THE LIFE OF THE GUIDE

Devilish eyes and impish grin,
A heart that's full of vigor and vim,
A shape that's always changing size,
Devilish grin and impish eyes,
Running races from tree to tree,
This is the life of the Guide-to-be.
Serious eyes and solemn smile,
Chances to stop and think for awhile,
Harness tugging and waving hands,
Getting used to the noise of bands,
Trying and learning and waiting awhile,
This is the life of the Guide on trial.
Watchful eyes and confident smile,
Ready to go another mile,
Devoted to man as a dog can be,
Providing a way for the man to see,
Ever alert and right by his side,
This is the life of the blind man's Guide.
Soulful eyes and satisfied smile,
But ready to stop and rest awhile,
Still devoted with heart unchanged,
Although the pattern is rearranged,
Still craving his place by his master's side,
This is the life of the Guide retired.
Slumbering eyes and contented grin,
Dreaming about what once had been,
An expression that tells of years now past,
A model of patience in stone is cast,
Eyes that still strain to follow the path,
This is the Guide at rest in death.

Sentry Of The Sky
(From our four-legged angel Misty Blue to Luci when they reunited
at Rainbow Bridge. Put into words by their mom, Terri Onorato.)
I napped atop my favorite cloud
sunlight warm upon my face
but woke to find myself at rest
outside the holy gate.
I looked to the horizon
far beyond the brilliant light
and stood in awe and disbelief
as your shadow came in sight.
Your steps were quite uncertain
as you walked the golden path,
not sure where you were going
or if perhaps you should turn back.
I could feel immense excitement
from within the holy gates
and as angels hovered closely
you increased your timid pace.
In an instant you were with me
nudging kisses on my neck
and I couldn't wag my tail enough
to express my happiness.
I must admit I was amazed
to see you here today
and I'm sure surprise was also yours
as you traveled to this place.
Fear not my sweet Bridge sister
do not hesitate or cry
you've come to be an angel now,
a sentry of the sky.
Follow me without fear
through the gates of white and gold
for beyond this spot your brand new life
is waiting to unfold.
I know that mom and dad and friends
miss you terribly,
we'll guide them with a gentle paw
in our quest to bring them peace.
Come with me my sister,
spread your wings and fly,
for you've come to be an angel now,
a sentry of the sky.

the incredible, amazing, fantastic, exhausting, exasperating and exhilarating journey

otherwise known as guide dog training!

Jenine McKeown

The day it began, you may not recall,
it was the day you said
"I'm fed up with it all!"
You'd struggled and fumbled
and sworn out in pain,
as you swung and you tapped and maneuvered your cane.
Or maybe you held fast to your sighted friends' arm,
feeling certain they'd guide you, safe from all harm.
their intentions were good,
they tried, and what's more,
it wasn't their fault you ran into that door.
They forgot to say whether steps led up
or led down,
and didn't quite appreciate your disgruntled frown.
You couldn't quite yell,
though you wanted to scream,
but then you'd realized just how bitter you'd seem.
Stabbing your side
as your cane caught a crack,
or running full speed into somebody's back,
the only way out of
this muddlesome, fuddlesome fog
came in the person of a creature known as a guide dog.
To some it was guide dog,
to others, dog guide.
Regardless, this canine would open doors wide!
You'd heard about guide dogs,
maybe even seen a few.
Their countless adventures you already knew.
You'd read of how buddy led Morris Frank's way,
tales of endless devotion,
"wonder dogs" saving the day.
So now it was time
to think hard and think long
could you handle the training, could you remain strong?
For you'd talked to some people
who'd told you about
the riggers of working a dog, day in and day out.
They'd said there'd be tests,
and it would be tough,
but the freedom and pride were reward enough.
Now it was time
to decide where to go.
east coast, west coast or mid west, you'd know,
Just which of the many schools
was right for you,
once you'd talked to the staff and a graduate or two.
Your hand on the receiver,
your nerves quite on edge,
you'd made that phone call and jumped off a ledge,
Into a world of awaiting
and watching the mail
for your application to arrive without fail.
Once those papers found you,
the real fun began.
There were questions and details and visits to plan.
First you'd seen your doctor,
turned your head and cough,
gathered references, reports, then the dreaded mass was off!
You'd been sure every paper'd been scrutinized and signed.
Yet something was missing.
now you were feeling maligned.
Once the snafu had been cleared,
the days turned to weeks,
while your anxiety and impatience went in valleys and peaks!
When would they call you!
just when would you know!
This was growing ridiculous! you just wanted to go!
Then came the day
and the call on the phone.
your plane tickets arrived, you were off on your own.
Or maybe your family drove you
right up to the door,
Whatever the case, they weren't there anymore.
You stood in this new place,
feeling quite blind,
hoping someone would show you the things that you needed to find.
Then came that moment
you'd secretly feared.
With a smile and a handshake, your trainer appeared.
Maybe it was a woman,
or "she" was a "he",
Which ever the case, that person could see.
Could he tell you were nervous,
Did she know you were scared,
as you chatted quite normally about how you had fared.
Taking your luggage,
your trainer explained
the layout of the building; apprehension remained.
There were hallways and doorways
and furniture about,
steps up or steps down and at least 500 ways out.
Just when all those directions
were dissolving to doom,
the trainer opened a door and said "here is your room."
You were left to explore
every dresser and shelf.
Two beds soon confirmed you might not be by yourself.
As you thought *about this,
more students had come.
you wondered, who were they? where did they come from?
the instructions your trainer
had given to you
were being repeated, first to one and then two.
the building was filling
with people and sound,
a happy confusion that rang all around.
your roommate arrived
with much luggage in tow
and you found yourself babbling; there was so much to know.
it turned out that
your roommate had been here before.
this was the third time "he" or "she" had come through that door.
your trainer appeared,
from out of nowhere
and said "come with me you 2 and leave your canes there."
"leave my what?"
you heard yourself say in alarm.
caneless, you were certain to run into harm.
your roommate was laughing.
wait! this wasn't a joke!
"put your hand out." the trainer's voice patiently spoke.
for the next hour or so
you trailed walls with one hand.
your feet too told you things about the lay of the land.
had you learned to move like this
when first using your cane,
you might have avoided countless episodes of pain.
the first meal was heralded
with a very loud bell.
a seat was assigned you, no switching, "oh swell."
over the course of the evening,
the trainer told you
there were set times and ways for most everything they'd do.
wait! was this the army?
or elementary school?
you were an adult but at this point you felt like a fool.
"trust me, you get used to it."
your roommate assured,
as later that night you both quietly conferred.
six a. m. came early
that next fateful day.
now began the real work! you'd soon be on your way!
with a lecture
about something called a Juneau walk,
the trainers quieted the class's excitable talk.
dawning some sort
of a harness contraption,
the trainer summoned you first for the action.
"hold the harness like this
and the leash just like that."
"try to keep your balance wherever you're at."
the trainer took off
at a very good pace
leaving your head and your feet in a quite different space.
at first the movement
seemed totally wrong
you tilted to one side or your strides were too long.
the trainer walked faster,
and then very slow.
you swerved and you turned, first you'd stop, then you'd go.
just when you'd gotten the pace
down to a tee,
the trainer uttered the odd phrase "now correct me."
a correction, they'd told you,
was a pull on the leash
"make it hard, make it quick then be sure to release."
so you gave the correction
the way you thought best
and wondered if killing your trainer meant passing the test.
"that walk helps us choose
just the right dog for you."
the trainer assured, and you figured he or She knew.
the rest of the morning
passed slowly enough
as the rest of the class did their Juneau walk stuff.
the afternoon's interview
told the trainers much more,
where you lived, how you traveled, stuff you'd told them before.
you could hear them making notes
from which to refer,
then they asked you "what kind of dog do you prefer?"
female or male,
and what type of breed,
did you want a large dog or one built for speed?
now how were you supposed to know
what kind of dog
could best get you through all the miles you'd log?
you stammered some answer
you don't really recall,
then made your way nervously back down the hall.
what if they gave you
exactly what you'd asked for?
and it wasn't the right dog? you didn't know anymore!
the tension was mounting
through the rest of the night
speculation and guessing, which dog would be right.
for hours you and your roommate
lie there wide awake
discussing and pondering "oh, give me a break!"
you couldn't remember just when
but you knew you had dreamed
about labs, goldens and shepherds, for hours it seemed.
finally morning had come
and more walking'd begun,
an adjustment, a short conference, and the trainers were done.
the entire class sat
very still, not a sound,
the anxiety was thicker than mud all around.
you were positive dogs
had just seised to exist,
then the head trainer pulled out that most magical list.
each person was matched
with a sex and a breed,
then a name, some of which sounded quite silly indeed.
you found you were lucky;
you liked your dog's name,
the breed and the sex you'd asked for were the same.
comparing notes with your classmates,
one question was clear,
"just tell us, when will the canines be here!"
then you sat in your room
simply wringing your hands
while the time ticked by like those hour glass sands.
soon a jingling sound
could be heard at the door
and a prancing of dog's toe nails came over the floor.
there was licking and wagging
and nosing about
as your new canine partner began checking you out.
at first the beast
felt very odd to the touch,
for it wiggled and slobbered and sniffed you too much,
but it finally settled
at your feet in a heap,
deciding you were now boring and going to sleep.
you were certain your dog
was the most beautiful ever,
and hoped it was also the most skillful and clever.
that dog must be with you
wherever you go
your constant companion, the trainer said so.
soon you learned
that most natural routine,
walk outside and stand there surveying the scene.
some dogs would circle
and some dogs would dance,
finally doing their business to return with a prance.
the trainer explained
just the right thing to do,
"praise that dog!" for number 1 and number 2!
then came that inevitable,
unfortunate ordeal,
your "wonder dog" would accompany you to a meal.
There was pushing and shoving
and scooting about,
the mutt would go "down and under" then squirm half way out.
at last it lay quiet,
now you could relax,
till just 3 seconds later it was licking your slacks!
"this is really not working."
you tried to implore,
imagining this scene on a restaurant floor.
that dreaded meal was soon enough over;
it was time to get going,
as you climbed in the van, all your nervousness showing.
you were gently reminded
"that dog's still a bit of a pup."
as you struggled and fumbled to "harness him up."
for some of us, that first walk
is natural and smooth,
while for others it is pure terror simply to move.
but you conquered your fear
and found a comfortable stride
it seemed very natural, this dog at your side.
the following days were
mostly the same,
getting on and off vans, trainers calling your name.
soon you felt every muscle,
every swelling and ache
and you were sure you'd made every possible mistake.
"hold your head up! Walk straight!
What's up with your hand?"
the trainer's comments were endless. "don't ask that dog! Command!"
There were days when the canine
did everything wrong
and you fumbled and blundered and wondered how long,
how many more hours,
how many routes left to roam,
till this whole mess was over and you both could go home.
one day toward the end
still sticks out in your mind;
the whole place was grouchy, not one word was kind.
people were surly
and cranky and stuff,
while dogs acted up and you'd all had enough!
that day behind you,
the rest seemed to race,
with photos and health checks, and the real world to face.
one more walk was left,
each of you alone,
just you and your dog, out there on your own.
you'd been over the route
with the trainer right there,
your dog sensed you were nervous, but did that trainer care?
you could get hopelessly lost,
or, if worse came to worst,
become a fatality, surely not this school's first,
but in spite of your fear
and your dog's lunatic ways,
you ran the route smoothly, you both conquered the maze.
all tests had been passed,
you'd been issued your gear,
it was time now for getting the heck out of here!
despite your relief,
there was a sad attitude
as you said your goodbyes and expressed gratitude,
to the raisers, the trainers,
the staff and the board,
for your new found independence, no one could be ignored.
as you climbed into a plane
or sped off in a car,
you and your guide dog were bound to go far.
those first weeks were tough
when you finally got home,
the dog wasn't perfect, you'd get lost when you'd roam.
no trainer was there
with a comforting word
or a gentle reminder when you were being absurd.
but then came the day
you will always recall,
maybe you crossed a busy highway or traversed a huge mall.
it was you and your dog,
working like one, a real team,
confident, proud, fulfilling a dream.
years would pass as they will
with adventures and then,
one day you would know you must do it again.
your first dog never forgotten,
you returned to the school,
laughing at those old feelings, yes, you had been a fool!
for now you were the one
who knew what was in store
and could tell that first-timeer behind the room door.
"sure there'll be days
full of peril and strife,
but don't miss it! This will be the ride of your life!"

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