Meeting Suki

Ever since I returned from the short introductory course, I have not stopped thinking about getting a dog. I attempted to relieve the everyday difficulties of getting around with fantasizing about what would happen when the process of getting a dog moved on to the next stage. When would I receive a phone call? Would they ask me to come and see the dog first? Bring it into my room like they had done with Petel? What would be my dog’s name? What would it look like?

That phone call came as Yael, her friend Danit, Rotem, Carol, and I were driving home from the beach on the afternoon before Yom Kippur began. It was a phone call that I had imagined many times in my mind, but that I had not been expecting to come for several months yet. It was Ami from Beit Oved.

“We have a dog that we think would be a good one for you. Can you come down and walk with her so that we can decide with you if she’s the one?”

My exclamation of surprise immediately brought silence in the car, followed by my question: “Is she one of the dogs that was on our course?” At that everyone in the car immediately erupted into applause and shrieks of excitement. “Savta’s getting a dog!” shrieked Rotem. Attempting to quell the excitement, I asked everyone to stow it for a moment so that I could get the details. The dog was the golden retriever named Suki who had been with Orelia during the short evaluation course. She was, I remembered, lovely – a light buff color, with longer fur and a longer, slimmer build than Petel and the rest of the Labrador retrievers. We arranged that on Tuesday I would come down and giver her a “test run” before we decided, since I had never walked with Suki during the preliminary course. Ami called once more to verify that I would be free during the three weeks when the course would take place, and I said I would make myself free. There was nothing more important to me at the moment than getting a dog.

Tuesday morning I set out for Rehovot. When the train pulled into the station Ami called me.

We’re here at the northern exit to the station – Roi (another guide), Suki, and me. It was all I could do to restrain my excitement as I got off the train and raced as fast as I could through the underground tunnel and up the stairs. If I'd been able I would have taken the entire route at a run. I came through the turnstile and Ami called me over. Courtesy made me remember to greet the two trainers before I stooped down to pet Suki, who was standing quietly beside Ami in her harness. He handed me Suki’s leash and we walked outside to the car.

I asked how Suki, a golden retriever, was different than the mixed Labrador-Golden retrievers. “She’s smarter, more sophisticated. If you get her too used to one route, she’ll remember it and then if you want to change it, she may not go. She’s more delicate, too.” This dog evidently had a good sized hard disk and was eager to learn.

We drove a short distance and got out. Ami clipped an extra leash to Suki’s harness and we began walking. She was a gentle dog, somewhat playful, and I liked walking with her. At one point I felt her veer sharply to the left and Ami called her back with a command “Yashar!” (straight!) Suki had evidently jumped at a leaf blowing in the wind! A bit of discipline would be needed to tame that frivolous spirit when working, but I liked it. I liked this gentle dog with a delicate step. Who wouldn’t? Those floppy ears and that wet black nose are a knockout.
Ami and Roi and I stopped to talk after our walk. I told them I felt comfortable with Suki and told Ami I wanted her. Both felt that Suki and I could work well together.

I felt comfortable with this gentle tug that was guiding, yet not dragging me along the sidewalk. Ami took my hand as if I were holding the harness. and pulled firmly. “This is how Petel pulls.” He pulled hard. This is how Polly pulls.” We both laughed remembering the dog that we laughingly referred to as the “turbo.” “This is Suki.” A gentle tug with the up and down motion of a guide dog trotting that was now becoming increasingly familiar. They said they would like some time to talk without me and make a final decision. We drove back to the train station and they said they would call me later that day to let me know, but they thought that they would have a positive answer.
I bought a sandwich and a bottle of juice and settled down to wait for the train. My phone rang. It was Ami. He said they had talked about it.
“We’ve decided to go for it. You’ll receive a letter inviting you to the course October 18th. I could hardly believe it. This lovely, intelligent, and gentle dog would soon be mine!

Curious, I “googled” Suki’s name. I came up with the following:

Suki (Sanskrit) [from subh to shine] A daughter of the rishi Kasyapa, wife of Garuda, the king of the birds and vehicle of Vishnu; the mythical mother of parrots, owls, and crows (VP 1:21). In some legends, the wife of Kasyapa.
Suki (Japanese) Fondness, liking, or love

How very strange that several months ago I dreamt that I had gotten a white dog whose name I could not remember, but had something to do with shining light. I guess she was destined to be mine.

A Dog Named Petel

After a half year of waiting I was finally called to attend a three day evaluation course at Beit Oved, the Israeli center for training and distributing guide dogs for the blind. I spent three intense days there and the course ended with both me and the staff of the center deciding that a guide dog will provide a good solution to my increasing mobility problems. In brief, here’s what happened at the center.
I was invited to the course six months after I applied to receive a guide dog. The first stage in the application process (besides the endless forms!) was an interview in my home that took place last April. I was then called to embark upon the second stage – a three day evaluation course during which I would be able to get an idea of what it is like to work with and care for a guide dog.

When I arrived at the center I was given a personal and private tour of the facility. I was shown around my private room, told where everything was, and made to feel at home. The center is especially designed for people who cannot see and is meticulously planned in every detail. All light switches, doors, door frames, etc. are brightly colored, and all the floors and sidewalks are textured so that when you are walking you can orient yourself in a straight line. A button on my room key activates a sound of a bird calling and helps orient you towards the entrance to the park and pecan grove. Meals are served to everyone with appropriate help if needed. The club or common room had comfortable couches, facilities for making our own tea and coffee, a refrigerator, games, a large plasma TV and CD and DVD players, and, oh yes, a piano. It was the first institution that I have ever been to where people with disabilities are treated with total respect and without patronizing..

There were five of us on the course: Haim (and Sunny), Shmuel (and Polly), Orelia (and Suki), Mosheh (and Pedro) and me (with Petel). Some of the people were like me with partial vision, and two really saw nothing at all. We all got along extremely well and immediately established a great rapport.

After lunch the first day we were taken to the nearby town of Rishon LeTzion, where we each went through an evaluation by the two staff members, Ami and Rami. I was told to begin at the coffee house where everyone had sat down and walk with a cane in a normal fashion, and was given a route to follow that included crossing a busy intersection, walking down the other side of the street, crossing the street again, and walking back to the corner and returning to the coffee house. I set out, and when I got to the corner with the two staff members following me they asked me if I was willing to cross blindfolded. They helped me orient myself to the traffic pattern and I crossed the street and continued on my way. As I thought, I didn’t completely trust myself walking with a cane, but we soon switched to the simulated “harness training” in which the staff member takes the harness and leads you, playing the role of the dog. I immediately felt more confident, but somehow I sensed that working with a real dog would be even better.

The next morning after breakfast we all convened in the club and we were given instructions of how to receive our dogs. Each of us was to go back to their room, pick up any shoes or clothing off the floor that could lead to doggie mischief, sit on the floor, and take off any glasses or hats so that the dog would only see our face at eye level. I eagerly waited, feeling as jittery as if I were about to be called into a job interview! I heard knocking on the others’ doors, a dog barking, and finally a knock on my door. Rafi entered with the dog that would be with me for the next 24 hours.

“Bracha, this is Petel! (Raspberry). She’s a female, about a year and a half old.”



Petel, who would be my dog throughout the course, was a mixture of a Labrador retriever and golden retriever, and was large for a female. She was a lovely buff color with slightly darker areas on her back and ears. She herself had to make some adjustments as well, and paced about the room, sniffing and scratching at the door when she heard Ami and Rafi in the hallway. I called her to me and we were soon eye to eye on the floor, Petel belly up receiving a good scratching on her tummy and I received a very wet lick in return. That was it. It was love at first sight.

We then embarked on simple obedience training: How to take the dog out through the doorway. You first command the dog to sit, tell the dog to stay, open the door, and step through. Then you tell the dog to proceed into the room after you. (This is so that you won’t be led through a doorway that you have not scouted out yourself and run into the door frame by mistake.) We continued with more training, turning, walking, stopping, and laying down. Petel did everything I told her, even stayed put as I circled her with the leash extended, rotating her head around to follow me as I circled her.

All commands to the dogs are given in Hebrew in masculine form. I found this somewhat confusing, since I am used to addressing my female dogs in feminine. The dogs know how to sit, stay, lay down, go forward, heel, speed up, slow down, go right and left, and even piddle and poop on command. (There is probably more but I haven’t learned that yet on this short introductory course). They can also be taught other things such as finding an empty seat, finding doorways, a garbage can, etc. We were also given the responsibility of feeding our dogs and grooming them in a special room at the end of the hallway designed for that purpose. During the night Petel slept on a mat in my room on a short light chain clipped to a special place in the wall. She was extremely sensitive – if I merely put my hand on the leash and collar hanging on the wall she began to jump on me with excitement (evidence of the fact that she is not quite finished training yet). She was always very good. A command to sit and to lay down and a gentle shove under the couch in the common room (Petel, go be part of the furniture) would settle her down and she’d go to sleep).

That afternoon was then time to pile into the car and head for the town of Yavneh for our first walk with the dogs in harness. Again we were given a route to follow. Petel was put in her harness and we set out. One of the staff members held an extra leash just in case something got out of hand – sort of a driving instructor with an extra set of brakes in case the student makes a mistake! Halfway through the walk Ami produced the blindfold again and said he would like to see how confident I felt walking with a dog seeing nothing. The truth was that I felt much more confident walking with a dog blindfolded than I do walking without one and having to trust my own eyesight!. No more streetlight poles and trees jumping out in front of me. Petel and I trotted down the sidewalk, crossed a street with traffic, skirted trees, another pedestrian, and some of those damned concrete domes on the sidewalk.

Guide dogs are trained to walk in a straight line, turn on command, and most importantly – to stop at every up or down curb or staircase and wait for your command. They will skirt any obstacle on the sidewalk. I believe I saw Petel walk me around a manhole and a puddle of water, though Polly slipped up and did not lead me beyond the overhanging branches of a tree. Another month of training should correct that mistake.

On the last day we set out for Yavneh again, but this time we swapped dogs. This was done to show us how very different each dog is from another. I was told to take Polly – a large female, very powerful, who led me on what I can only describe as an endurance walk around the block. She was much more difficult to handle than Petel, and the person who got Petel was extremely impressed.
When we returned to Beit Oved the dogs were taken away and led back to the kennels, and I felt close to tears. It was now time for the final meeting, during which we were asked to offer our feedback about the course. This meeting would be followed by individual meetings and we would then reach a decision together with the staff members as to whether or not we would continue with the process of receiving a guide dog. I entered the meeting hoping that they would say yes. Rafi asked me how I felt after the course. I told him that I had wanted a dog really badly before and now I wanted one even more and that I thought it would help me a lot.
“We enjoyed working with you, and from our standpoint we also think that a guide dog will be helpful to you, and we’ll put you on the waiting list to receive a dog.”

That was it. I could hardly believe it. Six months of waiting were over. I was going to get a dog! I expressed my happiness and left the meeting. I don’t know exactly when the people at Beit Oved will find the ideal dog for me. The close relationship that is established between dog and owner, plus a variety of physical traits and characteristics, determine which dog is exactly right for each person. Somewhere out there – either at Beit Oved or in a preparatory foster home there is a dog that will be mine, hopefully soon.

Those of you interested in readong more about Beit Oved can visit their website.