Suki's Bedside Manner

Suki's elderly companion, thirteen-year-old Saoirse, underwent an operation this week to remove a benign growth on her hind leg. She returne confused, miserable, and in pain, and Suki showed her good bedside manner by lying down next to her and being there with her. Suki's presence seemed to calm Saoirse, who stopped crying and went to sleep. The next day we set out for a walk to the fields only to find that after we had walked for over a quarter of an hour Saoirse was plodding on determinedly benind us! Amazing how animals can recover so quickly and how resilient they can be.

 

For those of you interested, Saoirse is recuperating slowly but surely.

Who's Allowed and Who's Not

I wonder how the people make the criteria for deciding who's allowed in stores and restaurants and who's not. I mean, wouldn't it be logical to say that whoever makes noise and disturbs should not be allowed, and whoever sits quietly is? After all, why make a generalization about dogs? As an American blogger put it, why shouldn't dogs be allowed in restaurants? After all, the dog is on the floor and the food is on the table, so unless you plan on eating on the floor or putting the dog on the table, there should be no problem.

Twice the guard at the entrance to stores stopped Bracha and told her I was not allowed. She showed him the little card with the law and he quickly capitulated. And when we got to the restaurant we explained that I was a guide dog and they let us in. We soon settled down at a table and I was quite tired from traveling all day, so I crawled under the table and went to sleep. Meanwhile, a small child was screaming at the next table, making any conversation impossible. So he was quite a bother, but I didn't hear anyone telling his mother, "He's not allowed here."

Go figure.

Now, on to other more fun things. I have discovered the river. It has rushing water and I love to stand in it and get my feet wet. Now, I don't mind being really wet – so wet I have to shake myself off. After all, I am a golden retriever and retrievers were supposed to have been bred to retrieve fishing nets and ducks out of the water. But I do hate being just a little bit wet like when Bracha sprays me with flea repellent or that smelly stuff that makes my fur smooth and untangles my tail. YUCK.

But Bracha bought me something mew today – a toothbrush and toothpaste. She gave me a taste of the stuff to start. I wonder if I'm gonna like this…

Partying and Mischief

I was delighted yesterday to see that Bracha was arranging tables and chairs outside and people began to arrive with food and cakes. You know me – always ready to do my job as chief crumb gatherer. There was plenty and I also received lots of attention. Bracha let me wander about freely among the guests and (with the exception of a brief foray into the avocados from which I was firmly called back) I stayed where I was supposed to. Bracha even let one of the guests take me for a walk around the moshav on a leash – a rare treat – and I behaved beautifully so that she would allow this again in the future. Dana, the nice woman who took me, asked Bracha if she closed her eyes would I guide her, but Bracha explained that I only do that when I am in harness. On the leash I am just like any other dog!

I did, however, abuse my right to be on the patio alone and, I, er, performed some acrobatics and got up on top of the table where the cat food is stored. That was it: I was quickly taken indoors again and Bracha shouted "NO!" and turned her back on me and crossed her arms to show me she was really cross. I hate that. But I know that was really naughty.

But this week my friend, the big black dog Saoirse has to have an operation, and afterwards she will not be feeling well. I promise to try and be very nice to her until she feels better.

I really do hope Bracha doesn't stay angry at me for long. I would really like another walk to the big green field.

 

Why Traveling is so Tiring

Don't get me wrong. I am very glad I have Suki. I really don't know how I got along without her. A woman writing to the Israel Guide Dog Users' Forum aroused an interesting discussion when she voiced her deliberations of whether or not to take a guide dog: she wanted the mobility and independence that a dog can offer, but doesn't particularly like dogs, doesn't feel confident she can deal with the care of a dog, and is afraid of other dogs on the street barking at her, and feels that her family will not want to deal with the dirt that a dog makes in the house, etc. I encouraged her to weigh the pros and cons. Thinking over it, I realize what my difficulty is with Suki and why I come home from long trips with her so exhausted: the reason is that people, whether they are supportive or out to hassle, never leave us alone.

Traveling alone, I would get on a bus or train, sit down, and pass the journey, perhaps occasionally talking to someone, but more or less free to read, listen to music, etc. In a restaurant I would be free to sit alone and quietly have a cup of coffee. On a bus no one would notice me. Now, wherever I go, people – for good or for bad – are always interacting with me or with my dog. Even walking down the street, someone is always making a comment either to us directly or talking about us as we pass by. (Evidently they feel people with guide dogs also don't hear or are oblivious of being talked about in third person.

So this is why it is exhausting. I've dwelt on the hassling, the shouting drivers, the arguments. But as nice as it can be, even the people who interact positively can be tiring. Someone always wants to talk about my dog. As the late Arieh Shmidt put it, "No one wants to talk to me. They just want to pet my dog." They croon over her, say she's beautiful, ask how old she is, say they have a dog just like her at home (riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight), or launch into a long description of a dog they have or once had. Then there are the debates and suggestions: No, she's not a Labrador, she's a Golden. Yes, I'm sure. Yes, she is pure golden. No, I'm not training her, I'm using her as my guide dog, no you can't feed her, please don't pet her now, we're crossing the road and that will disturb her. And the advice: Give her some chicken or cottage cheese for a change. She needs a little variety. You should give her a haircut. She's too thin. She needs to eat right now…It's endless. And no, she is not for sale.

It is very sweet that the man in the coffee shop wants to croon over my dog and get down on the floor and pet her and give her a thorough belly rub and massage, but perhaps I want to sit alone and not have someone under my table while I drink my coffee? Perhaps I want to listen to music on the train and not want to launch into a half hour interview of where I got my dog and hear about the woman's adorable little Pincher. (I hate pinchers!) And perhaps I'd like to have some peace and quiet. It's hard to fend off well-meaning admirers. Sitting on the bus, it's sometimes like standing in a reception line at a wedding, where everyone passing by has to pat Suki on the head as they walk through the bus.

And Suki herself? I think she badly needs some quiet time during the day to catch a few winks between tasks. Coming home at night on the train, she is exhausted, and goes to sleep for the entire trip. Fortunately she knows how to crawl under the seats and find a secure, quiet place to be left in peace and quiet. Maybe I should join her there.

So now that I'm finished complaining, I'll add one more thing: I would never think of going anywhere without Suki.

Working Hard

Oh, bliss to be back in my own bed again! After two days in the city I realize what a lucky dog I am to live on a moshav. We left home yesterday, took the train to Haifa, a bus to the Emma (where Bracha actually put Emma on the floor and she almost looked like she was playing with her toys!), then another bus back to the train station (I almost cried with disappointment when the escalator was broken and we had to take the stairs), and a train on to Tel Aviv (there the escalator worked!), another bus and then we went to school to get Rotem. I was so excited I pulled hard on the harness and ran through the school gate. And if that wasn't enough, we went out to eat at a restaurant and I had to walk around the street at night. It was scary: there was a big, ferocious looking dog standing in a doorway, and I didn't want to pass him. But Bracha understood that I was truly afraid and not just pulling one of my stubborn acts of standing in place. I think she was a little scared of the dog, too. So she told me to turn and go down into the street around some parked cars and then I quickly found my way onto the sidewalk again after we passed him by. Then the next day it was more busses, and more walking, and finally, the train back home. For the first time I wished people would just stop petting and admiring me so that I could get some sleep.

I am, truly, a country dog. The city smells (the nerve of the bus driver who said I did!), and every time I sit down at a bus stop I get some dirt or grit or chewing gum caught in my fur. There is no room to move, and I never get to really run. And it's hot and Bracha gives me water out of my little portable cloth bowl constantly because I'm so thirsty.

But there are some things I just don't understand. Why does everyone say they have a dog "just like me"? How can they if they don't have a guide dog?

But I liked the little girl at Rotem's school who told Bracha that she used to be afraid of dogs until she saw me and now she's not afraid any more. Bracha told her she was a brave girl for deciding not to be afraid anymore and let her pet me. I made sure to wag my tail really hard to show her that I'm not scary. But I wonder why the man on the bus quickly got up and went to sit somewhere else when Bracha sat down next to him and I sat down on the floor. If a little child in Rotem's school isn't scared, how is it that big people are scared? What a pity. That means he never pets a dog. And Bracha told me that lately she read that when people pet dogs they release something called a hoar moan that makes them feel good and be healthier, and we also release a hoar moan that makes us feel good, and that people who have dogs have fewer heart attacks.

Now, how can a heart attack someone? There are so many things I just don't understand…

Suki and I will take no more Nonsense.

Not only was Suki feeling a bit off today, but it was one of those days spent listening to people complain and losing my temper. Suki had, for once, refused her dinner last night, probably having eaten, er, some avocado in the orchard. At least she had the sense to refrain from eating more. She was, however, happy, calm, and tail wagging when we set out, and I firmly gave her a good pull when she tried to stall on the road.

However, it seemed that the bus driver would have preferred that we stay home. He began with the usual nonsense of "Put a muzzle on your dog", to which I answered the usual defense, explaining politely that this was a guide dog and did not require a muzzle on the bus. The driver launched into a full-fledged tirade of how my dog smelled (which she does not) and why does HE have to put up with that? And now she's in the aisle, and look what a mess we make. It was at this point that I lost it. I told him I refused to be treated with disrespect, that I had no intention of staying home, and that I had a right to ride the bus like anyone else. I also told him my dog smelled better than a lot of people who ride the bus…"This dog is my eyes," I yelled. "Would you leave your eyes at home?"

When we reached Nahariya it seemed that he had calmed down a bit and realized he'd gone a bit too far, politely leaving me off at the curb at the bus station. I however, decided not to relent and marched to the office of the bus company, where I lodged a complaint. I told the man in charge that the drivers needed a good sound educational lecture about guide dogs on busses and that blind people deserve to be treated with respect and not shouted at. The driver, who had shown up after seeing me outside the office, attempted to minimize his remarks and defend himself by saying that I had been the one to start shouting, but at this point I was no longer willing to back down. "I refuse to put up with this every morning when I get on the bus," I explained. "I've had enough of this." The man agreed and promised to do something about telling all the drivers on that line. Let's see if it works.

Suki and I then walked to the clinic, where the receptionist began to tell me that dogs were not allowed, but then apologized because she had not seen Suki's harness from behind her station and had seen only her tail. The doctor, however, was enthralled with Suki, and asked me lots of questions about her and how I got her and worked with her. One thing is for sure: Suki and I will take no more nonsense.

 

Down to the River

There seems to be no end to the fabulous places that Bracha takes me to walk and run, but this time I was completely enthralled. We walked down all the back roads and across the field until there was a strange smell of wet plants, flowers, and lots of little things flying through the air. Suddenly there was a noise of running water: like when Bracha fills my water bowl from the faucet but much much louder, and then there was a hole in the fence. Bracha encouraged me to go through and there was running water! I ran right in and got my feet and stomach wet. So did Nuala. It was quite cold but since it was a hot day I didn't mind. After all, I am a golden retriever and supposed to like water. I think Bracha wanted to show me the river for a long time, but it had been too cold. She even says there is a place with lots more water in Nahariya – the sea - and when it's really hot we can go there and swim in the water together!

Suki's first encounter with the river was a great success, though there was not as much water as I thought there would be. It was enough for her to get wet and for me to verify that if she sees water, she will definitely go in.

Today I once again consulted with Ami regarding Suki's halts while walking. There are, I believe, instances in which Suki is truly afraid of something, as the fenced in yard with about eight dogs in it that she refuses to pass, the pecan tree with the birds, something on our road (the fire hydrant?) and various other things that I cannot identify. Other instances are simply, I believe, golden retriever stubbornness and the result of a smart dog who has a mind of her own and is attempting to manipulate things and get her own way: trying to turn to the pet store, the basketball court, or the train station.

If Suki is afraid of something, it is best to try and encourage her to go forward, using the clicker and a food reward when she agrees to go. If it's simply stubbornness, than she will not be given food when she agrees to go. This, I think, will simply encourage her to keep up the behavior and give her positive reinforcement for something I don't want her to do. Ami agrees. She'll get a good hard forward pull on the leash, and if nothing else, get pulled forward and made to go. I will not, however, try to get Suki to go past the barking dogs, as I think it's simply too much to ask of her. She is, after all, only a dog. There are plenty of other places where we can walk. She is eager to please: her favorite tasks are finding benches at the train station, seats at bus stops, the pole where you have to push the button to get the stoplight to work, and of course, ATM machines. And it took only two or three trips through the Carmel Beach bus station for Suki to remember that there was an escalator there and to make straight for it. She knows how to have fun and deserves it.    

Suki goes to First Grade!

Suki lying quietly in class. Notice how Suki's harness and the cane eerily reflect the flash from the camera, as they are equipped with reflectors for walking at night.

\Asking children to close their eyes and imagine a world in which they cannot see.


Walking among the children and giving them a chance to pet Suki from up close.


Working with Suki and giving commands among the tables and chairs

Demonstrating walking with a cane.


Suki was the star this morning in Rotem's first grade classroom. We entered the classroom to a chorus of shrieks and cries of "Suki, Suki!" and we finally managed to settle the kids down enough to begin the lesson. I felt it was important to make children understand what a guide dog is, how they are trained, how people who do not see can be more safe and independent, and to learn how to behave when they see a guide dog in the street.

I first asked the children to close their eyes and imagine how they would cross the street, go to the store and buy an ice cream, do homework, and keep from bumping into things and falling down if they could not see – even if they opened their eyes. I asked them to stretch out their hand and find what was in front of them. Then I showed them the various ways blind people get around. I showed them a cane and then, of course, Suki. In order to get the petting out of their system I walked Suki around the class on her leash and let them pet her. Then I put Suki's harness on and told them that she was now on the job, and walked around the classroom again, giving her commands to turn left and right, and asking them not to pet her or disturb her. The kids asked questions and were very interested. Suki then joined the kids outsode for a very noisy recess, and was a bit overwhelmed by the attention, the noise, and the constant petting, but I think she was a good ambassador for guide dogs at the school. She also performed on one of the makeshift games that were set up on the playground and walked up and down a bench that was placed at an angle and was leaning on a table, but I didn't allow her to jump off the table onto the mattresses like the kids were doing...

She must have found the morning more than a bit taxing, because as soon as we got on the train Suki crawled into the little doghouse space between the seats and I didn't even see her change positions until I woke her an hour and a half later as we approached Nahariya. At home she was taken out for a well-deserved run to release all that golden retriever energy, and then, of course, dinner. End of a long hard day.

Now, if I was a black Labrador...

I admit it. I've been very stubborn lately. I've pushed the limits a bit and sat down or stood in place whenever I don't feel like going somewhere. But Bracha is not letting me get away with it. She sat down next to my bed this afternoon and explained to me quietly that SHE is the boss around here, and that she will take me to the pet store and to the basketball court to run – but SHE will decide when. Not me. I guess she's right. But I am, as we were told, a golden retriever, and golden retrievers can be smart and stubborn.

But I was very good yesterday. The only thing I did wrong was to sit down in the street in Nahariya when we didn't turn right to go to the pet store and I refused to turn left. Naughy me. I di find a seat on the bus, located the machine that Bracha calls "Bank", and I even remembered to go to the pole where Bracha presses the button to make the stoplight work. We went on a long bus ride, and everyone on the way liked me and admired me, even the people in the clinic. There was one woman in the elevator who was afraid of me, but Bracha assured her that she would hold me close and that I didn't do anything bad, and I sat on the floor quietly, far away from those scary doors that close so fast.

It occurred to me as we got in the taxi to go home after shopping that I would have been a bit more acceptable to the driver had I been a black lab. You see, the nice new taxi had black upholstery, and when we got out the driver voiced his displeasure at some white doggie hairs on the side of the seat where I had been lying on the floor. Bracha offered to go in and get a brush from the house and clean up, and that made him a bit less grumpy. I hope he doesn't make problems taking more guide dogs in his taxi. I get brushed every day and we do our best, but I guess my hairs just float in the wind. Now, if I'd been a black Labrador retriever, he might not have minded the hairs so much. But then, I would not be as smart and stubborn as I am.

We've just learned that we have followers in Canada! Hi to you all. How's the snow?

A Three Dog Night!

The Aboriginies' idea of a cold night is a "three dog night" - a night that it's so cold you have to sleep with three dogs to keep warm! Last night was definitely a three dog night. The temperature dropped nearly to zero , and this evening even my furry dog Nuala, who usually refuses to sleep in the house, decided not to brave the elements and came indoors. Soon all three dogs were lying in various positions around the house: Nuala in her usual position lying on her back in my bedroom with all four legs in the air, Suki curled up on her bed, finally spent after a hard day's work and a run in the yard, and Saoirse sprawled in the warmest place by the fire trying to warm her old bones. OUtside the wind is howling and rain is on the horizon. Suki's fur seems to be growing thicker and wavier all the time. I hope it keeps her warm enough: today it seemed to be all she could do to walk into the fierce wind.

Suki is, however, quite willing to go out and play. She pulls her toys from her basket, scattering them around the house, and picks up her new homemade sock toy and waves it at me. "Quit typing and come out and play!" So we head for the field in back and she had a wonderful time chasing her toy in the tall grass.

Some vetrinary tips: Suki was checked over by the vet and was declared flee-free, but the vet felt I was doing the right thing by not sufficing with monthly ampules againwst fleas, but also a spray once in a while. She's a working dog and should not have any distractions.

Be careful when bathing dogs or getting them wet in the winter! Petel, Liron's dog, had a case of "cold tail" - a syndrome in which the dog's tail becomes stiff and sore from exposure to water or cold. Petel is fine now and marching with Liron down the main street in Tel Aviv, Shaul HaMelech. Labrador retrievers are particularly susceptable to this condition, which is common in hunting dogs who retrieve game from cold ponds in the winter. Brrrrrrrrrrrr...

Now the next problem to solve: How to teach Suki to pick up her toys...
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Today's Hike through the Fields

Suki is too tired to write, and has retired to her bed where she is now sleeping with her favorite toy beside her. We took advantage of the cold but clear weather and hiked and ran through the fields off leash and out of harness for a couple of hours today. These pictures were taken before she got into a mud puddle!

Dog Cold!

Boy, am I glad I have fur! In fact, I think I could sometimes use a little more. It's very cold outside and I could tell Bracha was not too pleased at having to take me out at 6:00 this morning. It was cold and barely light, and she took off her bright red boots and crawled right back into bed again.

But we did get out, and the wind made my ears fly as we walked and blew through my fur. Bracha made me a new toy: a couple of tennis balls inside an old sock, and I had a great time chasing it outside. Who needs expensive toys? These homemade toys, or even an old plastic bottle, make me just as happy.


I've learned to pull them out of my basket where all my bones, my kong, and other toys are kept. Now Bracha says I have to learn to put my toys away and not just take them out. We'll have to work on that.

It is February 5th. Suki has been at home with me for three months! It is hard to believe, but I think we are well on the way to successfully working together.

Here is an ad from Beit Oved for a new dog trainer. People who train guide dogs and teach people to work with them require a wide variety of traits:
. If you believe that endless patience brings immediate results – your place is with us! The Israeli Center for Guide Dogs for the Blind is looking for a new trainer and mobility teacher.
Teachers of mobility using guide dogs are responsible for the following:
- Training guide dogs until they are ready to work independently with a blind person.. Teaching blind people to work with and care for their dogs in courses conducted in the center, or individually at home.
- Accompanying the blind person and their dog, offering professional assistance and home care.
Participating in the process of assessing candidates for receiving guide dogs and evaluating dogs suitable for training..
Taking part in public relations activities for increasing awareness of the use of guide dogs and other tasks performed by the staff..
Qualifications:
Candidates must be under 30 years of age with an academic degree.
. Candidates must be in excellent physical condition and be able to walk strenuously for many hours in all types of weather conditions.
Candidates must be prepared to work long hours under pressure, and to work on weekends..
Personal maturity and ability to cope with sensitive and complex situations..
Excellent work ethics and ability to work independently, self motivation..
Ability to control large dogs
Problem-solving ability, initiative, and ability to improvise..
Ability to organize and conduct training.
Ability to work in a team and excellent human relations.
Ability to cope with pressure and burnout.
Ability to guide others, and to make public appearances.
Good written and oral communication skills.
Driver's license.

I would say guide dog owners need just as many traits, too. but it's late. We'll get to that another time.

Dark Clouds on the Horizon

Anyone who thinkgs that it's rough being cooped up with small children in the house in inclement weather should try doing it with a rambunctious, two year old golden retriever. The constant clatter of Suki's bone being dropped on the floor, alternating with dashing around the room, made me realize this dog needed to get out!

I could hardly blame her. Suki had spent the previous day learning a new route to Itai and Hilla's house and traveling all day on taxis, cars, trains, and busses, so she was badly in need of a good hard run to release pent up energy and tension. However, dark clouds were looming on the horizon, so I dared not stray too far. There was a cold wind blowing that made Suki skittery, and occasionally a cold rain began to fall, but we managed to get out into the back yard for a run and break up the boredom. Suki was good and ran on the grassy area between the sheds, and for once, did not insist upon running into the avocado orchard and picking up fruit to eat, a habit which has forced me to catch her and put her leash back on every time. She was happy chasing sticks and running around letting off steam.

Suki now knows the route to my daughter's house, my son's house, and Rotem's school, and is at home on busses, taxis, and trains. She's turning into a real traveler.

I was glad last evening to get on the train and stretch out on the rug and go to sleep. It had been a long day: We went to see the Emma again, this time by bus. We found the right stop in the terminal, and when we got on the driver asked a woman to give us the front seat, but a woman was sitting there and didn't want to get up. I could tell the driver was angry at her, but Bracha just said, "Suki, kadima, kisay," and we found another seat.

The Emma just lay in Bracha's arms and slept for most of the visit. Once in a while she did open her eyes and look around, and make little sounds, but she can't even walk in a straight line - something any beginning guide dog can do! So right now she's not too exciting, at least not to me! But she makes Bracha happy. Then we went to Tel Aviv on the train, and I finally got fed and Bracha told me to go to Rotem. I pulled like mad on the harness, because I like the children at Rotem's school and I know how to whisk us right through the gate and down the stairs to the schoolyard. And Bracha has promised that next week we are going to go to school and stay in the classroom, and Bracha will give all the children a lesson all about me, how I was trained, and how I work! I'll be the star of the show! (you know I am usually quite modest, and whenever someone says I am pretty, I usually nonchalantly sit down and start scratching my ear, or just stand there wagging my tail and smiling).