tour because they stop at some cool places, and the history of the Indians who used to live in the dells is fascinating, not to mention the fact that we just love being on the top deck of a boat, with the wonderful cool breeze hitting the face. But it was only 60 degrees, or something crazy like that, and rainy too. So we decided to try something we had never done before, but always wanted to do. We took a horsedrawn carriage tour through a canyon in the dells. The only thing we worried about was what Gilbert would do when he saw the horses. I don’t know whether or not Gilbert was ever exposed to horses as a puppy, but this was the first time I have come in to contact with horses since I had him. The man at the ticket booth assured us that there was no problem with me bringing a guide dog, and he even allowed us to take Gilbert over to look at the horses who were already hitched to the wagon, and quietly waiting. Gilbert handled the horses very well. I think he put his head over the fence and sniffed them, and when one of the horses moved, he jumped back a little, but that was all. I held tight to the leash during the ride just in case, but there were no problems.
After that, we went to the Cheese Factory, a local vegetarian restaurant that has become a favorite of my parents and me. I got a triple decker grilled cheese that was actually named one of the best grilled cheese sandwiches in the nation, and it was good! We especially love their desserts too, and I got a fudge browny. Then we went to a candy factory that sells cow pies. Don’t worry. It’s not the cowpie you are probably thinking of (smile). These cow pies are chocolate turtles in the shape of cow pies, filled with caremell and nuts. If you can get passed the name, they are amazing! And you can only get them from this candy factory in Baribou, a town just outside the dells.
Unfortunately, my mom had to work Saturday, so we headed home. But a wonderful time was had by all, including Gilbert. And seeing how smoothly this vacation went, I can be less apprehensive about vacations in the future.

Guess what I was doing one year ago today? I was shopping for the supplies I would need for Gilbert who would be my buddy in just three weeks! The Sunday before, I received an e-mail from the dog trainer with the list of dog supplies I would need. My mom took me shopping for the supplies, and although we didn’t find everything we needed that day, we got a great start. I know this might sound silly to some, but as I was shopping, the thought occurred to me that the excitement of preparing for a guide dog is comparable to an expecting mother preparing to bring a baby home from the hospital. My vision teacher did not think this was a silly comparison though when I told her my feelings because she was just as excited that I would be getting a guide dog as I was, and even briefly mentioned having a puppy shower for Gilbert. We didn’t actually have a shower because life was too hectic for both of us, but it was a cool idea.
There actually wasn’t that much to buy, but it took a long time to find the supplies because unlike our pets where we could just buy their food at Walmart, along with the cheap plastic brushes, since guide dogs are so valuable, and must be cared for even better than a family pet since they are out in public, the dog trainer had specific recommendations for toys, brushes, dishes and food. Our first stop was Petsmart, where we found bowls: the dog trainer recommended stainless steel bowls. With Indy, we had dog dishes, but I think my parents gave them to my brother after Indy died, so when we kept Mojo, we would just use people bowls for food and water, and then run them through the dishwasher. But my mom and I both agreed that my guide dog should have proper dog dishes. It was kind of funny because we didn’t know how much food Gilbert would get, but we figured that since he was going to be kind of a big dog, we would get giant bowls. It turned out that he only ate a cup and a half of food mixed with water twice a day, which only covered the bottom of the bowl. After we had Gilbert for two weeks, we realized that we should have a set of dog dishes for home, and a set for the dorm to make life easier when I came home, so for the second set, we bought smaller bowls. We still have the big bowls, but they serve as water dishes, and the smaller bowls are for food. We also thought it might be smart to buy dishes with rubber around the bottom edge so that they wouldn’t skid if I tripped over them: this happened to me with Indy and Mojo, and I hate cleaning up spilled water. But I didn’t realize until I had Gilbert for a few days, what a pain it was to have to wash his dishes by hand-the rubber meant that they were not dishwasher safe-and the rubber was starting to fall off anyway. So my mom and I just decided to take the rubber off. Now, I can just pop his dish in the dishwasher after every meal. I do still bump in to the dishes sometimes, but cleaning up spilled water isn’t that hard. And let’s not forget about poop bags (grin). I think we bought those at Petsmart as well.
We also bought a nylabone, a squeaky ball, and kong at that store, but had to go to Pet World for grooming supplies. The dog trainer recommended a curry comb, and a metal rake for brushing Gilbert, but we weren’t quite sure what to get. It turned out the dog trainer liked our rake, but we had gotten a curry comb with soft bristles, and on the third day of training, the trainer brought us a curry comb with sharp bristles. It really does an awesome job of loosening hair by the way.
But finding the recommended food proved to be the biggest challenge. The dog trainer recommended Nutrisource because it is natural, and power packed so he doesn’t have to eat very much. But I think we scoured every store in the area, and found that Pet Supplies Plus is the only store that carries it! Since it obviously isn’t a very popular brand, there is the possibility that even Pet Supplies Plus might stop carrying it one day, but it has always been available so far. We also bought two nice storage containers there: a big one with wheels, and a smaller one for the dorm. I think this is also where we found some really good dog treats. They are natural, and I think they have rosemary and thyme in them. When I showed the treats to my brother he teased me saying something like “those aren’t dog treats! You should give him treats with meat in them!” But I love these treats because unlike the meat treats where you want to hold your nose, and wash your hands because they smell disgusting, these treats smell good! They must taste fine to Gilbert too, because he has never complained. He’ll eat anything (smile). Oh we also bought a cute plastic “cookie jar” to keep his treats in.
The school provided two crates, a big spacious one for home-actually, the dog trainer didn’t realize how huge it was until my parents put it together-and a much smaller one for the dorm.
Like I said, we didn’t find everything that day. Even after having Gilbert a couple weeks, we made some adjustments like buying the other set of bowls, as well as a collapsible water dish. In fact, on my very first day with Gilbert, while I stayed home to bond with him, my parents got the dog bed from Farm and Fleet because we weren’t sure what size to get until we saw the crate. But this day will always be special for me because while shopping for dog supplies may seem trivial to some, this event is when it sank in that I was actually getting a guide dog. My baby was coming home soon!

Around this time last year, I read the cutest article in the July issue of the Braille Forum. In less than a month, I would begin training with Gilbert, and I must admit that at that time, I was so impressed with how well other blind people I knew worked with their guide dogs, and how well these dogs were trained that in my mind, they weren’t just dogs, but perfect little angels. When I saw this article last July, I couldn’t help laugh, and reading it now that I have had Gilbert for almost a year I laugh even harder because Gilbert has made me realize how true the message of this article is. Even guide dogs are still just dogs. I think you will all enjoy this article too. In parenthesis throughout the article are my comments about Gilbert.
THE GUILTY PLEASURES OF GUIDE DOGS
by Alysia Wells
Here we are in our doggie group therapy. Today we're really just going to roll over, kick back, stretch out, with no taboos. It's a beautiful day in the doggie neighborhood, and it's time to reveal some secrets! We are joined by a very cute goldador, Molly. She's a dickens and kind of an instigator, helping us relax and unleash some inhibitions. Molly's so little and cute and sneaky that no one suspects her of straying from a rule-abiding course.
Some people are moved to tears by our abilities, good judgment and loyalty, and some people idolize guide dogs and imbue us with superpowers. Now I'm not saying that a few of us haven't been responsible for some miracles that saved lives, but most of us just do a good job most of the time. We're gifted but not perfect! We're not lovely statues or robots that conform neatly to every circumstance we're confronted with, and we develop differently in our careers. We have faults. Needless to say, some of us backslide, forget things, misjudge, fail, act irresponsibly, have a bad moment, a bad day!
Despite our training and glorification, we're still dogs with canine interests, and that's the topic today. We sometimes consider other things besides guiding you people. Sometimes a random incident which maybe has no comparable human significance thrills us and makes our day! We have chosen to remain anonymous today for you readers because what happens is only for us to know about, so maybe you can hold tight to your ideals and think, "no, no, not my wonderful, innocent doggie!"
"A box of Honey Nut Cheerios fell off the closet shelf upside down, and out tumbled many tidbits of delight. My person hadn't noticed the spill yet, and I became the vacuum cleaner, sucking the sweet morsels down my throat like there was no tomorrow!
"Yes, I love to eat forbidden things! Once, my buddy and I consumed a pound of butter left out on the table. And how about a paper towel soaked in bacon grease! Sometimes the TV is on so loud in the other room, I can get in the trash without being caught and extract some real goodies. Yum!" We all lick our lips in unanimous agreement, remembering shameful forays in places we shouldn't have been exploring. (Fortunately there have not been any massive spills since I got Gilbert, but if someone drops a chip or anything, he doesn’t miss a beat. Our garbage cans have lids, so I don’t have to watch him at home, but when we went to my grandma’s house for Christmas, I forgot to make sure the garbage cans had lids on them, and sure enough, he ate something from the garbage can and puked on the way home. To make matters worse, when we pulled over to clean it up, most of the disposable wet wipes we brought were frozen, so we couldn’t clean it up very well. When we got home, we tried to clean it thoroughly, but after a six hour car ride, it was pretty well ground in, and you can still smell it sometimes when the weather is hot).
"I noticed a cookie under this long table where many people were convening for a church potluck. The people were blabbing away, and I started inching, inching like an inchworm, stretching my neck, sticking out my tongue, oh, just a little more, carefully straining my leash as far as it would go -- ever so slowly -- laughter and banter above -- this is so cool - - I'm getting away with it! Is she putting her hand down here to check on me? Oh, no! She's just fingering the napkin! Now I resume my quest, concentrate, reach, got it!! Fantastic victory! This was a major accomplishment and as rewarding as any praise for my good deeds!" (Gilbert is so guilty of this! Whenever we are at a restaurant, or in the dining room at my college, he will try to inch toward a crumb he spots on the floor. My parents and I call it the marine crawl).
"You all and your food cravings! I just like mischief sometimes! If I'm left alone, even when I know better, it's anybody's guess what I might do, maybe nothing, or maybe get all the stuffing out of a big couch pillow and watch the stuffing expand so I can spread it all around everywhere and have some fun! Yes, I have proper dog toys, but this is more challenging and gratifying!" (Gilbert has not chewed open couch cushions, but occasionally, he will find a sock, or a house slipper to chew on. Once, after letting him out the to relieve, we walked through the laundry room to get back in to the house, and when I took off his leash and opened the door, he was behaving a little suspiciously: wagging his tail a little too hard for the occasion, and then running in to the family room as soon as I opened the door. Then I heard him chewing on something that didn’t sound like his usual toys, but every time I approached him to investigate, he would run away! When I finally cornered him and pried his mouth open, sure enough, he had a slipper.)
"My goodness, you're brave! I don't like getting in trouble and would rather do something less obvious like jump up on the sofa at night to sleep. No one will know about that because I hear footsteps and jump down!" (Gilbert stays off the furniture in the house, but a couple times, I would get Gilbert situated in the the car, and then walk back in to the house to get something. When I come back, he is always in the driver’s seat).
"Well, that's just silly and boring! Your fur stays there on that sofa, and the truth will come out soon enough. I love water and can't resist leading my person through a big puddle once in a while!" (Gilbert loves puddles too. If my dad is with me, he will insist on making Gilbert go around the puddle, or doing sighted guide if the puddle is really big. But personally, while it is unpleasant when your socks, or the bottom of your pants are dragged through puddles, a little water never hurt anybody, so I don’t mind this mischeviousness. What I do hate though is when Gilbert wanted to walk me through snow banks in the winter even when there is plenty of room to go around them. Silly dog)!
"Oh, that's mean!" Even little Molly is shocked at this point. But we proceed forward with another admission.
"I love the ocean, speaking of water, don't you all?" Heidi, the prissy German shepherd, lowers her magnificent head in mild disgust. "Anyway, I love to swim, and I plunged into the ocean, snuffling, reveling, and unfortunately, drinking! As I shook off, my person was happy for me at first, enjoying my glee, but then later, that balmy salt water went right through me, and it wasn't pretty! My person had to pay an extra fee for cleanup in that hotel room, where they'd been so nice to me, too. Oh well, it wasn't my money, and I still love the ocean. I just won't drink it!" (I have not had the chance to take Gilbert swimming yet, but based on his reaction to rain puddles and snow banks, I bet he will love it)! Heidi is gloating. How embarrassing! I'm glad we aren't naming names today!
As dogs, we have random, disconnected thoughts and dreams " I just want to roll in the grass all day! I NEVER need a bath! I don't like your sister's perfume. I smell chicken all the time! I dream about dog parks where I'm completely free and meet my doggie soul mate! If that cat comes any closer, it's dead! I want to dig a hole and rest in cool moist dirt! Please rub my belly, and then scratch under my chin! Make me happy!" (If you rub Gilbert’s belly, he will love you forever). Words aren't as important as actions. I can unwrap a Hershey bar faster than you can. I can open a gate latch which is doggie-proof!
Anyway, sit up straight, stand at attention, confession time is over! Woof! Woof! Reporting for duty!

One year ago today was my last official day of high school, but surprisingly, it wasn’t the happy day of celebrations I had thought it would be. While most young girls dream of their wedding, I never had much of an interest in boys, and so even in third grade when my oldest brother graduated high school, I started dreaming of my own high school graduation. I remember my brother saying the last day of school for seniors was only a half day and during my freshman, sophomore and junior years, the last couple days of any classes with seniors in them were filled with either movies or games, and they did not have to take exams. So you can imagine my disappointment when I learned that my senior year, the school decided to make he last day for seniors a full day. I really shouldn’t be complaining though because I have heard that next year, seniors are going to have to stay in school through exams! This is so ridiculous to me! Senior year of high school is a major milestone in life, and I don’t see the harm in letting seniors have a few perks, like getting out early and skipping exams. Enough with my ranting (smile). I still got out of school early, but all of my particular teachers wanted me to take exam, and since teachers were teaching material right up to the last week before exams, I had to cram in four big exams in only three days while my friends played games in their classes.
One year ago today, I remember having a regular Algebra class first hour, a Spanish test second hour, and I was supposed to finish my Algebra exam third hour with my math teacher, who graciously agreed to read the test because I did not have an aid for my last semester. But my math teacher had a lot to do, trying to help other seniors with their exams, and hosting review sessions for the younger students who would be taking the exam the next week. So third hour, I went to the room where we had agreed to meet for the test, and waited over half an hour. He did not show up. Needless to say, I was livid. I forgot to mention that on top of taking exams, I also had to clean out all of my stuff from the resource room in the library that I had used all four years of high school, check that all of my textbooks were accounted for, and get my braillenote, which the district had bought for my use until I graduated, at which time, it would be passed on to another blind student, cleaned up and ready for a new student. I did not have time to waste.
But it was kind of funny because when I realized that my math teacher was not coming, I went back to the library resource room , and shortly after I came back, the librarian walked in to get something. The library staff graciously agreed to convert part of their storage room in to my resource room, and I saw them a lot when they came in to get things. I saw the librarian so often we almost had a friend relationship rather than a faculty to student relationship, so when she came in to the room on this particular day, I let loose with my frustration about the teacher not showing up, and ended the story by saying, “I am NOT staying after school to finish a math exam!” She responded by exclaiming with a laugh “How assertive they become!”. This made me laugh too, and temporarily melted my frustration.
Fourth hour, I finished my Ecology exam, and finished an Economics exam fifth hour. Sixth hour, despite everything I still needed to do, I went to lunch for the last time in the senior lounge, a room off the cafeteria that was much quieter and more comfortable than the cafeteria, with two fluffy couches and a television. Another girl had gotten a cupcake in one of her classes and did not want it. I took her cupcake as a way of consoling myself from feeling like the only senior who was taking tests on what was supposed to be a day of celebration (smile). Four minutes after the bell marking the end of seventh hour, I finally finished the math exam, and frantically hurried to eighth hour, where there would finally be a party! I arrived out of breath, and stressed about all of the packing I would have to do after school, but it was wonderful to have a piece of the traditional cake the choir teacher always brings for the seniors, and talk with my friends about how fast high school went, and tell my younger friends how fast this day would be upon them too. Then, we started counting down the minutes until the end of high school. When the bell rang at 3:07, a cheer went up from seniors all over the school. I had witnessed this senior cheer my freshman, sophomore and junior year, and couldn’t wait to be able to cheer myself! Since I ride a special bus for handicapped students that leaves a little earlier than everyone else, my mom agreed to pick me up from school just so I could participate in the cheer (smile). After school, my mom and I said thank you and goodbye to my choir teacher and the librarian, and my mom helped me pack up all of my supplies from the resource room. High school, in the academic sense, was over.
The evening turned out to be wonderful. After school, I rode with my mom to pick my brother up from work, went home for maybe five minutes, and then I went to a senior banquet, where we had a nice dinner, and a chance to sign yearbooks and talk to friends, many of whom I had known since elementary school, one last time before we parted for college. I also came home with a laundry bag, and an ipod shuffle that I had won in a door prize drawing! My mom picked me up from this at about 9:30, and even though there had been a tun of food at the party, my mom and I had our own celebration by getting icecream from Kulvers, which we ate in the car on the way home. My icecream ended up turning in to a huge puddle in my lap because it was filled to overflowing, and partially melted, making me feel more like a three-year-old than a soon-to-be high school graduate (smile), but it was still delicious, and the perfect end to a wonderful high school career, and a crazy day.
What does this have to do with my guide dog experience? Nothing, of course. But my last day of high school was just the beginning of what would turn out to be a crazy, chaotic, but ultimately wonderful summer. In just two months, I would go from being a carefree high school girl, to a guide dog user a transformation that has been difficult at times, but mostly rewarding.

One year ago today was one of those days you wait for all year: 70 degrees, a pleasant breeze, birds singing, and no bugs yet. And since I had no homework and only three days of high school left, I felt on top of the world. But this perfect day would be made even more perfect by a long awaited phone call. When my dad and I got home from church, I waisted no time, grabbing a Braille book and racing out to the porch swing, my favorite place to be on days like that. I spent a good two hours outside, and had come in for a break when the phone rang. I was standing by the computer in our family room talking to my dad, and when the phone rang, he answered it. I started to walk away because I hardly ever get phone calls. But then I could tell that my dad was talking with the president of my guide dog program, and I stopped in my tracks. Was this call about what I thought it was?! It was!
“You will be getting Gilbert!” the president exclaimed when my dad handed me the phone, “he sailed through traffic training!” I think I smiled like a person who just found out they won the lottery. All my worry and anxiousness that had been on my mind since May 14, and fear that Gilbert might not pass traffic training, melted in one moment in to pure joy and excitement. I no longer had to tell myself not to get my hopes up too high. Gilbert would be mine!
The trainer discussed starting training the week after my high school graduation, but I still had to submit the official application, and my health records. Since my parents were planning a graduation party, and a bridal shower for my sister in the same weekend, and since I knew I would need time to breathe after such a weekend filled with milestones, I reluctantly agreed life would be way too busy to train in June, and my family and the dog trainer had commitments in July. So we decided it would be best to start training in August. I was crushed about having to wait so long, but I knew that this would work out best for all involved, and last summer was so busy for me August came before I knew it. I have always thought of June as a month of happiness and hope, but last June was the happiest June of my life.