"I don't take Guide Dogs!"

Since I was reluctant to leave Suki home alone for over three hours last night, I decided to take her to a lecture at a neighboring kibbutz on the Hebrew language. (I subscribed to a series of 15 lectures before I left for Beit Oved). Suki behaved beautifully, sleeping through the first part of the lecture under my seat. She as, however, much more attentive during the second part when the lecturer spoke about different words form the Biblical period and the Middle ages. I guess she found the Aramaic texts in the first part a bit too much…

All in all it was a successful day that included the entire spectrum of how people relate to guide dogs. We set out in the morning, braved the crossing at the hospital, and boarded a bus for Nahariya with an extremely pleasant driver who asked if I needed help getting off. From there we continued on to my accountant’s office, where ASuki was admired by all, accepted a drink of water, and politely refused a cookie offered by my accountant. (Petting is permitted and will be happily accepted – cookies are not. Please don’t feed her!) From there we proceeded on to the drug store, the post office, the bank, and of course, Aroma, where the waitress delivered my coffee to the table. (It’s usually self-service).

Suki worked beautifully and things went well. We ended up in the pet store where she was offered a dog biscuit that I asked to give her myself.

On the other end of the spectrum, (no day can be perfect) I arrived at the taxi station with my knapsack, a bag filled with goldfish, and a dog. There were no taxis, so I stood outside to wait. When a taxi finally showed up, driven by a certain Benny, the dispatcher told him to take the next client, who was me. Benny refused.

“I don’t take dogs!”

“I’m sorry, but according to the law guide dogs are permitted in taxis,” I said quietly.

“I said I don’t take dogs.”

By this time I was simply prepared to wait for the next driver, but the dispatcher was determined to have it out. “You are obligated by law to take a guide dog.”

As the tone of the argument became higher, Benny, intent on having his way, produced his cellphone and declared that he had another passenger waiting at the train station, and dramatically did something to make his phone ring. Staging a conversation, he was gone faster than a Katyusha could fly. The dispatcher wrote the driver’s name and number down on a piece of paper and handed it to me, demanding I report the driver the Ministry of Transportation, and another driver collected me, helped Suki, the goldfish, and me into the cab, and we returned home to fax a letter.

After that morning of hard work in Nahariya and exceptionally good behavior, I decided that Suki deserved a good run, and took her to the basketball court for the first time. Locking both gates, I took off Suki’s harness, put on her collar, and removed her leash and chain. She sat there for a moment, not quite comprehending that for the first time since she had run on the sand dunes in Yavneh, she was free to run. And that was what she did for the next fifteen minutes, stopping occasionally when I blew the whistle to come back to me. Definitely a new stage has been reached, but we’re not ready to run free in the open fields just yet. .