                       THE BRAILLE MONITOR

                          October, 1995

                     Barbara Pierce, Editor


     Published in inkprint, Braille, on talking-book disc, 
                        and cassette by 


              THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND 
                     MARC MAURER, PRESIDENT 
 


                         National Office
                       1800 Johnson Street
                   Baltimore, Maryland 21230 

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                National Federation of the Blind
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                   Baltimore, Maryland 21230 

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THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND IS NOT AN ORGANIZATION
SPEAKING FOR THE BLIND--IT IS THE BLIND SPEAKING FOR THEMSELVES



ISSN 0006-8829THE BRAILLE MONITOR
PUBLICATION OF THE NATIONAL FEDERATION OF THE BLIND

                            CONTENTS

                                                    OCTOBER, 1995

REFLECTIONS ON TRAVEL, INDEPENDENCE, AND BLINDNESS
     by Kenneth Jernigan

FUNDRAISING MATERIAL FROM THE GUIDE DOG FOUNDATION 
FOR THE BLIND, INC.

THE PROBLEMS PEOPLE ARE AFRAID TO DISCUSS
     by Doug Elliott

BILL ISAACS RESPONDS TO DOUG ELLIOTT

PAUL GABIAS RESPONDS TO DOUG ELLIOTT

ON CANES, CANINES, AND THE NFB
     by Ed and Toni Eames

GUIDE DOGS AND NFB CONVENTIONS
     by Bill J. Isaacs

AN OPEN LETTER TO PAUL GABIAS AND BILL ISAACS
     by Doug Elliott

BATTLE OF THE DOGS, OR GOTTA QUIT KICKIN' MY DOG AROUND
     by Dr. Elizabeth J. Browne

THE NATURE OF THE CHOICE
     by Floyd Matson

THE TRUE NATURE OF SELF-CONFIDENCE
     by Scott LaBarre

REFLECTIONS ON INDEPENDENCE AND MY DOG GUIDE
     by Richard Fox

INDEPENDENCE AND DOGS
     by Ramona Walhof

WHY I USE A GUIDE DOG
     by Ed Meskys

ABOUT THE GUIDE DOG ISSUE
     by Diane McGeorge

DOG GUIDE AGREEMENT?
     by Eugenia Firth

PERSPECTIVES ON DOG GUIDES
     by Bill Reif

WHERE IS THE MAGIC?
     by Steve Benson

DOGS TOURING BREWERY
     by Paul Gabias

PRINCE, A DOG'S TALE
     by Bill J. Isaacs

IN SEARCH OF INDEPENDENT TRAVEL
     by Gary Wunder

        Copyright  1995 National Federation of the Blind
[LEAD PHOTO: People and their guide dogs are standing around a
registration table.  Three dogs are prominently featured. Caption:
At the 1990 National Federation of the Blind Convention, people
register for the meeting of the National Association of Guide Dog
Users.]

[Photo #1 Dr. Jernigan at a microphone.  Caption: Kenneth Jernigan]
 
       REFLECTIONS ON TRAVEL, INDEPENDENCE, AND BLINDNESS
                       by Kenneth Jernigan

     As will be seen from the table of contents, this month's Monitor is taken
up entirely with questions concerning mobility--and, for the most part, questions
concerning guide dogs and canes. Very rarely do we devote an entire issue of
the Monitor to a single topic. When we do, the subject has to merit it, and this
one does.
     In fact, it is of such lively and current interest that I have come out of
mothballs to resume the editor's chair to deal with it. I hasten to add that I am
here for only one month and that I may never do it again. On the other hand, of
course, I might--but certainly not very often.
     It is not that Barbara Pierce has come short as Editor. Far from it. She has
done, and continues to do, an excellent job; but as Federationists know, I often
find myself (some say I like it) dealing with touchy issues. Perhaps that would
be sufficient explanation for my brief return to the Editor's chair, or maybe the
reason is that so many Federationists have talked with me about the subject of
canes and dogs that I want to bring the opinions together into a meaningful
picture. Regardless of the reason, here I am in the Editor's chair again--so let's
get to it and talk about the subject at hand.
     You will observe that this issue of the Monitor contains twenty-one articles
and that some of them are lengthy. This follows our long-standing practice of
letting the needs of the subject decide the number of pages instead of the other
way around. No question that we have ever discussed has had more far-
reaching and subtle implications than this one, and none has ever been more
emotionally charged or more likely to cause controversy. Therefore, we are
printing every article we have received, and with very little editing. I profoundly
disagree with some of the views expressed, and I have mixed feelings about
others--but I have included them all. The reason is simple. We are not just
talking about methods of travel but about basic philosophy. Moreover, even
though we didn't plan it that way, we have, by discussing this issue in these
circumstances, arrived at a crossroads in our organization's development.
Whatever the appearance or trappings, we are not here just (or even primarily)
talking about canes and dogs. We are considering self-image, concepts of
independence, equal participation in society, and the very notion of first-class
citizenship.
     The timeliness and importance of this topic can be seen from the range
and number of people who have written about it for this issue of the Monitor.
They come from every part of the country and every level of the Federation.
There are National Board Members, presidents of divisions, state presidents,
former state presidents, state and local officers, and rank-and-file members.
There are college professors, writers, people working in various professions and
callings, and those who have moved from one job to another. Ordinarily we give
biographical and other identifying data about our authors, but in the present
case we are changing the rule. The authors are identified only by name and by
what they say, nothing more. Whether you know some or all of them shouldn't
matter. What they say is what counts, not who they are or what credentials they
have.
     Although these authors are writing individually, they are doing much more
than that. They are representing differing shades of Federation opinion, widely
held views. Each of them in his or her own way is an archetype, not just a
person. Each contributes to the final blend and the ultimate premise. This is the
Federation in symposium--speaking with its collective voice: to the world at
large, to the rest of the blindness community, to each other, and to itself. And
when the day is done, the body of the Federation (the great rank and file of the
membership) will give the decision. The decision will not be formally made or
reduced to writing, but it will be nonetheless far-reaching and determinative. It
will be manifest in mind and heart, in act and deed. This is the monumental task
we have set for ourselves--to sort out our feelings about mobility and self-worth
and to test those feelings against our philosophy--to decide what we believe,
what we want to do, and how we should do it.
     Before I talk about my own views about mobility, I have to clear up a
misunderstanding. In his first article (he has three in this issue) Bill Isaacs says:
"I have heard Dr. Jernigan say that the model blind person is the person who
uses a white cane." I don't remember saying this, and certainly it does not
represent my opinion. I don't know that there is a "model blind person" since
each of us is an individual with hundreds of characteristics. My views about
travel are more complicated than that alleged statement implies.
     As I see it, there are seven ways in which a blind person may deal with
travel:

     1. Don't do it at all
     2. Use a cane
     3. Use a dog
     4. Use a sighted person's arm
     5. Use one or another of the new electronic devices that are  being
     developed
     6. Travel without using any of the foregoing methods
     7. Use a combination of the foregoing methods

     Each of these approaches has both advantages and drawbacks. In fact,
any form of travel by anybody (blind and sighted alike) poses problems. If the
sighted person wants to go from New York to California, or even three blocks
down the street, he or she faces inconvenience--the expense of buying a ticket,
the time spent, traffic noise, weather conditions, and disruption of schedule. The
fact that we don't think of it that way shows how universal the problem is. Most
of us don't spend much time thinking about dying either, but it certainly is an
inconvenience.
     As to the blind, there are added problems in travel. The most convenient
way to do it, of course, would be to have perfect eyesight, but for most of us
that is impossible. Therefore, we find alternative techniques, and manage quite
nicely--but this does not mean that we should pretend that sight would not be
helpful. It would.
     Let me move to the next level of the subject and discuss the seven
methods of dealing with travel that I have identified:

     1. Don't do it at all. Some people try as hard as they can to follow this
practice, but it is the least effective way to handle the matter. I can think of no
advantages to it. It isn't even safe, and you certainly can't claim that it doesn't
inconvenience others. Forget it. It won't work.

     2. Use a cane. It has both advantages and disadvantages. (Incidentally,
when I use the word "advantage," I don't necessarily mean perfect but simply
better than something else.) When you are walking somewhere using a cane,
low-hanging branches or protruding objects at shoulder-height or above cannot
be detected, and you may bump your head. This is a distinct disadvantage. I am
told that a guide dog will help you avoid such objects, and certainly an
observant sighted person will. The cane has the advantage of being inexpensive,
not requiring ongoing maintenance, not causing embarrassment or
inconvenience to others, not requiring so much of your time and attention that it
becomes a major focus of your emotions and life, and of being a thoroughly
workable and efficient travel tool. It cannot tell you where you are going, cannot
talk to you, and cannot read signs for you.

     3. Use a dog. As I see it, the dog has a few advantages and many
disadvantages, some so overwhelming as to create almost insurmountable
obstacles to equal participation and first-class citizenship in society. As I have
already said, the dog can help you avoid overhanging objects. When you are
crossing a large and unfamiliar room, the dog may be able to help you find a
door on the other side more quickly than a cane, and it may help you retrace
your steps on a familiar route more easily than a cane--or (depending on the
person and the circumstances) it may not.
     As to the claim that the guide dog allows the blind person to walk more
quickly than if he or she were using a cane, my observation is that this is
generally not the case. Sometimes yes--sometimes no. It depends on the
person, the dog, and the length of the cane. With respect to the notion that the
dog is a social "ice breaker," that it provides companionship, and that it meets
emotional needs, I find these to be distinct disadvantages, not pluses.
     But the real disadvantage in using a dog is the inconvenience and
expense it causes to others. If you use a cane, you may travel poorly or well, but
you are not harming or causing expense to your friends and associates. This
cannot be said of the dog. There is no way that the dog user can help causing
problems to other people.
     Since the dog user's friends and even chance acquaintances engage in an
unspoken conspiracy of silence (no, worse--effusive lies) to save the dog user's
feelings, I am convinced that almost no dog user fully understands the social
consequences of using a dog--the discomfort to others, the damaged property,
and the feelings of pity. Let me give you an example.
     I have firsthand knowledge of a situation in which a blind person using a
dog visited the home of a close friend, where there were highly polished
wooden floors. The dog's toenails caused deep scratches, and the floors had to
be refinished at a cost of several hundred dollars. The dog user was never told
by his friend, nor did the friend let others know or complain. Yet, consider the
implications.
     I hope that no one reading this will try to duck the issue by suggesting
that what I have said didn't happen. It did. I also hope that no one will say that
the homeowner in question doesn't like dogs or doesn't like the person who
used the dog. Neither is the truth. In fact, the homeowner is extremely fond of
the dog user, was more concerned that the dog user might learn of the situation
and be embarrassed than that the floors had to be refinished at considerable
cost, and would undoubtedly have vehemently denied that the situation occurred
if cornered and questioned about it.
     Here is another instance. At a recent NFB convention, a guide-dog user
was sitting at a table near the platform during the banquet. He is competent and
controls his dog well, but the dog (whether because of the stress of the crowd,
or for some other reason) became sick just as the banquet was getting started.
The people at the table had to get up; the table had to be moved; the smell, as it
mingled with the odor of the banquet food, was (to use the mildest possible
term) unappetizing; and everybody in the vicinity was, to say the least,
inconvenienced. Even if one assumes (and this is certainly debatable) that the
dog enabled the blind person to travel more efficiently than a cane would have,
the question of price and cost/benefit ratio must still be dealt with.
     Regardless of what view one may hold, it simply does no good to deny
that these situations exist or to deal with them with anger. The problem is
complex. It has a life of its own, and the only way to handle it is with kindness
and compassion but also with honesty and candor. It is not just the dog user or
the cane user who is affected. All of us are.
     There is still more. As indicated in the article by Ed and Toni Eames, the
blind person who uses a dog chooses (whether knowingly or not) to take on
fights and overcome obstacles which would not otherwise be encountered. Jobs
are harder to get; restaurants object; and various businesses and places of
entertainment don't want to permit the dog to enter. The list is endless. As I see
it, I am forced to take on the battles necessitated by my blindness. Otherwise, I
will be denied the rights of full citizenship and equal participation in society. But
I do not have to take on the extra battles and controversies occasioned by using
a dog since I can easily avoid them by using another travel method--one that I
think is superior in the first place. I don't see any point in fighting just because I
can, or for the abstract principle or pleasure of it.
     Some of the arguments made by the advocates of guide-dog use strike
me as unpersuasive. Consider, for instance, the letter (reprinted later in this
issue) by Paul Gabias to the brewery. In it he says as an argument as to why the
brewery should not exclude guide dogs from touring its facilities:

     A couple of weeks ago, my two-year-old son threw up all over me and the restaurant
     booth. Do we exclude children from restaurants because of these occasional
     misadventures? No, we certainly do not because we are not willing to endure the price of
     excluding our children. As a society, we are more than willing to deal with the occasional
     inconveniences posed by our children.

     I think this is a faulty analogy. Children are humans. Restaurants operate
for the benefit of humans and, in fact, cannot exist unless humans visit them.
Dogs are not human, and breweries do not exist for dogs. Breweries can exist
quite well if no dogs ever visit them--and, for that matter, maybe even if no
humans ever visit them for the purpose of taking tours. If we can't avoid it, we
are willing to permit our children to vomit on us because they are our children.
We are even willing (again, if we can't avoid it) for other people's children to
vomit on us occasionally because they are human. But dogs are not human, and
most of us (including me) are not willing for a dog to vomit on us.
     This brings me to something else. One of the arguments made for using a
dog is the centrality which the dog has in the life of its owner, the almost-
mystical emotional bond between them. I am personally fond of dogs. I had a
dog when I was growing up, and I loved it dearly--but our relationship was not
mystical, nor was it the central focus of my life. My dog was a dog, a pet.
     While we are on the subject of such things, there is nothing mystical or
emotionally satisfying about my cane. It is a straightforward travel tool, and I like
it that way. When I want companionship, I prefer to have a choice about it, and
to be able to make that choice on an immediate and a changing basis.
Sometimes I prefer not to have companionship at all. All of these alternatives are
open to me if I use a cane. They are not if I use a dog.
     I fully understand and thoroughly respect the fact that others may feel
differently, but the mystical and emotional bond with the dog is not for me. I
refer to such things as the following comments in the second article by Bill
Isaacs. He says:

     No matter how close a member of the family or a friend might be to your guide dog, that
     person cannot possibly understand all the little nuances which pass back and forth
     between the owner and his dog.

     Regarding a trip which he took without his dog, he says:

     By the end of the first week she had stopped eating. By the end of the second week she
     was becoming ill. By the end of the third week I had to give up my trip and return home
     early.

     While we are on the subject of this second article by Bill Isaacs, let me
say that some of his statements about NFB conventions require comment. He
says that he has heard that some frustrated dogs have torn up beds at the
convention, and he mentions certain accidents which have occurred. He says:

     At a recent convention my wife noticed three or four dogs had relieved themselves on the
     carpet while their owners were in a breakfast line-up.

     This is what Bill Isaacs says, and I ask you to think about it carefully. The
fact that neither he nor the rest of us finds such a situation absolutely shocking
and unacceptable shows, as perhaps nothing else can, how far we have strayed
from the reality of present-day society's accepted norms. It is almost
unbelievable that anyone would seriously argue that three or four piles of dog
mess on the carpet in a breakfast line is anything other than totally intolerable,
something that would ordinarily occasion strong and immediate corrective
action--unless, of course, the perpetrator is regarded with pity and felt to be
unable to function as a fully responsible and equal adult.
     Let me be perfectly clear about what I am saying. Mr. Isaacs does not
sanction this behavior, but he says that it happened and that the dog owners in
question may not even have known about it. He goes on to argue that those who
bring their dogs to conventions should not have to pay any of the costs of
clean-up. If dogs are really like children and if parents are expected to pay for
child care, surely the expenses of the dog (which are greater than those of child
care) might reasonably be expected to be borne by the owner. In arguing that
the hotel should be willing to pay these costs, Mr. Isaacs says: 

     After all, I would guesstimate that the hotel makes a million dollars or so from one of our
     conventions. They could afford it.

     This is not the way it is. If we use between seven and eight thousand
room-nights during an NFB convention (and we do), and if the hotel receives an
average of fifty dollars per room-night (usually they get less), this would mean
that the hotel would get a maximum of $400,000 from the sale of hotel rooms.
From this amount, expenses of maids and other staff, as well as soap and
cleaning supplies and laundry and other things, must be deducted. If the hotel
gets fifty thousand dollars for the banquet, it must deduct the cost of food and
servers and preparation and clean-up. Then there is the question of how much
food we buy at the hotel restaurants or from room service or special events.
Many people eat most of their meals outside of the hotel. Others eat snacks or
bring food from home to eat in their rooms. Many eat on a very low budget
when they do buy from the hotel. My best estimates are that we spend not more
than $150,000 on food from the hotel. From this amount the hotel must pay the
cost of food, the cost of servers, the cost of linen and dishes and silverware,
and the cost of clean-up.
     I have negotiated our convention contracts with hotels since 1952, and I
think I am in a position to know what profit the hotels make. Taking into account
all of the costs I have mentioned (plus overhead, mortgages, real-estate taxes,
management, security, renovation, new furniture, and other things), I think the
hotels often do little better than break even on our business.
     The question then arises as to why they do it. The answer is part of the
regular argument I use in negotiating. We book our conventions when the hotels
have low occupancy. It costs a hotel a great deal of money to be empty. There
are ongoing, fixed expenses. If you were a hotel manager, and if I offered you a
deal whereby you could fill almost every room but you would lose a dollar a day
on each room, would you prefer to do that or to have your hotel more than half
empty and lose ten dollars a day on each room? Negotiating for hotels is a
game of chicken. If I am negotiating two years prior to a convention, the hotel
may get much more profitable business (something closer to its regular rates) if
it turns down my offer and waits. On the other hand, if nothing comes, then it
would have done better to say yes. The same is true of me. If I do not accept
what the hotel offers, I may find something better a little later. But as the time for
the convention draws closer, the pressure on me increases. If I misjudge and
wait too long, the consequences will be disastrous, not just for me but for
everybody else who goes to the convention. Yes, I know what the hotels make,
and it isn't a million dollars.
     Along this same line, Ed and Toni Eames describe an incident which
occurred after our 1993 Convention in Dallas. They were at the airport on their
way home. Here is how they tell it:

     We ran into one of the Hyatt managers and discussed the hotel's reaction to the presence
     of a large number of guide dogs. He recalled one or two incidents of dogs defecating in
     the hotel but indicated the dogs did not create an undue burden for hotel staff. Comparing
     NFB conventions with those of psychiatrists, surgeons, and some fraternal organizations,
     the manager said these other groups are much more destructive of hotel property and
     taxing to hotel personnel. People who spill wine on carpets, smokers who burn holes in
     furniture, and children who draw pictures on hotel walls are far more of a problem than
     dogs who have occasional indiscretions on carpets.

     This is what Ed and Toni Eames say, and I would respond by asking: What
would you expect a hotel manager to say in such circumstances? The
convention is over; the Eameses are not negotiating a contract; and of course
the hotel manager will make friendly comments and get as much good will as he
can. When it comes to the hard-boiled, cold-blooded process of negotiating the
next contract, the situation will be different. Do you really think that our people
do not spill wine on carpets, burn holes in furniture, or have children who draw
pictures on hotel walls? I have no wish to be argumentative, but the time has
come when we absolutely must be realistic and stop pretending and playing
games.
     But enough of this item. Let us go to the next. So far, we have discussed
three ways a blind person can deal with travel: 

     1. Don't do it at all
     2. Use a cane
     3. Use a dog

So we continue:

     4. Use a sighted person's arm. This one is complex. It has distinct
advantages if the sighted person is available when wanted, willing, observant,
and cooperative--but it also has rather strong disadvantages. Some people
regard you as looking helpless and dependent if you are holding the arm of a
sighted person. In certain situations this may certainly have an element of truth
about it, but I must confess that I have difficulty seeing why you look more
dependent being led by a sighted person than by a dog. The blind person who
uses a sighted guide on a constant basis is deprived of privacy, and there are
times when some of the arguments (but only some) made about the dog can
also be made about the sighted guide. The blind person, for instance, may be
invited to a meeting or have a conversation when it is inappropriate for the
sighted guide to be present--or, for that matter, when the other party distinctly
does not want someone else present. This would not apply to a cane, and it
would not likely apply to a dog. The dog might not be wanted for other reasons,
but not because of matters of privacy. Unless the sighted guide is used
sparingly and appropriately, the quality of life for the blind person suffers, and
the inconvenience to others (namely, the sighted guide) is considerable.
     When a blind person relies on a sighted guide as a primary means of
mobility, there will be real problems unless special circumstances exist. What if
a sighted guide is not available on a regular basis? What if a sighted guide
(even a spouse) is available but unwilling--or (worse) willing but domineering
and custodial? In such cases the blind person is likely to be bored, marooned,
humiliated, and/or limited in activities. Moreover, in such circumstances the
blind person loses at least some status, risks being regarded as an inferior, and
is likely to be pitied. If I were to find myself in such circumstances, I would make
a strong effort to devise some other way of mobility. I experienced some of this
when I was a child, and it isn't pleasant.

     5. Use one or another of the new electronic devices that are being
developed. The day may come when this will be the preferred technique, but not
yet. I have experimented with most of the electronic technology that purports to
offer independent mobility to the blind, and I think it is one of the least
satisfactory alternatives available. As far as I am concerned, the problem with it
is that it won't work. As I have said, maybe the time will come, but meanwhile I
will use something else.

     6. Travel without using any of the foregoing methods. This is the
technique preferred by many blind people who have one degree or another of
residual eyesight. Although it was used extensively by totally blind people prior
to the 1950's and 60's (I being one of them), it is rapidly falling out of favor--and
I think rightly so. If the blind person travels much at all, this method has more
danger associated with it than the others I have listed--with, perhaps, the
exception of electronic devices. It tends to promote rationalization on the part of
blind persons, who tell themselves (and especially others) that they really don't
want to go to this place when the truth is that they are afraid they can't get there
or that they will be embarrassed in the attempt. Except for blind persons with a
good deal of remaining eyesight, I think this is a totally unsatisfactory method of
mobility.

     7. Use a combination of the foregoing methods. For me this is the one
that makes the most sense. I use a combination of cane, sighted person's arm,
and no travel aid at all. When I move about my home, in my office, or other
restricted areas, I feel no need to use any assistive device. In fact, it would be a
hindrance.
     When I walk through the halls or other places at the National Center for
the Blind, or when I walk alone on the street or in hotels or other such places, I
use a cane. When I hold a sighted person's arm, I also use a cane to tell me
when I am coming to steps, posts, curbs, or other objects. When I am walking
somewhere with a sighted person, I find it easier for both me and my companion
if I take an arm instead of just using the cane and walking by the person's side.
     Federationists will remember that I summed up my feelings about canes
and sighted persons' arms in my speech on the nature of independence at the
1993 NFB Convention in Dallas. Here is one paragraph that I think is particularly
pertinent:

     . . . I contend that there are times when refusing to take an arm that is offered may
     constitute the very opposite of independence. If, for instance, you are a blind person
     accompanying a sighted person through a busy restaurant closely packed with tables and
     chairs, do you create a better image of independence by trying to get through the maze
     alone, with the sighted person going in front and constantly calling back, "This way! This
     way!" or by simply taking the sighted person's arm and going to the table? What is better
     about following a voice than following an arm? From what I have said, I presume it is clear
     which method I favor. Of course, if no arm is conveniently available, you should be
     prepared to use another method, regardless of how crowded the restaurant or how
     labyrinthine the path. In either case you should do it without losing your cool. But I'll tell
     you what alternative is not acceptable in such circumstances--pretending that you don't
     want anything to eat and not going at all. That's not acceptable.

     That is what I said in Dallas in 1993, and those who want an elaboration of
my views on the nature of independence can refer to the September/October,
1993, Braille Monitor for the whole speech. Meanwhile, here are the four
paragraphs from it that seem most relevant to what we are discussing:

          As to travel, independence is the ability to go where you want when you want
     without inconvenience to yourself or others. Probably none of us (blind or sighted) ever
     fully achieves that goal all of the time--and almost all of us achieve at least some of it
     some of the time. Usually we are on a continuum.
          If I could not travel by myself without discomfort or great expense, there are times
     when it would be a real problem. What about the trip I made to Kansas City in May of this
     year to meet with local Federationists and speak at a JOB seminar? My wife had other
     things to do, and it would have been inconvenient to take someone else. I went alone. Did
     I have any assistance during the trip? Yes. At times--when it was convenient for me and
     not inconvenient to others.
          What about the time last month when I was called for jury duty? It would have been
     very difficult for a guide to have accompanied me to the jury box or the jury room--so, of
     course, I went by myself. Does that mean that nobody showed me where the jury box was
     or gave other assistance? No. It means that I went where I needed to go without
     inconvenience to me or those around me. That is what I call independence.
          Just as with the sighted, there are times when you as a blind person want privacy--
     want to go somewhere (to see a boyfriend or girlfriend, for instance) without being
     accompanied by your daily associates, want to buy a present for a friend or a loved one, or
     just feel like following a whim. In such cases, a dog or a cane is helpful. On the other
     hand, there are times when the assistance of a sighted person is extremely beneficial.
     Taken by itself, the use or lack of use of a sighted guide has very little, if anything at all, to
     do with real independence. In fact, the whole notion of independence (not just in mobility
     but also in everything else) involves the concept of doing what you want when you want,
     and doing it without paying such a heavy price (either monetarily or otherwise) that the
     thing is hardly worth having once you get it or do it.

     That is what I said in Dallas, and that is what I deeply and truly believe.
There are different combinations of mobility techniques from those that I use.
For example, some blind people prefer to use a combination of dog and cane--
the dog at one time and the cane at another. I know one blind person who says
that he got a guide dog because he wanted to do a lot of running for exercise
and felt that the dog was superior to the cane for that particular activity. He may
well have been right. He went on to say that he felt that the cane was a better
form of mobility during almost every other part of his daily routine.
     If he truly uses the dog in the limited way that he says, most of the
disadvantages I have mentioned would be reduced or eliminated. On the other
hand, I wonder what he would do with the dog during the rest of the day--where
he would keep it, and what its reactions would be. Ultimately, of course, each of
us must make a personal decision as to what technique or combination of
techniques we will use, but we should do it responsibly, recognizing that our
choices do not just affect us. They affect other blind people as well, and they
also affect our sighted associates and chance acquaintances.
     The problem is not simple. Neither is the solution. Above all, what I have
said must be kept in perspective and seen in proper context. The Federation as
an organization and I personally have fought for the rights of guide-dog users,
and that will continue. As I have already said, I use a cane. The fact that there
are disadvantages to the cane should not mean that I cannot use it if I choose to
do so or that my fellow Federationists should not defend my right to do it. The
same is true of the use of a sighted person's arm, or of a dog. As I see it, there
are real disadvantages to using a dog, but others may see it differently.
Regardless of that, we have to be able to discuss our opinions freely, but when
the discussion is finished, we must join ranks and defend each other's right to
choose--and we must do it with understanding and good will.
     It has not been easy to say some of the things I have said in this article
because I know they will cause a certain amount of pain and anger. But they
need saying. In fact, they have to be said if we are to be honest with ourselves
and keep faith with our principles. Moreover, I cannot hide from the issue but
must stand up and be counted, regardless of the consequences.
     I repeat that what I have said must be seen in context. What is a blind
person to do if he or she does not have access to good cane-travel teaching? In
that case I might use a dog, but I hope I would recognize the consequences.
Suppose no arm of a sighted person is available. Of course, it often isn't. Again,
I would do the best I could, and I would hope that other blind people (those who
might have had better opportunities) would treat me with respect and not as an
inferior. We need to be honest with each other, but we also need to be long on
understanding and mutual support and short on criticism. We are brothers and
sisters in a movement, and we should act that way. Society has given us a heavy
dose of conditioning, and there is not one of us who has fully lived up to our
philosophy all of the time.
     In this article I have spoken from the heart, with as much sensitivity as I
possess. From my fellow Federationists I hope for understanding and rational
consideration of the issues. I do not hope for the same treatment from the
guide-dog schools. It would be more than human to expect them to treat what I
have said dispassionately. The concept of the centrality of the dog in mobility
for the blind is the essence of their existence. It means jobs, prestige, and
(especially for the volunteer board members) a heavy emotional investment and
commitment. They will undoubtedly regard my statements as a personal attack.
They are not meant that way.
     If we who are blind are to go the rest of the way to independence and
equality, we must find our own way and do what we believe is in our best
interest. We cannot be primarily what others want us to be and do what others
want us to do. We must be and do for ourselves--accepting our responsibility as
first-class citizens, working to improve our lives, bearing our share of the
common load, and trying to help make the world a better place for all. Yes, this
is a hard goal to reach, but the struggle to get there is what makes life worth
living. It is the essence of humanity.


[Photo #2 Caption: Randy Cummings of California sits in a hot tub at the 1995 Convention of the
National Federation of the Blind at the Hilton and Towers Hotel in Chicago while his dog guide
Jericho looks on.]

                    FUNDRAISING MATERIAL FROM
          THE GUIDE DOG FOUNDATION FOR THE BLIND, INC.

     From the Editor Emeritus: While we were in the process of deciding
whether to run this issue of the Braille Monitor dealing with travel techniques, an
interesting and relevant letter appeared on my desk. It came from the Guide Dog
Foundation for the Blind of Smithtown, New York, and it was one of the factors
that convinced us that the topic had to be discussed.
     Aside from the tear-jerking nature of the letter, it contains such
exaggerated claims and overblown implications that it symbolizes one of the
major aspects of the problem. Regardless of the need for funds and no matter
how important guide dogs may be, they are not the whole focus of a blind
person's life. They do not, for instance, make the difference in whether a blind
person can go to college, go to graduate school, have a successful career, get
married, have a family, get promotions in a job, reach out in compassion to
people who are in trouble, make friends, or lead a full life. It is certainly not
typical for people who use canes to fall down stairs and risk serious injury
because they don't have a guide dog to give them freedom.
     If a non-guide-dog organization were to try to raise funds by claiming that
the use of a dog would rob blind persons of freedom and endanger their lives, if
it said that dogs would keep people away from you but that canes would draw
them to you and make friends for you, guide-dog schools and guide-dog users
alike would be outraged and vocally furious--and rightly so. Yet, the letter you
are about to read does all of these things, and more. Do I misrepresent what it
says? Read, and judge for yourself:

                                             Guide Dog Foundation
                                              for the Blind, Inc.
                                              Smithtown, New York
                                                   March 23, 1995

To Mr. Kenneth Jernigan
The Braille Monitor

Dear Mr. Jernigan:

     It's my pleasure to introduce myself to you as the Guide Dog Foundation's
new President. My name is Heidi VandeWinckel, and I am blind.
     I graduated from the Guide Dog Foundation's training program with my
first dog in 1972. I was just thirteen--two years under the usual minimum age for
receiving a guide dog.
     The Foundation folks weren't sure whether I could handle the
responsibility of a guide dog. But I told them I wanted to do more than I could
do with a cane. I knew a guide dog would give me freedom. And after the Guide
Dog Foundation folks talked with me, they gave me a chance.
     I'll always be grateful for that opportunity, because my first guide dog--a
male Labrador retriever named Garth--changed my life. With a cane, I couldn't
be fully independent. But with Garth, I could do everything I wanted to do.
     And with the excellent training Garth and I received from the Guide Dog
Foundation, I really went places. To college. To graduate school. And on to a
successful career, marriage, and family.
     Today, I am a Section Chief in Social Work at a Veterans Administration
Hospital. Thanks to the freedom my guide dog gives me, I can move confidently
around the Hospital's huge campus. And I can thrive in this demanding
profession, reaching out in compassion to veterans undergoing medical and
surgical rehabilitation or coping with their own disabilities.
     After 22 years and three guide dogs, I know how much I owe my guide
dogs--and the Guide Dog Foundation. That's why I was eager to serve as the
Foundation's Board of Directors President. It's my way of giving back some of
what has been given to me.
     Not long ago, I was "between dogs." Frisco, my second guide dog, had
retired, and I was waiting for Murphy, my current dog. I was forced to use a
cane again, and I fell down a flight of stairs. Fortunately, I wasn't seriously
injured. But the fall made me think about the many ways my guide dogs have
protected me--without my even knowing it!
     That's why it's so important for every blind person who wants a guide dog
to have one. For me, a guide dog made the difference between fear and
confidence. Between hesitation and courage. (And they're also terrific friends,
not just to me but to my husband and my four-year-old son, Drew!)
     I'm grateful for all the help you've given the Guide Dog Foundation for the
Blind in the past. Your contributions make the Foundation's vital work possible.
Today, won't you consider renewing your support by returning the enclosed
contribution form with your generous, tax-deductible gift?
     Raising and training guide dogs is an expensive process. But it's worth
every penny. And it's especially important that every blind person who wants a
dog be matched with one and thoroughly trained. Your gift of $25, $50, $100, or
even more will enable us to reach out...to train more dogs...to give the gift of
independence, safety, and confidence to others like me.
     I know my guide dogs have saved my life in the past. But they've done
even more: They've given me freedom. Please help the Guide Dog Foundation
continue giving people Second Sight with your contribution today.

                                                       Sincerely,
                                    Heidi VandeWinckel, President
                                               Board of Directors

P.S. When you're blind, a cane keeps people away. But dogs draw people to
you, they make friends for you, while guiding and protecting, too! Please help
the Guide Dog Foundation pay the expenses of raising guide dog puppies and
training the dogs and their new masters. Your gift would mean so much! Thank
you.


[Photo #3 Caption: Doug Elliott]

            THE PROBLEMS PEOPLE ARE AFRAID TO DISCUSS
                         by Doug Elliott

     From the Editor Emeritus: Harness Up is the publication of the National
Association of Guide Dog Users, which is a division of the National Federation of
the Blind. Under date of February 28, 1995, Doug Elliott sent the following article
to Bill Isaacs, the Editor of Harness Up, with a copy to Paul Gabias. Here is what
he said:

To the Editor:
      I have been a dog user for almost ten years and a member of the
National Federation of the Blind for seven. Recent talk about dog use, including
Divisional (National Association of Guide Dog Users) meetings and the Division's
newsletter, have started me thinking. I've got some things to say.
     Some people may not agree with what I have to say. That's part of my
point in saying these things. The whole topic of dog use has become
sacrosanct. We in the Federation insist that agencies speak honestly, and we
describe them honestly even when they won't. We cut through blather to the
hard core of fact. We talk openly and honestly about blindness even though it
makes some people uncomfortable. But we have slowly drifted into a position of
not talking openly and honestly about dog use. Every other subject is fair game
for straight talk. But if anybody raises doubts or questions about dog use or the
approach of the Guide Dog Division, that person is labeled as a dog-hater, an
insensitive bigot, or something worse. Well, it's time the Federation's honesty
extended to the subject of dog use. So here goes: 
     1. Role of the Division. The Division is slowly drifting away from the
Federation. This isn't intentional, I think. It's an unrecognized consequence of
choices made by Division members. The choices over the past several years
have been very strongly toward advocacy of dog use. You may say: What's
wrong with that? One thing that's wrong with it is, with one exception, the
Federation is not an organization advocating particular choices for blind
persons. We advocate choosing independence. Beyond that, the methods are
up to the blind person. 
     However, the Division more and more advocates for one method, dog use.
In newsletters and meetings, Division members discuss the good things about
using dogs. This has always struck me as odd since I would have assumed that
all the people in the Division already knew the good things, having chosen
themselves to use dogs. The constant and growing insistence on focusing on
the value of dog use almost makes me wonder if Division members are trying to
convince themselves that the right choice was made.More importantly, focus
on dog use removes our focus from blindness. The more talk about dogs, the
less room for talk about blindness. And I see the trend continuing. Let's get
back to blindness, the reason we were founded in the first place. Lawyers talk
about blindness as it affects their profession, as do teachers and the human
service professionals. In the general convention sessions, the whole Federation
talks about blindness and how we can make positive changes regarding it. I
urge the dog users' Division to do the same. 
     Here is an example: Dog users often talk about how their dog is very
important in their professional life, in their personal life, and in their activities of
daily living. A listener could often get the idea that without the dog these people
would be unable to do the things they now do. Blind people who use either
canes or dogs go to work daily, develop significant relationships, and take care
of the routine business of life. 
     However, we dog users need to start exploring the problems that occur
when we repeatedly hear "What a beautiful dog!," "What is your dog's name?,"
"How old is your dog?," and "Doesn't that dog take good care of you!" While
using my dog, I have tried to carry on important conversations with others at
work, on public transportation, and in restaurants. Time after time, I have had
my privacy invaded by members of the public who feel that, because I have a
dog, the dog transforms me into some kind of display that anyone can talk to or
about, regardless of my own personal wishes. It's worst when the dog is the one
who is addressed on the subject of his "taking care of me." 
     Of course, all of us deal with these occurrences. But in the Division's
newsletter or in Divisional meetings I have not seen positive suggestions from
fellow dog users about how to deal with these problems. In fact, I have heard
some dog users who don't think this is a problem at all. Rather, they think this
public interaction is a benefit. For example, I have heard dog users talk about
their dog's being an "ice breaker" because the blind user can respond to a
member of the public who first addresses the dog. I think we must weigh
whether the intrusive behavior of the sighted public is worth the alleged ice
breaking. Moreover, I don't believe that I would seek out or want a relationship
with someone who wants to be buddies with my dog. I prefer to make
relationships, whether casual or long-lasting, based on me, not my dog.
     I believe the Division has a responsibility to encourage dog users to place
themselves in priority and to help dog users untangle how public attitudes about
their dogs affect them. Blindness affects us all. But for dog users, the choice to
use a dog adds one more complication. When the public keeps telling us that
our dogs are taking care of us, some of us may come secretly to agree or
partially agree with them. The dog becomes a way of avoiding dealing directly
with our blindness when we over-focus on the dog and yet secretly believe that
the dog, because it can see, can do things to make us independent that we can't
do for ourselves and that, in fact, simply because it can see it is in many ways
superior to us even though we are human beings and it is a dog.
     The Federation teaches honestly about blindness and honestly about the
value of alternative techniques. The Division should be helping its members sort
out their feelings about blindness in the face of the sighted public's attitude
about dogs. This would be much more useful than joking during Divisional votes
that there is a rule that only people's hands can be raised and not dogs' tails.
     2. Drawbacks. One marked trend in recent years is a growing insistence
on the good things about dogs. Oddly missing from any such discussion are the
drawbacks of using a dog. Oh, yes. There are drawbacks. But from reading the
newsletter or attending Divisional meetings, you don't learn much about that.
Again, I say that we pride ourselves on honesty when it comes to quality of
rehabilitation, employment opportunities, and freedom to travel. Only where
dogs are concerned is there a taboo on discussing drawbacks. But there are
drawbacks to dog use. 
     One is the constant care a dog deserves. When you make the choice to
get a dog, you know this in general. And once you have the dog, the
commitment is already made and has to be carried out. If you don't, you're
simply cruel. But if you do, you pay a price. The price includes going out at all
hours and in all forms of weather. It's cold in the winter where I live, and I'm out
there four to six times a day, no matter what. Some of you may say that you let
your dogs out by themselves. To that, I say that you're not keeping your dog
under trained conditions at all times. I found that, when I let my dog out by
himself instead of leash-relieving him he would refuse to leash-relieve when I
was traveling, causing both me and him much discomfort and extra effort. After I
started leash-relieving consistently, he settled down and now keeps to schedule
wherever we are. It's a price you pay.
     Another drawback is scheduling. The dog must be relieved at pretty
consistent times. When you work, you must go to your employer and state that
you must take the dog out several times during the working day. No employer is
going to refuse you permission to do this. That's not the problem. Rather, the
problem is that you are as a Federationist maintaining that you are equal to
others, able to pull your own weight, ready to do your part. And then you are
saying: Oh, but there's one exception. I'm not able to do that when my dog
needs to be relieved. You can't demand equality and inequality at the same time.
You also can't stay on the production line, or in the mixing booth, or on the job
running group therapy, or wherever you work, as flexibly as others. Your
schedule is dependent on your dog's, and you have to have slack from
employers and co-workers, not due to blindness but due to the dog. It's a price
you pay. 
     Another drawback is informational. Many dog users praise dog use
because the dog goes sailing past obstacles cane users would run into. Well, I
know from experience that cane users know a very great deal more about what's
around them than I do. And cane users don't have the option of ignoring what's
going on around them. They encounter it with their canes, no matter what. Dog
users can get into the habit of not encountering the world to their detriment. I
saw an example of this at a state convention recently. There was only one way
out of the elevator lobby, with elevators on both sides. As you left the elevator
lobby, the outside door was straight ahead and right there if you turned left, and
the front desk was straight ahead if you turned right. Cane users sailed in and
out of the lobby, to the door, and to the desk. Their canes forced them to learn
the terrain to get around in it. I stepped off the elevator nearest the door with my
rolling luggage and immediately became entangled in a dog's leash. The owner
was standing there, two feet from the mouth of the elevator lobby and five feet
from the front door, which could be heard and felt by temperature. The owner
was saying repeatedly to his dog: "Find the counter. Find the counter." No cane
user would do that, and I hope most dog users wouldn't either. But here was a
dog user, in possession of all the information cane users had--terrain, corners,
audible front door, temperature from front door--and completely baffled about
where the front desk was. Moreover, he didn't think he had to know. He thought
that his dog was the one who should know and find it. Now, I don't know any
dog schools that train dogs to "find the counter." That's the blind person's job to
know and to give the simple directional commands the dog is trained to
execute. But that owner had slipped into the belief that his dog was supposed to
know English and be able to interpret and apply it. You couldn't see the desk
from where the dog was even if the dog knew what "counter" meant. And the
dog was confused and frightened. I am sure that the next time that same
elevator off which I stepped opened again, the poor dog shot onto it. My dog
has done the same thing. When feeling confused and unable to execute a
command, he takes the only step he can think of, rushing onto an elevator or
into any door at hand just to do something in the hope that it's what is wanted.
All that dogs want to do is please and follow commands. But they don't know
English beyond a few simple commands, and they aren't responsible for
knowing where we are going and how to get there. That's our job. Asking the
dog to do it is impossible and unkind. Yet I am afraid that all too many users fall
into the trap of thinking that, because their dog can see and they can't, the dog
can get and use information and, by the way, do it better than cane users can. I
feel sorry for those dogs and, I guess, in a different way, sorry for the owners
who feel that way. Dog use is at its optimum when the user goes to a very
limited number of places and goes there regularly. That's a price you pay.
     I am not saying that dog use is bad. I've used my dog for nearly ten years
and gone all over the country safely and efficiently. But I am saying that these
drawbacks were not described to me when I was considering a dog. To be fair
to ourselves and to other blind people, we must consider all sides of this issue
just as we insist on considering all sides of every other issue. What are the
prices? Have I listed them all? What is the real cost to the user and to blind
people? We haven't yet begun to discuss these questions. 
     3. Saying Canes Don't Work. While I'm on the subject of honesty, I want to
mention one theme I constantly hear in the newsletter and in Division meetings,
the theme that canes don't work. It's never quite said that way. Rather, it's said
like this: I'm not very good with a cane. After I got my dog, I became much more
mobile, and now I think everyone should get a dog. 
     Let's unpack that set of statements a little. In the first place, the speaker
always states some form of not being good with a cane. Now, we all know that
all dog schools insist that their students must be good cane users before
getting a dog. Yet, every dog user I've ever heard comment on the subject
states that he or she is not very good with a cane. Which is true? Do the schools
insist on good cane use, or are all the dog users bad cane users? I would guess
from personal experience that mediocre cane use is common and that the
schools' claims to screen for good cane use are false. I know I was a mediocre
cane user when I went to get my dog.
     And that's part of my point. Implied but not actually stated by all such
self-described inadequate cane users is the conclusion that cane use itself is
inadequate, not just their particular practice of it. I have three responses. One is
that people who are not very good at something often assume that the skill itself
is not worth having or that the skill can only be attained by the rarely gifted. If
I'm bad at something, I'm not likely to put much effort into praising that skill.
Second, I do know, and so does every dog user, people who use the cane
efficiently and well. It's about time we stopped pretending that our own
inadequate cane skills set the standard. Just because we can't do something
well doesn't mean that others also cannot. And third, I'm sick and tired of
hearing dog users trash cane use and at the same time hearing the same dog
users react with anger and bitterness if a cane user raises any question about
the efficiency of dog use. The choice of a travel tool is just that--a choice, not a
religion. And it's a choice, not a battle to put one another down. Why can't we
discuss this one issue civilly when all other issues are open for fair and honest
talk?     Canes do work. It's time dog users got that straight. Dogs can work
for some people. It's time dog users quit defending dog use by attacking
someone else and started thinking through blindness issues. It's much more
fruitful. 
     4. Avoidance. I sincerely mean what I just said. It's time dog users started
thinking through blindness issues instead of attacking cane use. In all too many
instances, what I hear in Division meetings and read in the newsletter strikes me
as avoidance tactics. This is a very common psychological pattern, and I think
we should recognize and deal with it. 
     In the Federation, we all know about avoidance. Most of us have engaged
in various forms of it throughout our lives. In one way or another, we have shied
away from talking openly and honestly about blindness. Some of us avoid
blindness by throwing ourselves into a profession and pretending that our
blindness doesn't exist, working to be the very best professional we can while
secretly hoping that our sighted professional colleagues will forget we are blind.
Others of us withdraw, working quietly and going home as soon as we can,
pretending to ourselves that we aren't very social when we really just have a
hard time dealing with the public's attitudes about blindness. There are
hundreds of ways of avoiding dealing directly with our own feelings about our
blindness and then avoiding dealing with the attitudes of others around us.
     Another way of avoidance is specific to dog users. They become
extra-super-strong on the subject of dogs, insist on the superiority of dogs,
insist that opposing opinions or choices are wrong. This can all be a way of
avoiding the dog user's own feelings of inadequacy based on blindness. Every
blind person needs to work on his or her attitudes and to work in the Federation
to change the public's. Every blind person has hundreds of ways of avoiding
both these jobs. Dog use has come to be one way for some people.
     5. Propaganda. Another concern I have is that, when we pick up the
Divisional newsletter, we are inundated with articles reprinted exactly from
guide-dog training school newsletters or other releases. Why? 
     Guide-dog schools have their own ways of communicating their views to
blind people. We of the Federation should not be re- distributing their
propaganda. This goes for meetings as well as newsletters. We should be
shaping the issues and discussions, not letting them do it. 
     6. Mythologizing Dogs. There's one last bit I want to say. In talking about
dogs, we all need to be careful not to mythologize dogs. Some in the Division
have glorified dogs, regarding them as supernaturally bright and capable. Some
blind people over the years have demonized dog use as wrong and bad. Neither
is true. But I think dog users bear the burden of responsibility in this area since
they are consistent violators and are the ones who should set the proper tone. 
     Here's an example of what I mean. In a recent newsletter, one dog user
was saying that she often thinks about all the dangers her dog has protected her
from that she doesn't even know about. Now, think about that. In the first place,
the dog user is saying that the dog knows more about what's going on in the
world around it and her than she does. If she really thinks that, then she's
genuinely unsafe to move about in the world, dog or not. She is the one with the
human brain, the ability to assess information and make decisions. She is also
the one who is supposed to be making decisions based on information she gets
from the dog. The dog is not supposed to be making decisions. And if the dog
is actually protecting her from uncounted dangers she doesn't even know about,
what's going to happen to her one day when the dog's attention lapses or its
mortality catches up with it? My dog doesn't protect me from dangers. I protect
myself, using the information I get from him. But a person who actually believes
that her dog is protecting her from dangers she doesn't even know about is also
a person who still has to learn a great deal about her own abilities and
competence. Yet, I hear a lot of that in the Division--the supernatural quality of
the dog making life easier for the blind person. If you really buy into that, really
believe that the dog is so smart that it can take care of you, then what do you
believe about the level of your own capabilities? It's not very flattering. Learning
that the dog is a tool, a living breathing tool, that loves you and that you love but
nonetheless a tool in your human hands, a tool providing you with information
you need to make decisions and take responsibility--all this can be very
liberating because it places blindness into perspective. Without it, mythologizing
is just another fiction about blindness.
     As I said at the beginning of this letter, I don't expect everyone who reads
this immediately to agree with what I have to say. My purpose in writing this
letter is to challenge the Federation, both dog users and non-users, to begin to
think through these issues calmly and openly and using our human ability to
reason. Our Federation constitution says we are a vehicle for change, and that
includes our changing and improving our own understanding of the world
around us and how we can best live in it. Please join me in using our Federation
vehicle for change to improve our understanding in this area as we do in so
many others.

                                          Yours in Federationism,
                                                     Doug Elliott


[Photo #4 Portrait Caption: Bill Isaacs and his guide dog Prince]

              BILL ISAACS RESPONDS TO DOUG ELLIOTT

                                            Bourbonnais, Illinois
                                                   March 27, 1995

Dear Doug:
     I want to respond to your letter of February 28, and the accompanying
article which you sent along with it. I thought about printing your article along
with my response to you because I think there is a major misunderstanding on
your part about what Paul and I have been attempting to do. I might add that I
think I feel a little bit more strongly about my position on certain things than
does Paul. Paul suggested that I not print your article in Harness Up, and that he
would be contacting you directly about your concerns from his viewpoint.
     Well, Doug, I do agree with you at certain points here and there along the
course of your article; but, on the other hand, starting from some of the same
premises that you propose, I arrive at quite different conclusions.
     The sacrosanct position on guide dogs and taking a firm stand on
blindness when it comes to working with agencies are two examples of our
differences. I see the sacrosanct position is that of the hierarchy above rather
than from below. Since when have you heard a positive presentation on guide
dogs coming from the convention floor? Since when have you seen a positive
article on guide dogs in the Braille Monitor as being a viable mobility tool for the
blind? In looking over the Monitor for the past twelve months, you will find a
positive article or picture about white cane use in practically every one. During
that same time span you will find Paul Gabias's announcement about the Guide
Dog Division's annual meeting, but almost nothing else. I think there were two
negative uses of guide dogs in regard to resolutions dealing with clean-up by
guide-dog schools. Furthermore, I cannot see how you can separate the use of
guide dogs from the theme of standing up for blindness. Personally, I think
every blind person with proper physical agility should be encouraged to give the
guide dog a try. I used a cane for twelve or fourteen years or more before trying
a guide dog. I had no idea what I was missing until I really learned to trust my
dog and got properly in sync with it. I believe that is true for all blind guide-dog
users who believe that the guide dog is preferable to a cane for them. From my
experience, the general public views the blind people using canes with greater
pity than they do persons using guide dogs.
     From my viewpoint, the Guide Dog Division is not trying to undermine the
philosophy of the National Federation of the Blind. We are trying to enlighten the
rest of the blind community of what they might be missing. This task is very
difficult. No one is allowed to give a presentation before the mass audience at
the convention. Harness Up goes chiefly to those who already have the dogs
and perhaps know the pros and cons concerning them. I have always had the
feeling around the National Convention and from observing the materials in the
Monitor that the leadership of the Federation frowns upon the use of guide
dogs. For persons who have never used guide dogs, how can they take that
position when they really do not know what it is like to walk with a guide dog
with competence? I get the feeling that guide-dog users are looked upon as
second-class models as blind persons. Should we just be "Uncle Toms" and
accept this meekly?
     I agree with you that independence is the primary emphasis of the
Federation philosophy, and I have no quarrel with that. However, I think for
some blind persons they would have greater independence with a guide dog
than with a cane. To compare the use of a guide dog because he has eyes with
a sighted guide is a bunch of baloney. In many instances a guide dog can get
you to where you want to go with much more grace and poise than using a
cane. I know from experience, for I have used both. I can walk confidently with a
cane, but I cannot state that it is an exhilarating experience just because I can
do it. It's much more fun and relaxing to do it with a guide dog. Why take a hard
road when there's an easier one? Why would an acrobat want to walk a
tightrope without a balancer? Just to prove the point that he can do it, even
though the other way would be safer and more comfortably achieved?
     Doug, you stated that you admit that you were not the best cane user.
Have you ever pondered the thought that you might not use a guide dog to the
highest degree as well? I'm not trying to sell the guide dog to any and every
blind person. I just think the dog ought to be given proper consideration. To my
knowledge I have only influenced two or three people to get guide dogs, and
that was done indirectly. I think the National Federation of the Blind as an
organization could do much in working in harmony with the guide-dog schools
to greatly upgrade the performance of guide dogs as well as teaching proper
responsibility to the guide-dog user in caring for his/her dog. The guide-dog
training schools are beginning to respond to the clean-up problem, to proper
training for subways, and outright ownership of one's guide dog. I think the
guide-dog schools can help us too with some of our problems at a National
Convention. You've been at a training school. You know that it does not stink
where they take proper precautions in keeping things clean around the kennels
and the dorm. By attending our conventions, they can see the problems which
one has with a guide dog in a convention setting. Dogs have not been trained to
meet those kinds of situations in times past.
     You imply that we are too positive about the guide dog as a functional
mobility tool for the blind. You state that guide-dog users already know this. I
would make a conjecture that they already know the negatives as well. Why
should we emphasize the negatives if we really believe that a guide dog is a
perfectly good and viable alternative method? Do the Teachers Division and the
Computer Division spend much time emphasizing the negatives? Do white-cane
instructors emphasize the negatives linked with the use of the white cane? The
whole purpose of a support group or sub-support group is to be uplifting and
give a sense of direction. I believe that a guide dog and a cane both have their
places in a blind community. If you read my article, "My Guide Dog, My White
Cane," in one of the 1994 issues of Harness Up, you know I said positive things
about both dog and cane as useful tools. The February, 1995, Braille Monitor
included a positive article about the white cane which I had written some years
ago. I still use both. Of course, right now I am without a dog until April 16. Even
when I have a dog, I always find certain occasions where the cane is more
functional, but for primary everyday routine, I find the guide dog a superior tool
for me.
     My joy in walking with my guide dog is so great that I personally look
upon the expense and time involved in maintaining my dog to be of little
consequence. I believe that if one feels otherwise, then he/she should not be a
guide-dog user. There have been many articles of late proving the point that a
pet can be a great benefit as therapy for its owner. A dog is one of the more
favorable pets that can bring this about. If an ordinary pet can have this effect
on its owner, how much greater would this effect be from a guide dog where the
bond is so much stronger?
     For the past ten months or so I have been without a dog. Except for a
week and a half or so following my back surgery on January 10, I have walked
two or three miles a day. I have a long cane which comes up to my nose. I wear
out the metal tip about every ten to twelve weeks, even in zero or below
weather. I prefer walking outside with the cane or the dog to walking in the mall.
I have broken one cane which got caught in the wheel of a car that was parked
about two feet out from the curb. I have to walk in the street in most places
since there are only a few sidewalks in this suburban area. I bumped my nose
and forehead on some kind of lift sticking out on the front of a dump truck that
was parked for a weekend at our neighbor's house. I found, after using a dog, I
tended to walk too fast with a cane since as you know, dogs walk three to five
miles an hour, and pedestrians walk about two or three miles an hour. Resulting
from this, I have bumped the front of two cars and skinned up my knee and shin
on bolts sticking out from the license plate holder. On one sidewalk I have
bumped several times a big sign sticking out over the walk from about waist
level up to the top of my head. Over the fourteen years I have used a guide dog
I have never bumped signs or run into cars or trucks. It just hasn't happened.
Furthermore, I do not find it very exciting to swing the white cane about ninety
to 100 times per block. With a guide dog I can spend much more of my time
listening to bird songs and paying more attention to what's going on around me,
knowing that he will stop if there's something on the sidewalk or when we get to
the crossing. If I want to double check to make sure that the curb is just on the
other side of the dog, I can always stop him and reach over and touch it with my
foot. It takes a lot more concentration and trial-and-error when using the white
cane than when using a guide dog. If a partially sighted person should try both
large print and Braille and decide which works best for him/her, I think it is also
true in using the white cane and the guide dog, but I do not hear this from our
leadership.
     It is true that some persons over-exaggerate the perfection of the guide
dog, implying that it has magical qualities perhaps. I have heard the "ice
breaker" statement many times also. I suppose it depends on whether you are
an introvert or an extrovert as to whether the "ice breaker" idea might be helpful.
I do not remember anyone's stopping to ask me anything about the cane over
the years that I used the cane except maybe another blind person. Personally, I
use the interruption of persons attracted to my dog to talk about blindness and
to make it a public awareness occasion. One very seldom has this opening with
a cane.
     I smiled a bit when I read your remarks about having to interrupt your
work schedule to take your dog out for parking. I noticed at the seminars in
Baltimore when I was there with my dog that it usually took the smokers longer
to get their smoking done than it did for me to take the dog out and get back.
As a college professor I have never had to interrupt my classes to take my dog
out. It is true that when you get a new dog, you do have to synchronize its
parking habits with your time zone and your occupational break slots. I think
that is one reason why the guide-dog schools do not like to give guide dogs to
blind persons under sixteen because they do not believe they are disciplined
enough to accept some of these responsibilities. One does have to be
disciplined in working on these schedules. I did have an article about taking a
guide dog to a National Convention dealing with many of these problems that
you mentioned. It was published in three or four copies of Harness Up over the
years.
     Your scenario of a guide-dog user trying to force his dog to find a counter
when cane users appeared to be more effective at your Iowa state convention
left me with some questions. I would like to know if this guide-dog user was at
his first state convention, or was this the first time that the guide dog had been
at a convention? Or are the two both new at this job of forming a team? It is true
that guide dogs are only taught a few commands. If Canine Companion dogs
can learn up to ninety commands, it seems to me that guide dogs could learn
quite a few more commands than they do. One has to start somewhere in
teaching a guide dog a new command. This is where I think sighted persons on
the spot need to give definite directions to guide-dog users. If you go wandering
around with a guide dog to find something, he's going to wander around every
time you look for that same thing if you don't go directly to it. Once the dog has
been shown the counter and had it pointed out in a specific way, he should be
able to find it the next time around.
     Fortunately, I have a sighted spouse who can help me with this problem
when I go to a new facility. After the first day or so, the dog and I have worked
out most of the wrinkles, and we can do these things on our own easily. Persons
who have no useful sight have to do this alone and no doubt find these new
situations very challenging. Those blind persons with a hearing problem would
find it an even greater challenge. I had trained my last guide dog to find the
elevator button, to find the stairwell, and to know the difference between up and
down when approaching steps. Of course, you can't teach these dogs in a
single day to do things of this sort.
     To my knowledge, I have never printed an article in Harness Up "putting
down" cane users or people who prefer the cane to the dog. Dialogue is
necessary, but as I have mentioned above, the only dialogue is from the white
cane users in all the forms available except Harness Up. There seems to be no
way of getting the dialogue going the other way through public forums of our
organization. With approximately only 100 guide-dog users out of 2,000 or more
cane users or persons who are sighted at a given National Convention, who do
you think gets the most flak? It appears that we who are sold on guide dogs
never talk about them unless we talk about the white cane on an equal basis. I
never see the white cane articles being apologetic toward the guide-dog users
when they write about the white cane. I want cane users to understand where I
am coming from as a guide-dog user. They have no good basis for many of
their snide remarks concerning dog users. I did not know anything about guide
dogs when I used a cane for many years before 1981, when I got my first dog.
     How can you really believe, Doug, that guide-dog users follow the
avoidance position concerning blindness? A guide-dog user sticks out in the
public eye much more so as a blind person than one with a cane. It is much
more difficult to hide your guide dog than it is to hide a folding or telescoping
cane. In our small community of 40,000 or so people in Kankakeeland, the three
most prominent blind persons in this county are those who have guide dogs.
One is a public school teacher, another is a judge, and myself as a blind college
professor. All three of us have found the dog more suitable for our needs than
the white cane, but this does not mean that we are against white canes or
people who use them. I have heard Dr. Jernigan say that the model blind person
is the person who uses a white cane. I have heard Fred Schroeder say that the
person who uses a guide dog is no different from one who uses a sighted
guide. In my estimation neither of these statements is true. Since neither of
these men, as far as my knowledge goes, has ever used a guide dog, what right
do they have in making such statements?
     Your statement concerning the place of guide-dog school and information
from their newsletters is beyond the pale of the National Federation of the Blind.
It is hard for me to fathom that. The computer people bring in computer experts
to explain what they are doing in the area of computers and computer programs.
If it weren't for the guide-dog schools, not very many of us would have guide
dogs. When I set out to get my first guide dog, I knew almost nothing about
guide dogs or guide-dog training schools. I just happened to have an older
student in my class who had a guide dog. After she had been around two or
three semesters, I began to ask her questions about the guide dog. I ended up
going to the same guide-dog school as she because that's the only one that I
had any information on. I think it's ridiculous to think that we ought not to have
personnel from the guide-dog schools at our Division meeting. The more we
know about guide dogs and the guide-dog schools, the better off we are in
selecting the next school of our choice. Until Ed and Toni Eames came out with
their book on guide-dog schools, there was nothing collating material about
guide-dog training schools. Having persons in flesh and blood from these
schools gives us greater insight into what guide-dog schools are all about. Next
month I will be going to my third guide-dog school, Leader Dog, to get my white
standard poodle. Had it not been for my contact with Brad Scott and his crew at
our Divisional meetings, I would not have known that this training of a poodle
would have been possible. In fact, the article I had in Harness Up concerning
poodles has helped create a demand for them, and Leader Dog is beginning to
listen. If you were planning on going to a different school to get a guide dog,
would it not be to your advantage to know somebody in person from that
institution even before you got there?
     As far as using articles from guide-dog training school newsletters and
placing them in Harness Up, have you ever been an editor of a newsletter and
found how difficult it is to get information through print? Many persons have told
me that Harness Up is getting better and better and that they find the
information helpful. The old Indian adage states something like this: "You can't
say anything much about this unless you have walked in my moccasins." William
James, a philosopher about century ago, made the statement in his pragmatic
philosophy, "If a thing works for you for good, definite, assignable reasons, then
this is truth." I have found that reading materials from guide-dog school
newsletters and using the guide dog both fit these criteria. Furthermore, I have
found that those few people who have complained about the newsletter never
send me anything to put in it. Except for your letter and article and those things
sent by Paul Gabias, I have received nothing since last October to put in the
newsletter. If one pays $10 to become a member of the Guide Dog Division, and
the newsletter is the primary link between the members and the Division, it
seems to me that something worthwhile ought to be put in the newsletter. Of
course, it is left up to the editor as to what he might include if he is given full
responsibility for that office. I did not want to monopolize the materials in
Harness Up with my own input.
     Mythologizing, I think, is another one of those things that works two ways.
I think, like several other terms used in this article, for you to say that a guide
dog doesn't make decisions I find unbelievable. When you cross a busy street, I
was instructed that once you step from the curb, it is up to the dog to get you
across, and he makes the decision whether to stop, go, or pull you back. As I
mentioned above concerning the dump truck, a good guide dog would make the
decision to walk around that overhanging contraption, and I would not know
what it was he was walking around, except perhaps that I would be aware there
was a vehicle of some sort there. If something is in the walkway, the dog has to
make a decision whether or not there is enough space to walk around it without
stopping to show it to you first. Personally, I would not want the dog to stop at
everything for me to inspect it first. It would be too time-consuming, at times at
least. I think there are too many myths out there from sighted persons and cane
users concerning guide dogs that have no validity. Besides, what's wrong with a
little propaganda? We hear it all the time from many other sources. I would
admit that some phrases here and there in various articles would state things in
a way that I would not. I did not want to cause any offense to any guide-dog
school or author of an article by tampering with their material. Some schools
require that you publish the whole thing as is if you use it at all.
     In some ways I would agree with you that change is necessary. Change
usually involves compromise, and compromise comes from dialogue. You can't
just pump out information to the guide-dog users and not touch the rest of the
blind population. I would propose that your article and my response to it be
published in the Braille Monitor to create a national forum. I did suggest to Dr.
Jernigan that there ought to be a segment in the Monitor dealing with the pros
and cons of guide-dog use. I would rise to the challenge. I believe we have
enough reasonable persons on both sides who could deal with this in a way that
would not hurt the image of the overall purposes of the National Federation of
the Blind. I think somewhere along the way it will have to be done if it's ever to
be settled in a realistic manner. Doug, if you think I have been a little hard on
you in my responses, I think the same thing is true in your letter and article
about what I have been doing as newsletter editor.
     For your information, I am resigning as editor after pulling the
spring/summer Harness Up issue together and sending it off to press. I told Paul
Gabias a couple of months ago that I wanted to resign. He accepted my
resignation, and he and Mary Ellen are going to become the new editors.
     Thank you for your very thought-provoking epistle. Perhaps we can talk
about our different positions on this subject at the National Convention in
Chicago or any other time that might be convenient.

                                                       Sincerely,
                                           Bill J. Isaacs, Editor
                                                       Harness Up

P.S. I have been a member of the National Federation of the Blind since the
summer of 1975. I am a firm believer in most of the positions that the Federation
takes on blind subjects. However, from my own personal experience, having
used both the white cane and the guide dog for approximately fourteen years
each, I know that I shall use a guide dog as long as I am physically able to do
so as a matter of choice. I think that there is a viable mobility tool besides a
cane which ought to be made plain to every blind person.


[Photo #5 This is a picture of people standing in a registration line.  Paul Gabias and his guide
dog Schubert are at the end; Mary and Peter Donahue from Texas, and Peter's dog Ogden are also
in the line. Caption: Paul Gabias and his guide dog Schubert stand in an NFB Convention
registration line.]

              PAUL GABIAS RESPONDS TO DOUG ELLIOTT

Kelowna, British Columbia
May 30, 1995

Dear Doug:

     It is always good to hear from a friend, even though the letter is somewhat
tempestuous. I am sorry it has taken me so long to respond to you. This does
not mean that your letter has not been in my thoughts. However, I wanted to
wait until the pressures of teaching and grading were largely over before I
turned my attention to more interesting matters. I did get to you as soon as I
absolutely could. You may not believe it, but I finished grading my last paper not
five minutes ago! 
     Our lives have changed significantly since our days in Reno, back in 1987.
Despite these changes, some memories are never forgotten. I remember in the
spring of 1988, when I was threatened with unemployment, you offered to make
place for me and my mother in your home. We were glad that this
unemployment never came to pass, but we knew that your hospitality would
have made us feel right at home. A friend like you is never forgotten, and I am
glad to have had you as a friend. I hope our friendship will continue for many
years. 
     I asked Bill Isaacs not to publish your letter because I found it very
disturbing. It was full of anger, not like you at all. The immediate question that
came to my mind was: What the heck is going on with him? The object of his
anger seems to be dogs! This is a guy who used to live with three dogs--Kita,
Trevor, and Little Zak! The anger generated seems to be directed at guide dogs
or people who use guide dogs. This is so unbelievable! I remember the many
walks we took with our dogs! We both marveled at the freedom, speed, and
versatility which was afforded to us by the dogs. We felt that there was nothing
like it! 
     Anyway, be that as it may, you have sent me this letter, and I must deal
with it. I will try to do so to the best of my capacity. 
     You worry that the topic of "dog use"--for some reason you avoid the term
guide dog throughout your letter--has become sacrosanct. Well, some topics are
sacrosanct. You don't complain about people's children without getting into
serious trouble with them. You don't complain about people's families without
treading fairly carefully. People's guide dogs fall into that arena whether we like
it or not. Even people's pets become part of people's families. I don't have to tell
you about pet wars and how intense they can get. It is not surprising that the
guide dog is sacrosanct to its owner. 
     People spend a difficult month training with the dogs. People spend a
year adjusting to the dog. People go through old age indirectly each time a dog
grows old. People go through the pain of loss each time their guide dog dies,
and they go through periods of readjustment each time they acquire a new
guide dog. People deal with discrimination against their use of a guide dog and
learn to battle it out, if necessary, to make sure that their rights are upheld, and
you wonder why this topic is sacrosanct? Take it from me, it will always be that
way, and to deal with it indelicately will cause harm to the Federation. I don't
want that to happen. 
     Your letter contains six areas of concentration. They are: 1. "Role of the
Division"; 2. "Drawbacks"; 3. "Saying Canes Don't Work"; 4. "Avoidance"; 5.
"Propaganda"; 6. "Mythologizing Dogs." I will try to deal with each one
separately. 

The Role of the Division
     According to the constitution of the National Association of Guide Dog
Users, the purpose of the association is to promote understanding through
education of the general public; to establish and maintain a forum through which
discussion about guide dogs--their training, their care, their behavior--may be
shared among guide-dog users; to work cooperatively with and provide
consultation to guide-dog schools; and to work constructively within the
framework of the National Federation of the Blind to strengthen equality,
opportunity, and security for all blind persons. 
     You write that "The Division is slowly drifting away from the Federation."
You bolster this contention by writing that the drifting away from the Federation
has something to do with the choices made by Division members. You imply
that these choices are negative because they involve behavior which advocates
for the use of guide dogs for independent mobility. You write that this is wrong
because "the Federation is not an organization advocating particular choices for
blind persons." If it is not an organization advocating for particular choices for
blind persons, then it is an organization which advocates for a variety of choices
for blind persons, provided that these choices lead to independence.
     I do not believe that all divisions are required to advocate for all
techniques of independence. If that were the situation, the role of the Divisions
would simply be one of dividing people into convenient clusters for
management purposes. The Divisions are not equivalent clusters of people, all
playing the same role in the Federation. Divisions were intended to have very
distinct roles. The overarching principles in all the divisions are that (a) it is
respectable to be blind; (b) with training and opportunity, blindness can be
reduced to the level of a nuisance; (c) blindness can be thought of as a
characteristic; and (d) given opportunity and training, blind people can compete
on terms of equality with their sighted peers.
     If the Divisions hold to their principles in their respective activities, they
cannot stray from the founding principles of the Federation. In the National
Association of Guide Dog Users, we have been given a mandate to promote an
understanding of guide-dog usage to the general public. As far as I'm concerned
the general public includes the people who do not use guide dogs. Most of
these people are sighted, but some are blind. 
     One objective of the Division is to help people understand all that is
required in using and caring for a guide dog. The responsibilities cannot be
underestimated. The fact that the dog exists as a living animal, which thinks and
feels, must also always be taken into account at all times. These requirements
and responsibilities can seem daunting for those who are exploring the
possibility of using a guide dog or for those who are new guide-dog handlers.
This is why one of the roles of the Division is "to establish and maintain a forum
through which discussion about guide dogs--their training, their care, their
behavior--may be shared among guide-dog users." 
     It would be self-defeating for the Division to talk only about
responsibilities, animal management, and discrimination problems. It is perfectly
proper for the Division to discuss the benefits of using a guide dog. Those of us
who use guide dogs do believe that there are benefits. Otherwise, we would not
be working with a guide dog. It is our responsibility to share these benefits with
those who are interested.
     You suggest that in our publications and Division meetings there is more
discussion about using dogs than about blindness. Well, there are lots of ways
to use dogs. There are police dogs, rescue dogs, narcotics dogs, tracking dogs,
hunting dogs, sled dogs, racing dogs, guard dogs, and probably other uses for
dogs which I can't think of. We do not discuss these uses at our Division
meetings or in our publications. We discuss dogs in terms of their use as guide
dogs because guide dogs are used by only one class of people--namely, blind
people. Surely there is a relation to blindness here. Again, our mandate requires
that we "establish and maintain a forum through which discussion about guide
dogs--their training, their care, their behavior--may be shared among guide-dog
users." Is there something more that you wanted to say here? Did you want the
Division to discuss guide dogs in terms of the image of blindness created by the
"guiding dog?" This would be a welcome topic, and I urge you to write about it.
It could be contentious because we are dealing with much more than a tool
here, but this type of discussion could be very fruitful, if handled with delicacy.
     You write that "the Division should be helping its members sort out their
feelings about blindness in the face of the sighted public's attitude about dogs."
I couldn't agree with you more! With respect to misguided statements by the
public which unwittingly infantilize guide-dog handlers, you write: "Of course, all
of us deal with these occurrences. But I have not seen positive suggestions
from fellow dog users about how to deal with these problems in the Division's
newsletter or in Divisional meetings." Perhaps you could write a single-purpose
article about this particular issue. Or, if you like, I am quite prepared to reprint
the portions of your letter that deal with this issue. It is a very important issue. I
tried to deal with it in the Spring issue of the latest Harness Up. A whole lot
more needs to be done with it. It is a problem that is not likely ever to go away
until there is a significant improvement in public information about the
capabilities of blind people and how blind people interact with guide dogs. The
Division can certainly work to improve the public's understanding of blindness
and guide dogs, and you can help us do it. 

Drawbacks
     Your section on drawbacks could be an article on its own. It certainly
provides material for debate in Harness Up. But of course, given the nature of
the publication and its audience, the tone of such a discussion and its purpose
must be kept in mind. I'm not sure what you're trying to do here. Are you
suggesting that people who do not use guide dogs should think very seriously
about using one because they are a lot of trouble and not worth the price? Are
you suggesting that people who use guide dogs now abandon that visual aid in
favor of the cane because the cane is more convenient and efficient? Are you
suggesting that people who use guide dogs and find them convenient would
become more aware of their drawbacks if they were better cane travelers and
were freer to choose between the two types of travel? 
     There are all kinds of travel methods that have serious drawbacks. Yet, we
use them anyway because we believe that their advantages outweigh their
drawbacks. Drivers in automobiles cause traffic accidents and pollution. Planes
sometimes crash. They cause noise pollution, and now we hear that breathing
inside the cabin is hazardous to your health because the ventilation is poor. But
of course, the alternative is the horse and buggy or the bicycle or even walking.
I remember when I used to complain about my mother's driving. She used to
say, "You can always get out and walk." I never did. Mobility methods must be
weighed in terms of their alternatives.
     I can think of drawbacks to using a guide dog that are much more serious
than the ones you mentioned. The worst one is that guide dogs get old and
need to be replaced. The replacement process is time-consuming and
emotionally difficult. For those who are not able to train their own guide dogs,
there is another serious drawback. You must rely on somebody else to train the
animal, and if something goes wrong, oftentimes you're not in a position to fix it
yourself. Many car owners have experienced similar kinds of situations dealing
with their mechanics. We hear of many people who spend thousands of dollars
to get a car fixed, to no avail. At some point, they have to accept the fact that
they got a lemon or that the mechanic was incompetent. Every guide-dog school
sometimes produces a "lemon" dog. The problem is that without experience,
there is no way of knowing in advance that the dog which will be assigned to
you is a lemon, until you are well into the training program or until you've gone
home with the dog. Even people who train their own dogs and who are
experienced at selecting puppies can make mistakes. I am sure that it is not
pleasant to have to give up on a puppy. How about dogs who must retire early
in their careers because they get sick? That's a serious drawback. You know
that I know all about that one with Viva! Losing a dog like Viva is no picnic--let
me tell you! 
     So, given all of the potential pitfalls, why do people use guide dogs? To
me, it's kind of like asking why people get married or have children, given all the
potential problems associated with spouses and children. I suppose it's like this:
When it's good, the interaction can be very, very good--but when it's bad, it can
be awful! People who use guide dogs, given their own particular circumstances,
find it generally advantageous to work with dogs in most mobility situations. If
they didn't, they wouldn't be willing to deal with all the potential problems. 
     On an individual basis, the day-to-day requirements of leash-relieving and
scheduling are routine. Almost everybody in any job has a lunch break at some
point. Guide dogs can be conveniently leash-relieved during that lunch break. I
can't see that a guide dog's bathroom habits need interfere with the person's
work schedule at all unless the dog is sick. Almost every working situation has
provisions for sick leave, and taking a dog out a few extra times isn't going to
cause anybody any significant problems. In all my years of teaching, I've had to
take a dog out during class maybe two or three times. It related to a particular
problem with the dog food we were using. 
     You talk about guide-dog problems as being unrelated to blindness
problems. That is a false dichotomy. It implies that those who use guide dogs
wouldn't have to if they all knew how to use canes and were comfortable with
them. But that's not true. There are people who are very comfortable using the
white cane who still prefer to use a guide dog, with all the problems associated
with it. I am one of them. People like me believe that there are definite mobility
advantages to using a visual aid such as a guide dog. This is not a put-down of
the cane or of people who use canes. It is not a put-down of their competence
in mobility. There are some very specific skills associated with good cane travel
in all situations. They are valuable skills to have, and ideally every blind person
should possess them. Working with a guide dog also involves very specific
skills. I am very glad I have those skills, and I believe that those skills are worth
having, for those who wish to learn them. Those skills buy you canine vision to
use at your disposal. Canine vision is useful to work with because it provides
the dog with information about layout. You can use the information about layout
that the dog picks up quickly if you know how to interact with the dog.
     You write that "Dog users can get into the habit of not encountering the
world to their detriment." Well, in principle there is nothing that would prevent a
guide-dog user from using a cane to make contact with objects as he or she
walked along. Of course, most people use guide dogs because they want to be
able to walk without having to make contact with objects. For myself, through
echo location I hear a stream of auditory information as I walk along. When I am
outside, buildings, openings, hedges, parked cars, traffic patterns, poles, trees,
and fences are all evident to me as I walk along. When I am inside, walls,
openings, and the presence of display counters are also evident to me. When
my dog goes around things, I usually know why he is doing it. I can tell that
there are things there that need to be avoided. People who don't have enough
echo-locating skills to understand why the dog is doing what it's doing, will feel
less in control and will be less able to keep the dog on track. Your suggestion
that people who are not able to take advantage of the information around them
would be better served by canes is correct. My opinion is that in order to handle
a dog correctly you must be aware of the information around you. 
     You mention about getting entangled in a leash. Your tone suggests that if
there weren't a leash there, attached to a dog being used by a person, you
wouldn't have gotten entangled. The world is full of pitfalls, and it's up to you to
keep out of them!
     You write that guide dogs "aren't responsible for where we are going and
how to get there." In a sense, guide dogs are not responsible for anything.
People are responsible for maintaining, applying, and enhancing the training
inculcated in the dogs. However, most bright guide dogs can be expected to do
more than obey directional commands. If that's all they could learn to do
beyond avoiding obstacles, their value would be considerably diminished. Guide
dogs recognize places and remember routes taken within large expanses. Some
dogs are so good that one or two exposures are sufficient for learning. This skill
is valuable in a large hotel, particularly if you're going to be there for a week. If
you have a good guide dog, and if you can get the dog on the general right
track to an area, the dog can work out the particulars if it figures out that you're
going to a place that it's been to before, even if it's been only once or twice.
People vary considerably in how much they are willing to experiment with their
dogs, but I like to do it a lot because I am fascinated by how much dogs can
learn. My experience has been that good dogs can see the detail in layout that I
often forget. I come to know the detail after we've been in a particular area
several times, but the dog sees it and recognizes it, often the second time
around. That's what's great about good guide dogs! They don't all do it as well
as the best, but when you're good at working with the best, it's terrific!
     Therefore, I must disagree with you when you write that "Dog use is at its
optimum when the user goes to a very limited number of places and goes there
regularly." If anything, it's the other way around. Bright dogs get bored with
familiar routines. Some of them become lackadaisical in their work and need
breaks from the routine in order for the work to remain challenging. I would say
that cane use is easiest in familiar areas. Therefore, around my office building,
unless I'm going to class, I always use my cane, unless I've forgotten it at home.
It's simply too much work trying to get my dog to work quickly inside the
building. It's much faster with my cane. Schubert doesn't find the campus too
stimulating, either. He's at his best when we're traveling. 

Canes Don't Work
     You write "I want to mention one theme I constantly hear in the newsletter,
and in Division meetings, the theme that canes don't work." I find this sentence
peculiar, given that for the last two years we have invited people from the
centers as speakers at our Division meetings. Last year Arlene Hill, an expert
blind teacher of cane travel, was invited to discuss how she does her work
safely and competently. You write that people have said, "I'm not very good with
a cane. After I got my dog, I became much more mobile, and now I think
everyone should get a dog." I can't recall anyone's saying or writing "I think
everyone should get a dog." It is too personal a choice. You write further that
"every dog user I've ever heard comment on the subject states that he or she is
not very good with a cane." I don't think you've ever heard me say that. I may
have said that I prefer the dog over the cane, but I have never said that I'm not
very good with it. It is not true that just because someone chooses to use a
guide dog, it is necessarily the case that that person was not an excellent cane
user. It is also the case that an excellent guide-dog user could conceivably
choose to be a cane user. I have done it on several occasions and will probably
do it again in the next few years. Many considerations go into choosing a
primary travel method for a given period of time. 
     You write that "It's about time we stopped pretending that our own
inadequate cane skills set the standard." I don't think that the Division as a
whole does that, and if some people do, our complaints should really be
addressed to the general level of rehabilitation available to people rather than to
a small sample of guide-dog users. The tragedy is that, apart from our own NFB
training centers, there are no places where people can go to develop excellent
cane and travel skills and positive attitudes toward using the white cane. These
attitudes need not exclude positive attitudes toward using guide dogs. 
     You write, "I'm sick and tired of hearing dog users trash cane use and at
the same time hearing the same dog users react with anger and bitterness if a
cane user raises any question about the efficiency of dog use." You write,
"Canes do work. It's time dog users got that straight. It's time dog users quit
defending dog use by attacking someone else and started thinking through
blindness issues. It's much more fruitful." 
     These phrases are very antagonistic. They suggest that because guide-
dog users still use guide dogs despite the problems associated with them, they
necessarily have not thought through the negative impact that guide-dog use
may have on blindness. Your words also suggest that guide-dog users defend
the use of guide dogs by attacking cane users for their mode of travel. I don't
feel that happening within the Division. If anything, because of the accidents
we've had at convention, it's the other way around. You write, "Why can't we
discuss this one issue civilly when all other issues are open for fair and honest
talk?" You won't get a civil discussion of an issue when you accuse people of
attacking other people. The issue of travel techniques is a very emotional issue
for people. Any fruitful discussion will have to be done with care and sensitivity.
Those who will succeed at it will be those who are confident enough to put their
emotions aside. If emotions are part of the discussion, then we are dealing with
something much deeper, mainly the persona projected by people using various
travel techniques. That is a very intense topic and very hot because it addresses
people's projection to the world. Telling somebody you don't like how they
present themselves to the world is not going to gain you their favor. Any time we
deal with issues of presentation to the world, be it to do with people's
appearance or clothes or travel method, in the case of blind people, we must
tread very delicately. People are very sensitive in these areas, and it will always
be that way until people gain confidence within.   

Avoidance
     This section deals with what you call "Avoidance", a shying away from
dealing with and talking openly and honestly about blindness. You suggest that
people who write for Harness Up and the people who organize and attend
Division meetings have been avoiding dealing with blindness. Again, you cannot
dichotomize guide dogs and blindness. Discrimination against people who use
guide dogs is directly related to blindness. The training and use of guide dogs is
directly related to blindness. If there are other issues you wish to write about or
wish to discuss at the Division meetings, you are free to do so. You will not get
very far with people if you tell them that they are avoiding things and accuse
them of being obtuse, narrow-minded, and repressors. If you want to discuss
other issues, bring them up, or write about them. Don't bring them up by simply
accusing people of not doing what you think should be done. You will not win
friends in the Division that way. Your tone does not show respect for the people
you would change. People do not change for people they feel don't respect
them. 
     In my opinion, using a guide dog can offer some protection against
people's negative attitudes toward blindness. They think the dog is in charge,
and they're more likely to leave you alone. It's no great comfort, but at least it
keeps them away. I believe that it takes extra strength to deal with public
attitudes toward blindness in the raw. Using a cane puts you in direct contact
with these attitudes, and it takes a good deal of strength and self-confidence to
deal with them. A guide dog can be used as a shield, and I don't mind telling
you that that's one of the reasons I use one. There's nothing wrong with it,
provided you know what you're doing. There can be a lot right with it, too; on an
emotional level, it can make the day more enjoyable. Whether we use canes or
guide dogs, it is important that we improve public attitudes toward blindness.
     You suggest that in order to deal with feelings of inadequacy about
blindness directly, guide-dog users "become extra-super-strong on the subject
of dogs, insist on the superiority of dogs, and insist that opposing opinions or
choices are wrong." There may be an element of truth in what you say for some
people, but it is certainly not the whole story for most people. There are generic
merits in using a guide dog, and these merits must be highlighted by the
Division. We must not allow them to be dissolved in psychodynamic processes
related to repression about blindness. 
     There is an interesting assumption in what you write. The assumption is
that if you are dealing with mobility through the use of a guide dog, you are not
dealing with your feelings about blindness directly. On the other hand, the
assumption is that if you are dealing with mobility through the use of a white
cane, you are dealing with your feelings about blindness more directly. It is not
the technique that matters here. It is easy enough to learn to walk with a white
cane, and even to cross streets with it. It is much more difficult to learn to deal
with the public's attitude toward the white cane. If the idea is that if you learn to
survive that, then you can learn to survive anything, then I suppose that learning
to be comfortable with the white cane is the acid test for testing one's positive
attitudes toward blindness. But is that the only route to positive attitudes toward
blindness? If that were the case, then we would have to suggest that older
people who find it more convenient to travel with sighted spouses could never
really attain positive attitudes toward blindness. I don't think that that's fair to the
many people who have contributed in significant ways to the Federation and yet,
left on their own, would not have the confidence to travel independently. They
see a variety of travel techniques available to people; they respect each one of
them; and they choose the one that suits them best. For the time being, they
choose to travel with their spouses because that is what they find most
convenient for them. Later on, should things change, they know that other
options are available.
     Of course, ideally everyone should be able to travel with a white cane.
This is so because this means that the person can move freely through the
world without any extra being. It is very important to have that kind of
confidence. 
     However, it is not necessarily the case that people who use guide dogs do
not have a thorough understanding of blindness and the public's attitude toward
it. Further, just because you champion the merits of using a guide dog, that
doesn't mean that your image of blindness and your understanding of it is
flawed. People are at various stages and at various levels in their evolution on
their blindness journey. My own opinion is that feeling comfortable and solid
about the white cane is important, but for some people the opportunity of
working with a guide dog may be a beneficial option, as well. To thwart that
opportunity, or any other opportunity with positive value to it, is wrong.

Propaganda
     The term propaganda has very negative connotations. Guide-dog schools
have a product to sell--namely, guide dogs. In the Federation we have a
philosophy of blindness to sell. Each organization has a right to distribute the
kind of information that best suits its product. The product produced by guide-
dog schools is not inimical to blind people. For most blind people who use
guide dogs, the product from the guide-dog schools has been very helpful.
Therefore, given the needs of our membership in the Division, and the general
good quality of guide dogs produced by the guide-dog schools, the term
propaganda is out of place in this context. 
     It seems so strange to find this tone in your communications given that
you received an excellent guide dog from Guide Dogs for the Blind. Is there any
sense of gratitude left in you for the amount of work which was put into that dog
and the amount of work which was put into teaching you how to use him?
Becoming more aware of one's capacities as a blind person should not breed
ingratitude. It is extremely distasteful to see this in an old friend. 
     Of course, it is true that the guide dog schools have their own slant on
blindness, which is somewhat different from ours. They tend to emphasize blind
people's dependence on the dogs much more than we do. I agree with you that
our publication should set the tone about blindness which is best suited to our
purposes. However, Bill Isaacs did not always receive material to publish from
our own Division members. Often he published what he could get his hands on.
As you know, Mary Ellen and I are the new editors of Harness Up. We hope to
receive more material from you which will illustrate the way you feel about your
blindness and your guide dog.

Mythologizing Dogs
     This section of your letter is the trickiest and the most challenging to write
about. It relates to the public's tendency to overestimate the dog's importance
and the tendency on the part of some blind people to underestimate their own
importance in the interaction between the guide dog and the blind handler. 
     It is impossible to dictate to people the feelings they should have about
their guide dogs. Most of us value our dogs very much, and we all have our own
ways of expressing that. You take issue with the lady who wrote that "she often
thinks about all the dangers her dog has protected her from that she doesn't
even know about." Maybe the lady's choice of words was a little melodramatic.
For the most part, the world is not all that dangerous. There are steps and
obstacles and the very occasional excavation, and then there's traffic. Traffic is
usually easy to deal with, particularly in an urban setting. We normally do not
have to deal with dangers such as hurricanes and tornadoes, attacks by savage
people or animals, lightning strikes, or sudden explosions. Some of us are faced
with some of these dangers occasionally, but they are not the norm. So for this
lady, steps and obstacles and occasional excavations and traffic are all dangers.
It is too bad that she perceives the world as such a dangerous place, but you
can't tell her not to; and it is easy to understand how she would value her dog,
given that the dog helps her deal with changes in layout and traffic that she
perceives as dangerous. 
     I don't know how you instill in a person a sense of confidence in being
able to deal with the everyday clutter and changes which occur in the average
environment. Maybe extensive training in the use of the white cane is the best
approach here. After all, the cane is such a basic tool, and it is under the
complete control of the user. Maybe mastering this form of mobility can bring
about a feeling that the environment is not a dangerous place. 
     However, guide dogs do get us through a lot of clutter of which we are
not always completely aware. Often you know you're avoiding things, but you
don't know quite what they are. Maybe this is what the lady was marveling
about, as well. I find it marvelous, too! I don't need to make contact with the
cane with every wheelbarrow or bicycle or garbage can or pole along the way to
make my life interesting. I can do without these encumbrances as I walk along,
and my guide dog helps me do that. I am sure I am not aware of many of the
obstructions we have avoided. It doesn't make me any less aware of where I am
and where I am going. 
     You write that she is "the one who is supposed to be making decisions,
based on information she gets from the dog. The dog is not supposed to be
making decisions." Maybe your definition of a decision is different from mine;
but when a dog steps to the left so that you don't bump into a tree, that's a
decision, and it is a decision that the dog has made first. That's what the dog is
supposed to do. You feel the effect of the dog's decision, and you say to
yourself, "We're avoiding something." Now, of course, if the swerves seem
inappropriate to you, you step in and say to yourself, "This dog is distracted.
The decisions it's making don't make any sense." You tell the dog to "Cut it out!
Stop it! No!" Most of the time you're right, but have you ever been wrong? Have
you ever had to swallow humble pie? We've all been wrong occasionally, and
the great thing about dogs is that most of them don't hold grudges. I guess
they're not smart enough for that, or is it something else? 

Conclusion
     You end your letter by stating that "My purpose in writing this letter is to
challenge the Federation, both dog users and non-users, to begin to think
through these issues calmly and openly and using our human ability to reason."
This is a little ostentatious, don't you think? Do you mean to suggest that people
have not even begun to think through some of these issues? I urge you to deal
with issues, one or two at a time per article. Relate them to your own life. Help
people learn from your own experiences. People do not learn very well if they
are made to believe that the experiences they value are wrong, inadequate, or
misperceived. 
     I am sure that there is no gentle way to end this letter. It hasn't been a
gentle letter, but neither was yours. This is not tit-for-tat. I did the best I could. 

                                             Yours in friendship,
                                                      Paul Gabias


[Photo #6 Ed and Toni Eames and their guide dogs sit outside of their home. Caption: Ed Eames
and Echo, Toni Eames and Escort]

                 ON CANES, CANINES, AND THE NFB
                      by Ed and Toni Eames

     You have just been informed by your ophthalmologist that your sight loss
is permanent and irreversible. As you deal with the emotional distress of coming
to terms with blindness, you begin to plan for the future. In coping with
blindness you will need to master techniques that will provide independence and
improve the quality of your life. Among these techniques are those dealing with
daily living, Braille, and mobility.
     As a dog lover, the thought of working with a guide dog is appealing.
However, members of the local blind support group you've just joined believe
there is little value in working with a canine assistant. In addition, your cane-
mobility instructor has little knowledge about guide dogs and is obviously
biased toward the use of a white cane.
     Is this scenario as familiar to you as it is to us?

Early Experiences
     Toni
     As a congenitally blind person, Toni was discouraged by school and
rehabilitation authorities from considering training with a guide dog. A constantly
heard theme was that only the most dependent blind people used this form of
mobility. Adelphi University, where she did her undergraduate work, refused to
permit blind students with guide dogs to live in the dormitories. Toni did not
challenge this discriminatory policy since she did not realize the advantages of
working with a guide dog. 
     Only after meeting a competent guide-dog user did Toni's thoughts turn
toward the benefits and advantages of working with this alternative to the white
cane. Her dual conversion to guide dog partner and advocate occurred in
March, 1967, when she trained with Charm, her first guide dog. She refers to this
transition as B.C., before Charm, and A.D., after Dog. Before Charm, she lacked
confidence and had difficulty advocating on her own behalf. After Dog, Toni
became self-assured and began to speak out for her rights. She refused to allow
school authorities, restaurant owners, theater managers, and taxi drivers to deny
access to her well-behaved, well-trained canine companion. 
     Toni's first major A.D. battle came when Hunter College authorities put her
on notice that she would not be permitted to register for graduate school
classes if accompanied by her guide dog. With the collusion of the chairman of
the rehabilitation counseling department, she followed the letter of the edict and
left Charm in the chairman's office during registration. Although Charm
accompanied her to class for the next two years, Toni remained wary of the
phantom administrative official who might suddenly appear and challenge her
right to attend classes.
     Despite Charm's exemplary behavior in class and Toni's growing feeling
of confidence, two professors in the rehabilitation counseling program
continued to proclaim the widely held belief that competent blind people did not
use guide dogs. Such attitudes and beliefs die hard. People who hold these
views do not understand how a guide dog works. They view the situation as one
of helplessness in which the blind person is totally dependent upon the guiding
capabilities of the dog. They do not recognize that it is an interdependent
relationship based upon teamwork.
     As part of her graduate work, Toni had to serve a one-year internship. The
professor in charge of the intern program, one of the two mentioned above, was
committed to the belief that blind students could only be placed in agencies
serving a blind clientele. When Toni and the other blind interns objected to this
narrow-minded view, the professor's defense was that the program did not see
its mission as one of crusading on behalf of disabled students. As a result, Toni
did her internship at the Queens Lighthouse.
     Lighthouse policy on guide dogs was extremely restrictive at that time.
Only staff members with private offices could keep their dogs with them.
Therefore, Toni was required to house Charm in the basement kennel. Toni
decided to challenge this archaic policy. Advocating for change, she appealed to
Lighthouse administrators and board members. Learning of Toni's campaign,
the professor supervising the interns was furious and labeled Toni as
uncooperative and incapable of working within the established system.
Threatened with expulsion from the Rehabilitation Counseling Program, Toni
submitted to a series of psychological tests and evaluations. The threat of
expulsion was withdrawn when the external evaluators found no personality
abnormalities. Throughout this ordeal, Toni never wavered from her position that
Lighthouse policy was discriminatory and needed to be changed. Although her
advocacy efforts did not save Charm from unnecessary kenneling, the policy
was changed shortly after the completion of Toni's internship. 
     For Toni, who is a people person, Charm became a social ice breaker.
When she was using a cane at Adelphi, Toni felt socially isolated. It was difficult
to initiate conversation with people she could not see. At Hunter, with Charm as
her alter ego, social interaction became easier. Toni did not have to initiate
conversation; other people did. She never felt alone again with Charm at her
side, or later with Charm's successor. Standing on a subway platform or waiting
for a bus, she could touch or talk to her constant companion.
     Toni graduated in 1970 with a master's degree in rehabilitation counseling.
Now she faced the next hurdle in her assault on life, finding a job. For nine
months Toni interviewed for jobs, without success. Primary concerns of
potential employers centered around how a blind person could function in the
job setting and how the disabled clientele would respond to the presence of a
guide dog. Underlying these concerns was the assumption that a blind person
could not be independent or adequately perform on the job.
     Her painful job search ended at Kings Park Psychiatric Center on Long
island. Rather than being asked about how she would negotiate a flight of stairs
in the building, Toni was asked about her theories of counseling and how she
would work with a psychiatric population. Toni was so pleasantly surprised at
the non-patronizing direction of the interview, she felt confident she had the job.
     Unlike other employers, her new supervisor saw the presence of a dog on
his staff as an asset in working with the mentally ill. Thus, Charm added a new
dimension to her career as guide. She now became a pet therapist. Under Toni's
direction, patients had the opportunity to benefit from the soothing effect of
interacting with a dog. For many patients this provided an opportunity to reduce
stress and feel more comfortable in counseling sessions.
     Realizing that working with a canine teammate opened many avenues
beyond mobility, Toni used her love of dogs to extend her friendship network.
She joined the Long Island Golden Retriever Club and, 25 years later, remains in
contact with several fellow club members. She began studying dog behavior and
became involved in the hobby of competing in American Kennel Club obedience
competition. 
     Toni's commitment to guide dog partnership led her to establish a local
support group advocating for greater access and educating other blind people
about the benefits of this form of mobility. Working for these goals, she visited
many guide-dog schools, got to know many trainers, and acquired considerable
knowledge about the guide-dog movement. Little did she know this avocation
would lead to marriage and a change of career.

     Ed
     At the age of forty-two Ed was diagnosed with retinitis pigmentosa and
told by his ophthalmologist to prepare for eventual blindness. Rehabilitation
services provided cane mobility lessons prior to a year-long field trip to India,
where he would carry out anthropological research. However, travel conditions
in India were not conducive to independent mobility by a newly trained cane
user. Feeling inadequate and insecure, Ed looked forward to returning to the
United States. Although Ed never owned a pet and did not consider himself a
dog lover, he felt a guide dog might help restore his lost travel confidence. In
the course of rehabilitation he had met several guide-dog users and was
impressed with their confidence and ability to get around. 
     In 1981 a black Labrador named Perrier entered Ed's life. Ed thought he
was simply going to train with a more effective mobility aid and had no inkling of
the impact this dog would have on his future. Perrier handled his job of guiding
Ed on trains, subways, and buses with ease as they traveled from their home in
Philadelphia to Ed's office at Baruch College in Manhattan. Ed marveled at the
ease with which they avoided obstacles and negotiated the crowded streets of
the city. Before Perrier, traveling this route was nerve-wracking and stressful. As
the cane came in contact with obstacles, Ed had to figure out what they were
and how to get around them. Although key obstacles can be important
landmarks for blind travelers, a route full of barriers can provide an overload of
unnecessary information. Trying to move safely through noisy railroad stations
and construction sites can be disorienting. Having a dependable, sighted guide
dog who could locate an open train door in a noisy station and, despite the
noise of drilling crews, pick out the safest path through an area under
construction, converted potentially dangerous situations into mere nuisances.
     Professors are always seeking new areas of interest for research and
publication, and Ed was no exception. As the relationship with Perrier
blossomed, Ed increasingly identified the advantages of partnership with a guide
dog. Questions began churning around in his mind. Why do some people opt for
working with guide dogs? On what basis do people select particular training
programs? Does having a guide dog help or hinder employment prospects?
How do training programs select canine and student applicants? What are the
advantages and disadvantages of working with a guide dog? 
     Obviously, these burning issues required immediate research and could
only be adequately addressed in a book! Ed's research brought him face to face
with a variety of blindness-related issues that pushed him toward the
assumption of an advocacy role.For many people who become blind in
middle age, life may seem to be a never-ending tragedy. However, most of us
get past that stage and, with proper training in the techniques of coping with
blindness, resume active and productive lives. For Ed, blindness was a turning
point. It led to getting Perrier, researching the book on guide dogs, and
ultimately meeting Toni. Initially she was a consultant on the book, then co-
author, and eventually his wife. At their wedding in June, 1987, Perrier was ring
bearer, and Toni's guide Ivy was maid of honor.

Getting Together 
     After marriage Ed took early retirement and Toni left her position at Kings
Park. We moved to Fresno, California, where we created an entirely new lifestyle.
Living and working with dogs became the impetus for the development of new
careers. We also became active members of the NFB at the national, state, and
local levels.
     In an earlier article originally published in the JOB Bulletin, we described
the impact of an NFB Writers Division seminar on the promotion of our careers
as professional writers. For the past five years we have been writing a monthly
column, Partners in Independence, for Dog World magazine, the largest
circulation dog magazine in the country. In writing this column, we have
expanded our field of interest to include hearing dogs for deaf and hard-of-
hearing people, and service dogs for people with physical disabilities. 
     Through the dog connection, we have become involved in several animal-
related organizations. We have presented seminars at the Delta Society,
Assistance Dogs International, the World Congress of Kennel Clubs, and the
England-based Circle of Guide Dog Owners. In 1993, seeing the need for an
organization empowering disabled people who work with canine assistants, we
helped create the International Association of Assistance Dog Partners. 
     Another facet of our emerging dog-related career has been the education
of veterinarians. Our lecture tours have brought us to ten of the 27 American
veterinary schools and several professional veterinary conferences. We have
been asked to inaugurate a new feature in the Journal of the American
Veterinary Medical Association dealing with the human/animal bond. We were
instrumental in working with the AVMA in the writing of a brochure concerning
the needs of disabled clients. 
     In 1994 we completed the revision of our book, A Guide to Guide Dog
Schools. Our goal was to update information contained in the 1986 version and
to expand the coverage by including Canadian and newly established American
schools. Although we are committed to the advantages of guide-dog
partnership, we describe the less attractive aspects of living and working with
dogs. Dog partnership is a major responsibility which should not be undertaken
lightly. Caring for dogs takes time and costs money. Attending conferences,
traveling, and scheduling daily activities require consideration of the dog's
physical and emotional needs. The cost of dog food and veterinary care can
take a significant bite out of a limited income. For us, none of these issues
outweighs the benefits derived from living and working with canine assistants.
Guide dogs provide love and companionship, as well as the security of stress-
free mobility.

The NFB and Guide Dogs
     Since moving to Fresno eight years ago and becoming active in NFB (Toni
is President and Ed is Treasurer of the Fresno chapter), we have frequently
heard that the leadership of the national organization is anti-guide dog. This
prejudice is most apparent at our national conventions and at our rehabilitation
centers.
     We are told that NFB's attractive hotel room rates are being jeopardized
by members who travel to conventions with guide dogs. Although some dog
users are careless or unaware of their dogs' behavior, the problems generated
by these few seem to be blown way out of proportion. Shortly after the Dallas
Convention we spent several hours at the Dallas airport during a long layover.
We ran into one of the Hyatt managers and discussed the hotel's reaction to the
presence of a large number of guide dogs. He recalled one or two incidents of
dogs defecating in the hotel but indicated the dogs did not create an undue
burden for hotel staff. Comparing NFB conventions with those of psychiatrists,
surgeons, and some fraternal organizations, the manager said these other
groups are much more destructive of hotel property and taxing to hotel
personnel. People who spill wine on carpets, smokers who burn holes in
furniture, and children who draw pictures on hotel walls are far more of a
problem than dogs who have occasional indiscretions on carpets. This manager
would gladly welcome another NFB convention at his hotel. 
     Could it be when one dog has an accident it may be observed by 20
different people? Could it also be these 20 people tell others about what they
have seen or stepped in and a single incident gets translated into 20 separate
incidents? Further, could it be that inflation, rather than the behavior of our
guide dogs, has caused room rates to rise? 
     Although we support the NFB view that blind people should be
independently mobile, we do not support the position that the only avenue
toward this independence is the use of the long cane. There is general
agreement that the essential elements in independent mobility are the ability to
go where you want, when you want. Despite this agreement, it is apparent that
NFB does not view use of a guide dog as an equivalent alternative. We are
dismayed that our NFB rehabilitation centers define independent travel
exclusively as the competent use of the long cane. Previously acquired skill in
working with a guide dog is totally discounted. By denying competent guide-dog
users their choice of mobility, NFB centers are discriminating against those who
have already acquired specific mobility skills. The emphasis on independence
through mastering cane skills combined with the denial of the significance of
mastering guide-dog skills restricts the range of choice open to students in
these programs.Another example of the way in which NFB devalues guide
dogs is the lack of equivalence accorded to this form of mobility in
proclamations. Each year we are encouraged to request white cane safety day
proclamations from local and state officials. For years we, as co-chairs of the
NFB of California Guide Dog Committee, have advocated for inclusion of guide
dogs in these public pronouncements. Although a model proclamation giving
equal weight to guide dogs and canes was published several years ago in the
Monitor, the NFB Board has not chosen to incorporate this change as policy.

The NFB, Guide Dogs, and Us 
     Shortly after we joined the NFB, Sharon Gold, President of NFB of
California, asked us to co-chair the California Guide Dog Committee. For the last
five years we have been working with her on a variety of legislative matters. 
     One of our earliest legislative victories was changing the legal definition of
"guide dog" to include dogs trained outside the State of California as well as
privately trained guide dogs. In 1993 we were able to secure passage of a bill
that tripled the penalty for denying access to a blind person accompanied by a
guide dog to any public accommodation. Minimum penalties were increased
from $250 to $750. This law also provides greater protection for our dogs from
injury caused by a person or a dog that is supposed to be under the control of a
person. Although we have not been able to eliminate the State Board of Guide
Dogs for the Blind (see Braille Monitor, January 1991), we have been able to
eliminate the state funds which financed its operation. Now the Board is
financed by the three guide dog training programs in the state, and its pretense
of being a consumer protection agency has been shattered.
     In fact, Ed's former guide, Kirby, was instrumental in getting one of our
pieces of legislation out of committee and onto the assembly floor. Ed was
having breakfast in the Capitol when a man approached and began talking about
Golden Retrievers. Ed invited him to take a seat as they drank their coffee.
During the course of conversation and introductions, Ed learned he was
speaking with the very assemblyman who could carry the vote for NFB in the
judiciary committee. Taking advantage of this opportunity, Ed advocated for our
bill and gained his support.
     At National Conventions we have fostered several resolutions putting NFB
on record as opposed to certain paternalistic policies practiced by many guide-
dog schools. When our resolution on ownership of guide dogs was endorsed by
NFB, only the Seeing Eye provided real ownership to its graduates. Now, half the
schools have followed the Seeing Eye's and NFB's lead. Although our resolution
on the prohibition of begging in guide-dog school contracts was somewhat
divisive, we were pleased the NFB endorsed our recommendation. No one wants
to foster the image of the blind beggar, but it was recognized that prohibiting
the use of a guide dog while begging was an intrusion into the employment
rights of blind people.
     As a recruiter of Members-at-large (Associates), Toni's successful fund
raising is closely linked to working with guide dogs. Strangers often approach
us wanting to talk about dogs, theirs and ours. Some guide-dog users resent
these approaches as intrusive. We see them as attempts to make contact with
us. Guide dogs, as we all know, are social ice breakers. As guide-dog users, we
have learned to control our dogs and the social situation. If we are not in a hurry
and someone wants to chat or pet our dogs, we put our dogs at a sit/stay, and
they have to remain still while getting petted or while we engage in conversation.
These transitory social encounters provide the opportunity to educate people
about blindness and, in the process, about the National Federation of the Blind.
These casual encounters precipitated by the presence of the dogs has enabled
Toni to be one of the top ten Associate recruiters for the NFB.
     From the preceding discussion it might be concluded that our primary
focus is on guide-dog rather than blindness issues. From our perspective the
two are inextricably intertwined. Only blind people are partnered with guide
dogs. Like the white cane, the guide dog is an overt symbol of blindness. It
might even be suggested that guide dogs are more obvious representations of
blindness since canes are more easily stowed away out of sight. 
     For us, advocating for the rights of guide dog users is advocating for the
rights of all blind people. We join our brothers and sisters in fighting for their
rights to maintain SSI and SSDI, to profit from their vending operations, to have
their children adequately educated, and to obtain access to new technology. All
these subgroups or divisions are special-interest groups, but their battles, their
problems, their fight against discrimination are the fights of all of us. In the same
vein we see our fight for the rights of guide-dog users as a fight on behalf of all
blind people.


[Photo #7 This is a picture of a man by a water cooler giving his dog a drink. Caption: It was an
outdoor barbecue at the NFB Convention, but the dog was not neglected.  He is shown here
getting a drink from a cup.]

                 GUIDE DOGS AND NFB CONVENTIONS
                        by Bill J. Isaacs

     This article is written primarily for guide-dog users. It is important,
however, for white-cane users and sighted persons to understand the
mechanics and problems that guide-dog users are confronted with when they
bring their dogs to a convention. Some would say, "Why don't you leave your
dog at home?" 
     Others say, "I would not allow my dog to undergo the rigors and
punishment of a week-long convention." 
     I would submit that a guide dog and his master are a working unit. If they
work out regularly, they become essentially one as a team. Neither the dog nor
its master feels complete without the other, at least for any extended period of
time. No one can take the place of the master in understanding the needs of a
guide dog. The two, in verbal or body language, communicate constantly one to
the other. No matter how close a member of the family or a friend might be to
your guide dog, that person cannot possibly understand all the little nuances
which pass back and forth between the owner and his dog. After all, a trained
guide dog worth thousands of dollars is very much a precision instrument which
becomes even more finely tuned and valuable with age and miles of useful
service.
     For instance, while taking an extended trip to museums and old historical
sites in New England, I left my guide dog, Cliqo, in Toledo, Ohio, with the family
which had raised her as a puppy. I thought that would be the most suitable
arrangement that could possibly be made. By the end of the first week she had
stopped eating. By the end of the second week she was becoming ill. By the
end of third week I had to give up my trip and return home early. For several
weeks thereafter Cliqo was very listless. The spark had gone from her eyes, and
her constant playfulness of former days was not there. Furthermore, the
morning we left her at the puppy-raiser home, it was thundering and lightning
and was a horrible rainy day. Somehow at three and a half years of age, she
became terribly frightened of thunder. For the rest of her eleven and one-half
years, she became emotionally hysterical at the first sound of distant thunder. I
believe with all my heart that she associated thunder with abandonment. This
made it difficult for me to use Cliqo during stormy weather.
     Here is a very recent example where one member of my family, who knew
all of my three guide dogs well, did not fully comprehend my relationship with
my new guide dog, Prince. Prince, of course, is my new Leader dog, a standard
white poodle, who was the talk of the NFB Convention in Chicago. This
individual kept wanting to tell me, "Go to the right," or "Go to the left," because
there was a cart or a potted tree just ahead. I had to remind that person more
than once that it was the dog's duty to maneuver around those obstacles. If the
master tells the dog too many things like that to do, he would begin to suspect
that you did not need him to guide you. After all, how would I know those things
were in the way if I were alone with my dog? The guide dog's training can be
broken down if too much of his initiative is superseded by his master or
mistress. Despite the fact that perhaps a thousand persons touched Prince
during the convention, he did a fine job. He had no accidents. He did bark
occasionally at first when strange dogs approached him. He never did bark
while guiding, but only while heeling or in a stationary position. The barking is
still a nuisance, which I would like to eliminate.
     I am certain there are some dog users who would prefer to stay at home
with their dog rather than to leave it behind while they attend a convention. I, for
one, certainly would not want to leave my dog for any extended period of time
again. Some persons, I am sure, have taken their guide dog to a convention and
had a bad experience; either the dog had an accident or someone poked it with
a cane or stepped on it in a crowded elevator. These things do happen, but
there are several precautionary steps which one can take to keep these
incidents to a minimum. My first two guide dogs, Clyde and Cliqo, have been to
a total of fourteen conventions. Each of these dogs has had at least one mishap
and has been punched with a cane or been stepped on a time or two. My third
dog, Prince, got punched with a cane at the 1995 Chicago Convention. These
dogs are rather tough and bounce back fairly quickly from a slight mishap. In
fact, once a guide dog has been punched or hit by a cane, it will become more
alert the next time it sees a cane approaching. I think the dog's emotional
turmoil over being left at home does more harm to your dog's psyche than the
few bumps and bruises he might receive at a convention. The emotional harm of
being abandoned or being separated would be of much more lasting damage, I
think. Learn from your dog's mishaps to be more understanding of its needs at a
crowded convention. Note when and under what circumstances the mishaps
take place, and don't be caught off guard the next time. Each dog has its own
little built-in computer and is apt to behave in pretty much the same way under
similar circumstances the next day or at the next convention. Each dog is
different, and one has to learn to make adjustments accordingly.
     The Illinois affiliate of the NFB did its best in the summer of 1988 to make
it convenient for relieving guide dogs without leaving the block on which the
hotel was located. In fact, providing you were in the East Tower of the Hyatt
Regency, you had only to walk forty or fifty feet outside the appropriate exit to
reach the necessary spot. I think this has been a good model for other
conventions to follow. In fact, all the National Conventions since that date have
had guide-dog relief stations within the same block as the hotel. In my
estimation this should always be so. It can be a bit scary to take your dog out at
midnight or at 4:00 or 5:00 in the morning in an unfamiliar downtown area, with
strange people lying across the walks or on park benches. I have had this
happen more than once. Most guide-dog schools have their parking station for
their dogs very close to the students' rooms, and I rather imagine that most of
us who have guide dogs take them only thirty or forty feet out the back door or
to the street in front, depending on the dog's training. Longer walks to nearby
parks or grassy places might be all right for the bold of heart and physically
strong, but it can be rather time-consuming when one needs to take the dog out
at least six times a day. One can miss much of the convention if he doesn't
succumb to sunstroke during the hot July weather, and, besides, many dogs
cannot wait for lengthy periods of time to reach distant locations to relieve
themselves. Masters must tell their dogs which directions to go. In times past,
some locations were almost impossible to find because there were no sidewalks
directly to the spot or the street crossings were unduly difficult to manipulate.
Dogs usually follow lines along a sidewalk, or grassy edges, or curbs. Where
one finds there is no grass, all paved parks, or zigzag crosswalks, it can be
quite a chore to walk three or four blocks and return to a hotel. It might seem
logical to a non-guide-dog user that a large grassy park would be an ideal place
to relieve dogs. Without identifiable landmarks, a park can become a labyrinth of
confusion. I have gotten lost or turned around on more than one occasion.
When you have a guide dog, you have to move around more than others. Dogs
not only have to be taken to relief spots, but they need much exercise in order
to be able to lie quietly for hours. For many dogs the relief stations need to be
used before the walking takes place. It is exceedingly helpful to have sighted
help when you first arrive at a new station. Exact directions are so essential in
getting your guide dog oriented quickly to its new surroundings. Blind persons
who are thoroughly oriented to the area can serve as mentors too.
     Here is a list of helpful hints that I have picked up along the way which I
would like to share with you:

1.   Carry two or three plastic baggies and Wash 'N' Dry packets on your
     person at all times. You then will be basically prepared for any accident
     that your dog might have anywhere. Always plan to clean up after your
     dog, even though you pay a fee for relief arrangements.

2.   Upon arrival at the hotel, immediately seek out the relief spot for guide
     dogs. It is well to take your dog there even before going to your room.
     The very fact that the dog knows where its parking station is relieves
     some of its anxieties.

3.   After entering your hotel room and acclimating yourself to its environment,
     take off the dog's harness and allow the dog to relax a little. I take a
     tennis ball and nylon bone along for this purpose. Then show the dog
     where its feeding station will be and perhaps give it some food and water.
     In some hotels bathrooms may be carpeted, so I would take some
     newspaper along or a piece of plastic to put under the dog's feeding dish.
     I use the same dish for both feeding and watering my dog. This saves a
     little space in your luggage. Then find an out-of-the-way place in the room
     which will serve as the dog's resting spot. All three of my guide dogs
     seemed to be restless and anxious in a new living environment until they
     felt assured there was a proper place for them in it. Again, this removes a
     little bit of tension.

4.   If your dog is accustomed to having water at its disposal at all times, I
     would suggest that you ration your dog's water for the first few days at a
     convention. Pressures of a convention, change of water, time changes,
     and the like can all upset your dog's regular relief pattern. When a dog is
     uptight and has drunk a lot of water, especially in the later afternoon or
     early evening, take it out within an hour no matter what its pattern has
     been earlier. The old saying "A stitch in time saves nine," is applicable
     here. I would rather take the few extra trips out than face the
     embarrassment of a wet carpet. Within a day or two the dog's regular
     pattern will probably be re-established.

5.   If your dog is used to running free around the house or in the office, I
     would suggest that you start tying it down more frequently a week or so
     before the convention. This will help to get your dog in shape for the long
     convention sessions, or crowded restaurants or hotel rooms.

6.   Anticipate your dog's needs ahead of time. Don't wait until it is prancing
     or panting heavily before arranging to take it out. You may have to walk
     half a block to the elevator and wait some more to get the elevator. I
     personally would much prefer taking my dog out ahead of schedule rather
     than risking an accident along the way because of my own tardiness. The
     same holds true in the convention hall. Don't wait until the last minute to
     leave during the great rush when there's no possible way of getting
     through the crowd quickly. Find a convenient lull in the convention to take
     the dog out an hour before a morning or afternoon session adjourns. On
     crowded elevators I try to protect my dog with my body by placing it
     against the back or on either side. I also try to keep tab of his nose so
     that he does not pester anyone without my noticing it.

7.   In the convention hall I try to protect my dog from cane poking by
     sheltering it with my feet when I am aware that canes are coming its way.
     Carpeted floors sometimes make it difficult to hear canes coming.

8.   I take my dog out very early in the morning, at 5:30 or 6:00 a.m. Then I
     groom and feed it. By the time I shower and shave and go out to eat
     breakfast, my dog is ready for another relief stop before the 9:00
     convention hour starts. Are you accustomed to eating breakfast before
     taking your dog out? If so, don't do it at a National Convention. At a
     recent convention my wife noticed three or four dogs had relieved
     themselves on the carpet while their owners were in a breakfast line-up.
     We were not sure their owners even knew what their dogs were doing.
     One dog's mishap sometimes serves as a signal for other dogs to go and
     do likewise. Water your dog immediately upon the noon break, if not
     earlier. A plastic, folding watering dish or a makeshift bowl made from a
     folded back baggie can allow watering at any time. If it drinks heavily, then
     it is perhaps ready for another relief stop before the 2:00 session begins.
     Once the swing of the convention falls in place, you can pick out a rhythm
     which works for you.

9.   Do you find National Conventions totally exhausting? Well, your dog does
     too. Your dog would thank you if you would relieve, feed and water, and
     let it rest while you go out with your cane for your evening meal if you are
     sure your dog can handle being alone. Then your dog is in good shape
     for the rest of the evening. Leave the TV or radio on in the hotel room to
     distract it from outside noises. Tiptoe away and return in two or three
     minutes the first time or two to see if all is well. It is better to leash it or
     use a tiedown by a desk or bureau leg rather than by a bed. July is a hot
     month, and the dogs shed a lot and get needless hair in the bedding.
     Some frustrated dogs have torn up beds, I have heard.

10.  Don't forget your grooming supplies. Shampoo your dog and perhaps dip
     it for fleas just before the convention. You'll save the hotel maids a lot of
     trouble if you will groom your dog two or three times a day.

11.  To cut back on elimination problems of your dog and to save packing
     space in your luggage, you might consider some brand of scientific dog
     food. Some of these high-powered foods take up half the space in your
     suitcase since a little bit goes a long way in meeting your dog's diet
     needs. Since their bodies consume most of the food, there is very little to
     eliminate. You should experiment with any new dog food you might use a
     week or two before the convention so the dog will adjust to the new diet
     ahead of time. And you can also see how its bowel habits are going to be
     affected. You will find these special diets rather expensive. You either
     need to take ample food along with you or at least enough to get you
     through a couple of days if you plan to purchase dog food at the
     convention site.

12.  If you cross time lines in attending a National Convention, remember that
     your dog is apt to remain on its home schedule. For at least the first two
     days, I keep my Braille watch or talking clock on the home time so I won't
     forget the dog's needs. The dog will gradually adjust to a new situation
     just as you do, but it does take some forethought not to overlook this time
     difference.

13.  If your dog has special medical needs, such as chronic ear infections,
     bring your medical supplies along. You will be given the name of a local
     vet if you attend the Guide Dog Division meeting the first afternoon of the
     convention. Or you could obtain it from Dr. Paul Gabias, President of the
     Guide Dog Division. This information can also be obtained from the NFB
     information desk in the main lobby.

     In summing up, ideally, any person with a new guide dog would do well to
attend a short state convention before attempting a national one. Sometimes,
such as in my case, you get your dog on the eve of the National Convention,
and the state one comes later. State conventions, however, will have fewer dogs,
fewer people, and are apt to be in a much less complicated hotel. I have never
had a problem in a state setting or at a large historical convention where all who
attend are sighted. If you should have problems in this mini-convention, you
might think twice before taking your dog to a National Convention. I also think it
would be a good idea for each state affiliate to designate a person to serve as a
mentor or contact person for guide-dog users from that state. At least, if you are
not certain of your skills as a guide-dog user in a convention setting, seek out a
person to assist you until you get your bearings during the first day or two.
     Personally, I do not think that problems with guide dogs at a national
convention are insurmountable. Problems of guide-dog users need to be studied
carefully, and much forethought should go into the planning of future
conventions. For example, sandboxes (or something equivalent) should be
conveniently located. Pick-up should be mandatory for all those guide-dog
owners who are physically able. If there is a small amount of sand, it should be
changed daily. If there is a substantial amount of sand, it should be changed
about every three days. The sandbox should be large enough to accommodate
several dogs at one time. An ideal size would be twelve feet by thirty feet. All
sides of this rectangle should be available for use. This relief station should be
under a canopy or other covering for inclement weather.
     Persons who really know where the sandbox is should be available to take
dog users there. Regrettably, blind persons giving directions quite often are no
better than a sighted person giving them. If possible, the sandbox should be
away from the mainline of traffic. This takes pressure off the dog and his master
as well as making it easier to clean up if there is an accident. The cost of
maintaining the sandbox should be the responsibility of the hotel or the NFB
National Office. It is a plus factor to the whole blind community when the dog
mishaps are kept to a minimum. A tip is in order, but a $25 tip, I am sure, is paid
by very few others. After all, I would guesstimate that the hotel makes a million
dollars or so from one of our conventions. They could afford it. Furthermore, a
guide dog is an acceptable, valuable mobility tool, and they should not be
treated as a luxury or fall into the same category as child care.
     I have discovered over the years that guide dogs like to relieve
themselves in the same general vicinity where they have gone before.
Consequently, from my observations, conventions held in one big hotel work
better for the dogs rather than four or five scattered facilities where each has its
own relief area. The more familiar the dog is with his environment, the more
relaxed he becomes. The more relaxed he is, the easier it is for him to relieve
himself. All of this leads to fewer accidents.
     When a person gets a new guide dog, the guide dog might be likened to a
roughly hewn piece of granite. The final masterpiece is slowly chiseled out over
several months by constant practice on improving teamwork techniques. I know
we guide-dog users irritate some people when we brush by them or sideswipe
them in crowded situations. Nature has built dogs to walk faster than people.
Sometimes the dog is going to misjudge the space required for passage for
himself and his master. I am sure that we try to slow down our dogs, but they
are excited and nervous, and this might have some effect on their otherwise
normal behavior. Dogs are taught to pull ahead a bit to let you know they are
trying to do their job. Dogs are eager to get their masters to desired
destinations as quickly as possible. Therefore, these minor brushings are bound
to happen from time to time. Our guide dogs do not get a lot of practice working
around great crowds of blind persons. It quite often is a new experience for
them, but experience improves as conventions come and go. Better days will
tend to await the annual conventioneer who is accompanied by a guide dog.
     If you have had concerns about taking a guide dog to a National
Convention, I trust that you will find some of the suggestions printed here
helpful. Out of the fifteen National Conventions I have attended with my guide
dogs, I think I have had three accidents. Accidents are more likely to happen
with a new guide dog. Had I known about the above hints, and had proper
preparations been made for relief areas, these incidents would not have
happened. If there is proper dissemination of information and proper convention
planning, there should be almost no problems with guide dogs at a convention. I
have been to many historical conventions and state conventions, and there was
never an embarrassing mishap. Any reasonable person with an obedient and
regularly worked guide dog should be able to handle a convention. If there are
any doubts on either side of this equation, a dog sitter might be the best
solution.


[Photo #8 Caption: Paul Gabias and Bill Isaacs at the 1994 Convention with their guide dogs]

          AN OPEN LETTER TO PAUL GABIAS AND BILL ISAACS
                         by Doug Elliott

                                                   Grinnell, Iowa
                                                   July 27, 1995 

Dear Bill and Paul, 

     You have both written me at length in response to my letter. I do not
object to the length. Rather, I think it is symptomatic of the fact that these issues
are virtually undiscussed in the public arena. As I am sure you expect, my
response will also be somewhat lengthy for the same reason. I'll go through
each letter, one at a time, starting with Bill's. 
     Bill, you deal with so very much in your letter that answering it is a
challenge. I will do my best, hoping I don't miss anything. Let me note at the
outset that I completely agree with you when you say that we have substantial
disagreements. 

1. Dogs
     Separating Effects. You tell me that you don't know how I can separate
use of guide dogs from the theme of standing up for blindness. Let me try to be
more clear. Dogs shed. Dogs must relieve themselves. Dogs bark. Dogs eat,
sometimes when we don't want them to. Dogs generate allergens in some
people. Dogs create phobias in some people. Dogs occupy space, sometimes
inconveniently. All these social effects occur whenever a dog is around people,
regardless of whether it is a highly trained guide dog or a beloved pet.
     As blind people, when we use a guide dog, we are implicitly asking the
public around us to overlook these effects because of our choice of travel tool.
But this does not eliminate the effects. Our highly trained animals do these
dog-like things in as inconspicuous a manner as their human handlers instruct
them to do, but they do them. None of these effects has anything to do with
blindness. But they all exist and become part of any interaction we have with
other people. That's why we must separate the effects of using a dog from the
effects of being a blind person. 
     Blind people who don't use any travel tool and blind people who use
canes do not have these same effects. All three types (non-users, cane users,
dog users) have the effects of blindness. Only we dog users have these
additional effects created by the fact that we are accompanied by a dog.
Pretending that these additional effects do not exist or pretending that they have
to do with blindness are both errors I suggest we identify and discuss. Using a
dog is a choice some blind people make. The effects of using that dog are dog
effects, not blindness effects--and we must be honest about this with ourselves,
and then with the world around us. 
     I know that you know this even if you are unwilling to deal directly with it.
Why else would you have gone to all the trouble of getting your white standard
poodle, a breed not customarily trained to guide? You got the dog because it
does not shed. Remove one effect; the others are still there. Honesty commands
us to perceive clearly and to reason from that clarity, not to deny what we would
wish away. Honesty commands us to say that using a dog has social effects that
have nothing to do with blindness. 
     Everyone Should Try One. You compare the need for having both large
print and Braille available with having canes and dogs available. You go on to
say that you do not hear this insistence on choices from the NFB leadership. To
you, the key is choice. Yes, we may sometimes sell the concept of Braille
literacy as choice, but that is not what we are really doing. Bill, we are not trying
to get Braille instruction in order to give us choices. We are trying to get Braille
taught to give us literacy. In some cases a blind person will be able to use both.
In many instances, without Braille the blind person has no means of reading and
writing and of doing the two interactively. The point is to achieve literacy, not to
achieve choices.
     Now, let's apply this reasoning to the use of dogs and canes. As with
literacy, let us begin by defining what we are trying to achieve. In the case of
travel tools, we are trying to achieve safe and proficient travel. It's not a question
of whether you have choices. It's a question of getting the skills as a blind
person to do efficiently what sighted persons do with sight. Everyone agrees
that people should be good cane users before they get dogs. I don't believe this
is enforced; I know I was not a good cane user even though I used a cane when
I got my dog. But everyone agrees on this principle. If everyone learns safe and
proficient travel with a cane, then the goal has been achieved. You would
probably say the goal would also be achieved if everyone used dogs, but that
leaves out the requirement of good cane use. My point here is that choice is not
the goal; travel is. Let's stay focused on that point and not create a
smokescreen by insisting that we should have choices. 
     You suggest that dogs and canes are interchangeable as large print and
Braille are for some people. The skills and mindset used for dogs and for canes
are different. Information comes in in different ways. A person can learn both, as
you and I have done. But one will always clearly be the primary skill. When a
person gets a dog, the dog demands that it be the first choice. Young dogs are
energetic, and you have to take them out for walks, or they will drive you crazy.
The daily care must be performed whether you feel like it or not. It is important
to keep up the training the dog has received and begin to add training that you
specifically want. For all these reasons, when you get a dog, you use the dog.
That's just the way things are. You can't switch back and forth. And if you end
up not liking the dog, you can't just leave it in the corner. 
     I think it's downright cruel for you to say that every able- bodied blind
person should try a dog. You end up loving the dog (unless it's been poorly
trained or has masked some bad traits in training that come out when you arrive
home). You care about the dog. You can't just junk it if you decide you don't like
dog use. You've taken on a responsibility to care for this animal, and you have
to do it. They want to work. They like to work. They're crushed when they don't
get to go. Dogs aren't throwaway items, and you shouldn't be suggesting that
large numbers of blind people try them with the understanding of interchanging
or changing their minds in six months. It's not right, and it's usually not doable.
And if thousands of blind people took your suggestion and, as much as they
loved the dog, found they disliked traveling with a dog, there would be
thousands of trained dogs not being used. They would be confused and
unhappy because they were not doing what they were trained to do. That is why
I say cruel--cruel to these trained animals that cannot just be cast aside if you
change your mind. 
     Moreover, your argument is based on the belief that a person can't know
what something is like unless the person tries it. Well, Bill, I think that I know
enough about what heroin is like to know that I don't want to try it. I can think of
many other examples--self-mutilation, serial murder, child abuse,
cannibalism--the practice of which I can reject through the use of human
reasoning without trying them myself. I realize these sound like extreme
examples, but they make my point, that a person doesn't have to experience
something to understand whether he or she wants to do it.
     Let me focus more specifically on dogs. I can think of numerous reasons
why a person would know without using one that he or she did not want to get a
dog. One reason is the care, including the daily relief schedule. Eight or ten
years of that can be a sound basis for deciding not to get a dog. Another reason
is the social effects I mentioned earlier. A person can know about and assess
these effects on his or her life without actually getting a dog and proving that
the effects really do exist. Yet another reason is satisfaction with the person's
current travel method. If a person is getting around safely and comfortably now,
why would the person want to change? You say that it takes six months (I think
it's more like a year) to come to trust your dog and be in sync with your dog. If
a person is traveling comfortably and efficiently with a cane now, why should the
person devote a year to learning a new skill that will get him or her back exactly
to where the traveler is right now?
     You indicate that your own personal feelings of pleasure in walking with
the dog make that decision for you. But, Bill, not everybody has a wish to make
the act of walking paramount with all the attendant responsibilities it entails.
Many people just want to get around. If they are traveling efficiently now without
a dog, I see no reason why they should try one. They've met the only real test:
Are they getting what they want? 
     It is my guess that most blind people secretly think they don't get around
very well and are a little embarrassed by it. I also suspect that most of us
secretly watch others and think to ourselves that we wish we could get around
as well as this person or that. And it is my observation after having these
feelings myself and discussing them with others that most of us do get around
pretty well. Sure, we can always use tips, brush up our skills, pay attention. But
this secret belief that we are not quite as good at getting around as other people
are is a wellspring for both good and bad. Some of us try to improve, try to
learn more, try to practice. Others of us go to one of our centers to get the
process accelerated. Still others continue secretly to worry that we aren't living
up to what we could be doing.
     To these worriers I'd like to say: You can. Observe the techniques of
others. Ask questions. Go to a center. But under no circumstances conclude
that you cannot get around and that a dog will do it for you. That's the only
recipe I know for being sure that you won't get around as efficiently as you
should. The dog doesn't do the thinking. You have to. Whether using a cane or a
dog, you are the one responsible for path and decisions and safety. So work on
your skills. But don't make the mistake of thinking the dog will do this for you.
Get the skills first and then, if you like, get a dog. It doesn't work the other way
around. 
     Dog Relief. You can smile about my mentioning dog relief as an
interruption to work schedules if you like, but college professors do have their
schedules very much more under their control than most other people who
work. I know people who have been required to leave their dogs in pens at the
edge of the work site and who are required to use their break times for relief,
meaning that coffee and breaks are not available. Dog relief may not have been
a problem for you; for most of us it is a necessary extra from our employers. I
recall dog users at seminars and National Center for the Blind meetings usually
being the last ones back or, as I mentioned before, skipping personal comforts
to relieve the dog. Sure, it's their choice, but it's a choice with consequences for
eight or ten years that most people don't think through when they decide to get
a dog. They should. 
     Let me mention here my disagreement with your implication that the NFB
convention does not do a good job with dog relief areas. You make this point by
saying we could learn from the schools, whose relief areas do not stink. Bill, I
am astonished. Any area in which sixteen to twenty-four dogs relieve themselves
day after day is going to stink. No matter what you do, it will. And where
clean-up is not taught, the smell is further enhanced. Yes, the schools spend a
lot of time and money on cleansing the relief areas. But these areas still tell the
malodorous story of their use. You say that the NFB could have non-smelling
areas if we would take the "proper precautions." Well, I suppose, if the NFB
spent thousands and thousands of dollars on replacing relief area material every
four to six hours and used chemicals for odor suppression, that might be true.
     But there is another way. First, dog handlers could clean up after
themselves. Next, they could take advantage of the areas nearby, like the whole
of Grant Park in Chicago. It was right across the street. Yet many dog users
there declined to cross the street, causing stress on the clean-up area placed
there for people with genuine walking problems. I do not understand why people
who are so insistent on bringing their dogs and emphasizing their utility would
be unwilling to walk a block and cross one street to provide their animals with a
comfortable area in which to relieve.
     Finally, I reject the notion that the NFB itself should be responsible for
dog-relief areas. This is a choice some of us have made to use dogs, and a
second choice we have made to bring them to convention. I think we should be
responsible, both for cleaning up cleanable material, and for paying the cost of
areas that must be constructed and cleaned by others. I personally resent the
notion that we dog users should be able to bring our dogs, relieve them
wherever we want, and put the responsibility and cost onto others. I think my
choice to use a dog carries these additional responsibilities, and I urge all other
dog users to adopt the same view. 
     Conventions. You express a lot of emotion about snide remarks of cane
users at conventions. I have heard dog users do the same. I think this all rests
on our mutual pact not to discuss these topics openly, leading to build-ups of
resentment and misunderstanding. If a cane user is acting inappropriately, then
others should tell him. Likewise, if a dog user is acting inappropriately, then
others should tell her as well. It should not be a cane versus dog issue. We all
should understand what is appropriate for use of either travel tool, because
courteous behavior toward others is always what is appropriate. 
     I saw people--dog and cane users--rushing for elevators and not
observing the rules of courtesy. Would you say the cane users are rude and the
dog users cannot help it because the dog is making the decisions? At
convention many dogs are baffled by the crowds and the fact that blind people
do not automatically step out of their way as sighted people back home do.
When dog users at conventions do not remain aware of their surroundings or
permit their dogs to make decisions, you get situations in which dogs become
pushy to obey forward commands that cannot be obeyed, or start pressing their
noses between people's legs in an effort to open a path for users. Would you
say that someone stepping in front of a dog trying to find a way around a
crowded area is rude? Would you say the dog is rude for trying to do its best?
Or would you say the dog handler should be controlling the dog in such
crowds? In these instances, I think the handler is not in control and is at fault.
But I have heard plenty of snide remarks about cane users, and some of them
are justified. I have heard snide remarks about dog users, and some of them are
justified, too.
     Instead of pointing fingers and calling names, let us talk together about
what is appropriate behavior for these crowded areas. Everyone will benefit. But
it does none of us any good to say that the cane users oppress the dog users
by numbers and that dog users are long-suffering, overly fair, and put upon.
Cane users could say the same, and we would still be right where we are:
resenting each other's behavior instead of working together to resolve this. Will
you join me in encouraging all convention delegates to be courteously firm with
each other while we work on practices of courtesy common to all? 
     Sighted Guides. I disagree with Fred Schroeder if he really said that using
a guide dog is no different from using a sighted guide. I doubt whether Fred
actually said this, but I will deal with the concept anyway. I disagree because I
think there are differences, but they may not be the same ones you think of. I
got my dog, as I say, for increased independence. I now know this is not a good
reason. But it seemed like it at the time. I was a cane user, going out every day
with my cane to work but not going out otherwise unless I was with a sighted
person. I told myself that I could; I may even have believed it. But the fact
remained that I didn't. So when the idea of a dog occurred, I acted upon it.
     I think that most of us who get dogs think that we can then dispense with
our dependence on sighted guides. But our thought process is often skewed.
We can say to ourselves: When I have a dog, I don't always have to be with a
sighted person. Sighted people are usually in control when I am walking with
them, or they think they are. More often than I should, I have gone along,
permitting this. They see. They make the navigational decisions. They watch out
for my safety. Now I'll get rid of that. I'll have my dog to do that. But it will be
different. I'm the human being, and I will be the one in control. 
     You can see the flaw in this logic. The dog is going to do all the things the
sighted person did, but the blind person will be in control. That little "but" means
a lot. Is the blind person who thinks this way really in control? Or have we just
shifted our reliance on sight from a person to a dog? I think there is a great deal
of this. I know that I have gone out with my dog, not really paying attention to
where I was going, believing that the dog could get me back home. That's
wrong. I should at all times know where I am, give the dog directional
commands, use him to provide information about the path rather than letting him
set the path.
     I also know that I have used that easy excuse when I get lost of blaming
my dog for getting lost. Anyone can get lost, cane user or dog user. But we dog
users can blame the dog and vent emotion (though, I hope, not physically) on
the dog rather than blaming ourselves and learning better the next time. We can
also order the dog to "take us home." Have you ever done that? I certainly have,
gritting my teeth that the dumb dog got us lost. Now, looking back, I know who
got us lost. I did it. The dog merely did what I told him, and the instructions
were wrong. But for a long time I didn't figure out that I had to figure things out.
I now stay very tightly in control of the directional commands, and the dog
follows the path I set. How many dog users make this distinction and follow it?
How many do what I used to do--expect the dog to navigate, but blame the dog
for a poor job? All too many, I fear. It goes back to why we got the dog. It's a
variant of using a sighted guide, and it's not the same thing. That's why I
disagree with the concept of equating dogs and sighted guides. Done
incorrectly, using a dog is worse. 
     Hierarchy. I object very strongly to your characterizing the Federation as
having a "hierarchy above" and a "below." I see the Federation as a true
grassroots movement, made up of blind people who volunteer their time to
make the world better for themselves and others. Some of these people hold
elective leadership, and they got elected by being eloquent or hard-working or
representative or very much in touch with their fellow blind men and women,
and often all of these. Elective leadership means more work for the same
pay--nothing except the satisfaction of a job well done. We should be trying to
work together, work hard, work effectively to achieve our goals.
     Instead, you set up a category of the "higher" and the "lower" and put
yourself in the "lower" as one not in elected leadership. You then take shots at
the leadership. If you want to change the attitude of the current leadership or the
leadership itself, then work on that. Don't call names and set up categories.
Convince people. Present arguments. Network. That is how change is made by
human beings, whether in the Federation or out of it. But do not, if you wish to
be effective, choose the path of criticism without solutions. We Federationists do
not believe in that. It gets you nowhere except right where you are.
     You accuse the Monitor of being unfair to dogs. You try to prove this
charge by saying that there has been a positive article or picture about white
canes in every Monitor for the past year. Bill, if this is the test--a picture of a
white cane--then the Monitor is certainly guilty. Most blind people who are
photographed will be photographed with their travel tool handy, and as you
yourself say, there are more canes (2,000) than dogs (100) at a national
convention, where many pictures are taken. Assuming this is representative of
the blind population, there will be more canes than dogs. Why anyone would
conclude that picturing a cane is somehow propaganda for the cane and against
the dog is beyond me. People mention their travel tools in articles about them,
and I remember numerous passing references over the years to both cane use
and dog use. Once again, if the proportion runs true, there will be far more
mentions of canes than dogs. I do not think as you do that this is intentional
suppression of dogs; it is merely a result of the statistics.
     You cap your argument by saying there were two negative references to
dogs, both in resolutions urging dog schools to teach clean-up. Bill, these
resolutions were adopted first by the Guide Dog Division and proposed by
Division leaders to the national convention. They were not denigrating to dogs.
Like all our resolutions, they were recognitions of fact and calls to action.
Perhaps you yourself did not agree with the resolutions. Many of your fellow
dog users did. If you don't agree with the resolutions, please say so. That would
be a better way of making your position known than to say that the resolutions
represented negative references to dogs. By the way, I flipped open my Monitor
index covering the years 1978-1984, and I found two full pages of indexed
references to articles about dogs while there is less than one page indexed
under "canes" and "white canes" combined.

2. Pet Therapy
     I am startled anew every time I read your point that pets are great therapy,
that dogs are among the best in providing good pet therapy results, and that
you think this is all the more true when the dog is not only a pet but also a
trained guide with that added bond. What on earth does this prove? That blind
people are all in need of therapy and that only dog users are getting it? That
dog users are better people than cane users or sighted people because they
have constant canine therapists? Please, Bill. I don't feel in need of therapy. I
feel in need of a travel tool to get around. The one I use is a dog. Please don't
infer from this that I am a nut or, conversely, that I am not and that all cane
users are. It's a travel tool, Bill, not a lay person's self-therapy. The public in
general already thinks enough odd things about us. Don't add to it that we are
all in constant need of therapy on the spot and that Spot or some other guide
dog, in addition to doing the thinking for us, is also curing us at the same time. I
might add that, in my profession of licensed clinical social worker, I have
worked with pet therapists and have been invited to give several lectures on
what pet therapy is and how it works. Your ideas about pet therapy bear no
relationship to the professional use of the concept. 

3. Avoidance 
     Perhaps I did not make myself clear when I discussed the theory of
avoidance, a psychological concept I applied to dog use. You indicate that you
cannot be avoiding blindness because your dog is a much larger, more
conspicuous travel tool than a cane, which in some cases can actually be
hidden when not in use. Please understand when I discuss this and other topics
that I am not suggesting that you personally exemplify any of the matters I
discuss. I am listing tendencies and feelings that I personally have and that I
have observed in others. Taking this discussion personally only leads to
resentment; thinking objectively about it may lead to new views of truth. 
     The theory of avoidance involves the rigorous dodging of some topic and
can include focusing to the point of over-focus on another concept to help mask
the avoided topic. I think use of a dog can create the context for over-focus on
the dog as a means of avoiding dealing with the painful subject of blindness. It
works like this: A dog user following the extreme version of avoidance will be
very insistent on that dog's rights, so to speak--introducing the dog as though it
were another person in the conversation, focusing on the dog as an important
topic of conversation to the exclusion of the usual range of human topics,
insisting on attention for the dog, talking baby-talk to the dog when in company
with other people or when walking along, magnifying the talents and skills of the
dog in the user's mind and in conversation with others to the point that the dog
is a truly wondrous being, and on and on.
     While this over-focus on the dog is going on, the blind person can at the
same time have feelings of inferiority about blindness, feelings of resentment at
not being able to see, feelings of lack of competence in that whole range of
human activities in which we blind people are consistently and subtly told we
are second-class. Pushing the dog in all interactions, insisting on its
near-humanity, can be a way of trying to cover up and deny these feelings of
inferiority. In the case of cane users, there is no being behind which the person
can push these difficult feelings. They either exist raw or are repressed when
not dealt with. In the case of dog users, the dog provides a way of covering up
one set of feelings with another. 
     I am not implying that you personally do this. I felt tendencies like this
myself before I joined the Federation, which helped me to work past both the
avoidance and the blindness-related feelings by its positive emphasis on
honesty and capability. What I am saying is that I know this possibility, this
tendency, exists in humans. I have worked a long time as a therapist and
counselor, and I have dealt with avoidance of many things (pain, loss, drastic
change of circumstances, harm from others) in clients who first and foremost
needed honesty about their situations and second needed a therapist or guide
to work through the avoided feelings as well as the feelings on which they had
come to focus. It's human. I've done it. Dogs make it easy. Let's admit this and
work through the consequences.
     I do not think it matters whether you are an extrovert or an introvert when
considering the dog as an ice breaker. I think, rather, that all of us need to
consider, whoever we are, whether we want people to pay attention to us for
ourselves or for our dogs. The interaction you get with other people is very
different in the two instances. 
     I have heard many dog users say that, when they used canes, they were
left out of social situations and that no sighted people would talk to them. Then
they got a dog, and everything changed. Suddenly sighted people were talking
to them. This is a graphic example of what I am talking about when I say that
avoidance is underway here. Blind people who call themselves shy or
introverted may very well have those feelings of inferiority due to blindness and,
when they get a dog, can cover up the inferior feelings by focusing on the dog.
Many people love dogs, and the sighted public becomes an inadvertent
conspirator in focusing on the dog along with the blind person. This suits
everybody in the equation; the only thing it leaves out or, more accurately,
leaves in, is those feelings of inferiority, which are never brought out into the
open for examination, rejection, and replacement with the positive attitudes
about blindness the Federation teaches. 

4. Canes and Dogs 
     Who is pitied more? You say that your experience leads you to believe
that the public views blind persons using canes with greater pity than those
using dogs. However, you give no examples or explanations for your belief. I
deal with this in the section devoted to Paul's letter because he raises a related
point. Let me add a few comments here. 
     My belief is the opposite of yours, and I will give examples. When my wife
as a cane user and I as a dog user walk together in airports or cities other than
the one in which we live, I am the one approached with offers of help far more
often than she is. You say in your letter that you suspect I do not use my dog to
its fullest potential, and I would guess you would make that answer to this
example. Not so. At the school where I trained and ever since, I have always
been told and observed for myself that I use my dog much more flexibly, much
more fully, much more effectively than most of the dog users I have
encountered. I think this is so for a reason I will deal with later. Let's examine
why I might be approached rather than my wife though both of us are
proceeding purposefully to our destination. 
     Might it be, as I describe more fully in the portion addressed to Paul, that
the public thinks she must know where she's going because she is using a cane
while I must not since I have a dog? That is certainly the way it feels. When we
have talked about this, both she and I have perceived no difference between our
paths, our knowledge, our carriage, our focus. The only difference is the travel
tool. 
     To me, you set up incorrect categories when you ask, "Who is more
greatly pitied?" All blind people get enough of that to start with as blind people.
Our task is to identify and eliminate that feeling about us. My goal in dealing
with the topic of dogs is to separate those effects specific to dogs and examine
them so that we can reach a new understanding about them. It's not a question
of who is pitied more or less. It's a question of what effects are attributable to
blindness and what to use of dogs. I think they are separable. 
     While we're on the subject of comparisons, I don't think it's useful to
make comparisons between dog users and cane users that emotionally
characterizes one or the other as better or worse. In my response to Paul, I have
drawn a comparison, but its purpose is not to conclude which is better or worse.
Rather, its purpose is to isolate the effects of dog use for separate
consideration. You, on the other hand, published a lengthy, two-part piece in
Harness Up about a year ago in which you went into great detail about how you
felt dog use was superior and cane use inferior. There are echoes of that piece
in your letter to me. You concluded your piece by saying to persons who do not
use dogs and do not wish to: "Forgive them, for they know not what they do."
Aside from the inappropriate translation of this quotation from its original
Biblical context to this one, your conclusion was the strongest possible
statement of dog user superiority and cane user inferiority to the point of almost
calling cane users ignorant. 
     I am not saying that either tool is superior or inferior. As a dog user
myself, I am focusing on the effects of dog use which I think are ignored,
overlooked, or pretended away. They exist. And I think they should be known
and discussed. If you or I choose to use a dog, that is our choice. But I maintain
that we are not free to pretend that our choice has no consequences. You are
welcome to say that dog use is superior for you. In my view, you are not
welcome to say that dog use is superior for everyone. And particularly you are
not welcome to say it without challenge, discussion, and reflection on the
subject in public if the topic is one that affects all blind people as dog use does.

     Grace and Exhilaration. You say that a dog usually gets you there with
much more grace and poise than a cane. You then say that using a cane is not
an exhilarating experience, implying that using a dog is. You characterize using
a dog as fun and relaxing and then compare canes and dogs by calling cane
use the "hard road" and dog use the "easier road." You then compare cane use
to walking a tightrope without a balancing pole and dog use to walking a
tightrope with one, asking why anyone would want to leave the balancing pole
behind when it is safer and more comfortable to use one. 
     Once again, these comparisons seem very emotional to me. We have a
very basic disagreement since you say the dog "gets you there," and I say I "get
me there," using a dog as a travel tool. Moreover, I don't want exhilaration, fun,
joy, or relaxation when I'm going somewhere. I want to get there. The medium
strikes me as a secondary consideration while it seems paramount to you. While
this is a difference between us that can be attributed to style, I must add that I
don't know any sighted people who worry about exhilaration or relaxation when
walking. They're doing it for exercise, to get there, or because the car is broken-
-because they like the scenery, not because the medium itself is the point. Why
should blind people be different and focus on the medium for information? It
seems a skewed view to choose a method of travel because of some emotional
attachment to the method itself. 
     But this is not our basic disagreement. No, I do not think that the dog gets
the person there with more grace and poise. I think some dog users working
with their dogs are graceful and poised. I think some cane users are. And I think
some dog users and some cane users are clumsy, awkward, and graceless. I
think it is the person and the person's training, not the method that makes the
difference. 
     Furthermore, I am offended by your use of the acrobat analogy. Here is
why. Your use of the easier and harder comparison and the acrobat image
states in no uncertain terms that you think canes are unsafe as well as
uncomfortable. Applying the analogy you have chosen to the actual discussion,
here is what you have said: Walking anywhere as a blind person is like walking
on a tightrope, a situation fraught with danger. Cane use is like walking a
tightrope without any safety equipment because the use of a cane itself is not
safe, leading to a deep feeling of discomfort. Dog use, on the other hand, is like
walking a tightrope with safety equipment, making you safe and giving a feeling
of ease. Nonsense. Nonsense. Nonsense. 
     In the first place, I do not think that walking around as a blind person is
like walking a tightrope. I think it's like walking around. If you think that walking
around as a blind person is inherently unsafe, symbolized by your tightrope
picture, then you and I have a profound disagreement which we may not be able
to resolve. In the second place, cane use may not be safe or comfortable for
you. Maybe, even though you used a cane for a number of years, you were not
able to receive the kind of cane training now available in our centers, the kind
that teaches the skills to the level of instinctual reaction while linking those skills
to self-confidence. I have not had our kind of cane training either, and I think the
lack of good cane training is largely why people get dogs. When we got dogs,
our level of mobility was increased over what it was, as is our safety, to use your
analogy. 
     But, Bill, our level of cane use is not the level that can be achieved. Watch
people who come from the centers. Watch people who have taken the time to
observe good cane users at Federation conventions and have taken the
opportunity to ask questions and request helpful hints to improve their own
technique. These cane users do move with grace and poise. They do move
safely. They do move with comfort. You may not, but how can you say that no
one can with all that evidence before you? Please stop this trashing of cane use,
this implying that cane use is not safe or effective or comfortable. It's fine if
cane use is none of those things for you; it's not fine to say that your experience
sets the standard. 
     "Tightrope," my foot. I know thousands of people who move safely and
efficiently and gracefully every day in situations much more challenging than the
small-town context you and I traverse. "Acrobats," my foot. They're people,
people who happen to be blind and who happen to make the cane work for
them. Perhaps it is you and I who should try a new method. We may be the ones
who don't know ease and comfort. Whether that's true or not, we both know
walking with a cane is not like walking on a tightrope without safety equipment.
So please stop saying it. 
     Speed and Proficiency. You say that dogs (and the people they are
guiding) walk faster than pedestrians without dogs, whether blind or sighted.
You say this is a well-known fact. Not to me. My dog walks at the speed of some
people, faster than some, slower than some. It depends on his mood, my mood,
the temperature, the conditions (high humidity and snow or ice can slow us
down). To think that dog users always go faster than other people is, I think,
another myth. 
     You mention several accidents you have had while using a cane that you
would not have had if using a dog. One involved a protrusion from a truck. I
have observed my wife, a cane user, deviating around things parked across the
sidewalk without ever touching them with the cane. She is listening for cues that
alert her to the presence of objects, and she bypasses them. You say that you
encountered an overhanging sign several times. I have observed my wife
encountering something once, like the table in the center of the corridor to Kitty
O'Shea's in the Chicago Hilton. After she encounters it once, she adds it to her
mental map and deviates around it in the future. You say that you broke a cane
on one badly parked car and cut your leg on another's license plate bolt. Where
I live, we also have areas without sidewalks, and I have never seen my wife
come even close to doing what you describe. 
     And I know that, when my dog is sick or in for grooming and I pick up my
cane, I do slow down. I know I do not have the same skills and techniques at the
instinctual level that people who routinely use canes do, so I slow down to
accommodate to this. However, from this I do not conclude that dogs are faster;
rather, I conclude that my skills are rusty. You mention that you can listen to
birds or pay attention to what's going on when you use your dog, implying that
you cannot when using your cane. My wife listens to birds and has her own
creative names for them. She pays attention to what's going on, comments as
we walk, turns around to talk to me or others, all in the confidence that her
instinctual-level skills will tell her when she has arrived at a street or something
obstructs her path. Her confidence is justified. In other words, Bill, she does,
with a cane, just what you say you do using a dog. The problem is that you
imply that you cannot do this and therefore no one else can with a cane.
     And what about this tiresome swinging of canes? I asked my wife how
many times she swings a cane in a block. She replied that she swings it as
many times as she needs to. It never occurred to her to count. Focusing on
number of swings seems to me to be over-focusing on process and not
focusing on the objective: getting there safely and efficiently. 
     Navigating. Concerning my example of a man instructing his dog to "find
the counter," you asked if the user was a new user, the dog was a new dog, the
team was a new team, and so on. None of this is relevant to the problem I
identified. The problem is dog users' thinking that the dog can do their thinking
for them. The dog cannot; the blind person must know where the counter is and
give directional commands. 
     Any person walking into a new place will not immediately know where
things are. But we all have the responsibility of finding out. What is to the left of
the door? What is on the right at the top of the stairs? My point is that cane
users do this. They have to. They have no alternative. Dog users all too often fall
into thinking that the dog will find things for them and do not themselves make
mental maps, keeping track of where they are, and learning new parts to the
map as they go. They rely on the dog to do this, and the reliance is misplaced.
The dog cannot "find the counter." But the dog can go "right" out of the elevator
lobby and then "forward" to the desk. There's quite a difference in the two
methods. By the way, the incident I described did not happen at an Iowa state
convention. 
     Also, it does no good to blame sighted people for giving imprecise
directions. Sighted people should never be relied on to give precise directions
and then be accused of being insensitive if they do not. Instead, we have to take
the responsibility of learning the techniques of getting precise directions from
them. And if we dog users all need a sighted person for a day or two to orient
us to a new place, then we are indeed very far behind the cane users who walk
in, start exploring, fit spaces and routes together, and make their mental maps
of the places they are in by asking questions, walking around, and figuring out
spatial relationships. You say that we dog users need a sighted person to
explain and show to us and the dog all these things for a day or two. That's not
my experience, but if you're right, then we should all be looking at getting
canes. 
     Who Succeeds? You say the most prominent people in your community
use dogs, implying that there is a hierarchy of blind people and that the best
ones, the ones with the best jobs, the most professional ones, the most
responsible ones, use dogs. The very same statement about many other
communities could be made regarding cane users. Once again, you are creating
a set of categories that is false. Do you really believe that the choice of a travel
tool leads to more or to less success? You may, but I do not. It's the blind
person who makes the success, not the travel tool he or she chooses. 
     "Model Blind Person?" I don't know if you quoted Dr. Jernigan accurately.
I doubt it, but, if he said some version of these words, I would guess they were
repeated out of context. I know that Dr. Jernigan does not go around lightly
defining the "model blind person." He knows there is no such thing. Each blind
person is a set of skills and abilities and potentials yet undeveloped just as
every sighted person is. Dr. Jernigan may have been referring to the deeply-held
belief of many (which I share) that no one should get a dog until he or she is
truly proficient in using a cane. Most of us today are not. We're just starting to
be able to offer to numerous blind people through our centers the kind of
training Dr. Jernigan pioneered. Some of us have learned the same thing at
conventions of the Federation by persistence and hard work. But many of us
have neither attended centers nor taken advantage of the Federation's
convention contexts to learn. We know it can be done; we haven't learned it yet
ourselves.
     Once good cane skills are learned with all that this implies for instinctual
information gathering and processing, strong self-reliance on our ability to
reason and protect our own safety, good navigational skills, and positive
feelings about ourselves as blind persons, then getting a dog or continuing to
use a cane is irrelevant. Either will work. The schools even say this; they just
don't enforce it. They pretend to require good cane skills; we all know they
don't. They may do a minimal test--like walking one block and crossing one
street--but they make no serious effort to test skills and are really just interested
in establishing that the potential student is ambulatory. And the minute you get
to a dog school, at least the one I attended, they require you to put your cane
away. No more cane on their grounds. Why, if cane skills are required? The
point I'm making is that Dr. Jernigan may have been discussing the need for a
blind person to learn the basic blindness skills. I can think of no other reason
for him to mention a "model blind person" because there is no such thing. 

5. The Division
     Your definition of the Division's purpose is to enlighten the rest of the
blind community about what it might be missing. I emphatically disagree. That
may be your purpose, but it should not be the purpose of the Division if the
Division wishes to function as a part of the Federation. 
     To me, the purpose of any division is twofold. First, the division can
interest blind persons in some shared trait--use of dogs, teaching, writing--to
draw the person toward the Federation. Divisions can be doors of entry for new
members who have not yet understood the importance of the Federation to the
entirety of their lives. Second, divisions work on applying Federation philosophy
to that shared trait. Teachers will do a better job of fashioning answers to
classroom problems for blind teachers than will the whole convention, though
the overall purpose of the Teachers Division and the convention is the same
one. 
     The Guide Dog Division meetings and the newsletter, in your view, should
proselytize. I can think of no other word for it. There isn't problem identifying.
There isn't pooling of knowledge to forge new solutions. There's discussion of
dog care, discussion of the value of dogs, discussion of and by dog schools in
general with very little critical thinking or substantive interaction. Yes, I think you
are correct when you describe the Division as trying to tell someone how
wonderful dogs are. But that is not the same thing that other divisions are doing.
Proselytizing about the capabilities of blind persons is one thing, whether it's
stated positively or framed negatively as the identification of a problem needing
solution. Proselytizing about the capabilities of dogs is quite another. My
suggestion was and remains that the Guide Dog Division should work on
blindness, not on dogs. 
     You tell me that the Guide Dog Division need not emphasize negative
aspects of dog use and suggest that neither teachers nor computer users do so
in their meetings. Divisions apply Federation philosophy to their shared trait.
Teachers most certainly do emphasize the negative effects blindness has on
their practice of their profession. They discuss combating misconceptions about
the ability of blind teachers to teach subjects using the blackboard or to keep
class discipline or to protect the safety of children. They don't bring up these
items to emphasize the negative. They bring them up as real factors in the lives
of practicing and aspiring teachers for the purpose of understanding them and
shaping responses and refutations for them. Likewise, computer users discuss
(at great length) that nasty problem of the graphical screens that makes them
less able or unable to use software or work effectively for employers. I can't
think of anything more negative than that. But they discuss this to understand it
and to forge solutions to this difficult problem as responsible blind people and
employees. 
     You ask why the Guide Dog Division should be asked to emphasize
negatives that are already known by dog users and state that you don't think
cane instructors emphasize the negatives of using a cane. You conclude by
saying that the purpose of a support group is to uplift and give direction. Part of
my point in raising these topics is that I think some of what you call the
negatives about guide-dog use are actually not well known. I have certainly
never heard them discussed at a Division meeting, or read about them in the
newsletter. Dog users and potential dog users are without this information and a
place to discuss it.
     Perhaps my point can be made more clearly by discussing sighted travel
and cane training. Any travel tool will have its disadvantages. Sighted people
have peripheral vision only to a degree, and they can be what is called
"blind-sided," having things come at them from a side they are not able to see or
not paying attention to. Likewise, cane use only tells the users certain things. In
learning to use a cane, the student learns what the limits of cane-gathered
information are, what reasonable assumptions can be made, how those
assumptions can be in error, and how to protect oneself in all cases. In other
words, if a cane instructor does not teach what you would call the negatives, the
limits and consequences of use of this particular tool, as a part of the course of
instruction, then the cane trainer is failing his or her students. 
     I think dog trainers fail according to this test. I think that the negatives of
dog use are not taught, are not well-understood, and are usually not even
discussed. There are negatives, Bill, even if you think they are minor or wish not
to discuss them. We should be discussing them. We should be forging our own
views of them. We should be proselytizing, but the proselytizing should be to the
dog schools and to current dog users to set a higher standard. But please let us
not pretend that there are not negatives, and please let us not pretend that there
is no point in discussing them because everyone who needs to know already
does. Not so. 
     Looked at one way, everything has negatives. Looked at another, the job
of human beings is to identify limitations and drawbacks and learn how to
overcome them. From your letter, I get the idea that you are so committed to
proselytizing for dog use that you are unwilling to concede that there may be
limitations and drawbacks to using a dog and unwilling to discuss how these
can be handled. That's not the approach I take to life, and it's not the approach I
take to the use of my dog. Further, it's not the approach I would have the
Division take. 
     No, I don't think the job of the Division is to be uplifting. As I said before, I
think the job is to apply the Federation approach to the shared trait. In the case
of dog use, this means discussing the things that are problems, the things that
need changing, and the things that can be improved. Dr. Jernigan says that
intelligence is number one, the ability to change the world to suit your wishes
and needs; number two, the ability to change yourself to accommodate to the
world when you cannot do number one; and number three, the ability to know
when to do which. Under this test, the Division is only doing number two,
accommodating to the world as it is, and adding proselytizing as a side benefit. 

6. Dog Schools
     Let me try to be clearer about my point concerning dog-guide schools at
conventions since you say that you do not understand. I don't object to our
inviting the schools to convention. What I do object to is our treatment of them,
exemplified by your letter. You give as reasons to have the schools present that
we blind people can learn from them and that we can make personal contacts
with staff members which will help when we attend the schools. I disagree with
both points. 
     We don't bring other people (you mention computer experts) to
convention to learn from them except for very specific factual data like operating
a Braille 'n Speak. Mostly we have already decided what we think, what direction
we would like to go. We bring the so-called experts to convention either to teach
them what we have already decided or to cement working relationships with
them for problem-solving in the future. We most emphatically do not bring
people to convention to learn from them about blindness or blindness-related
skills. What good would a convention be if we all showed up, thinking we didn't
know what we think and that we were there to learn from outside experts? If we
had done that for the past fifty-five years, we would still have rehab from the
forties, library service without any best-sellers, large print as king in literacy for
the blind, and a dozen other examples. But we don't do it that way. Instead, we
decide what we think. Then we try to spread our ideas. We are the experts on
blindness. 
     In the case of the dog schools, this summer's Division meeting was a
perfect example. There was a panel with all the dog schools and one of our own
members, Rick Fox. The topic was: "Who is in charge in crossing the street, the
dog or the blind person?" Rick began with a detailed description of how he had
been taught that the dog was to make the decisions in the street after he, Rick,
had given the command "forward." Rick described how he learned that he had to
be in control at all times, alert to information and dangers, giving commands in
the street as well as on the sidewalk. Then representatives of each dog school
spoke. Each one said, in effect, that Rick was right. Now, Bill, you say in your
letter that you were taught that the dog is in control when crossing a street. You
also say that you believe it. I was taught the same thing, and I believe what Rick
believes. I believe I am in control or that I should be. Yet every dog school,
including the ones from which Rick, you, and I got our dogs, said that they
believe the blind person is in control. 
     I know that's not true. They don't believe it. They think the street is the
most dangerous place a blind person can be, and they think that blind people
aren't up to handling the challenge. So they train the dog to look for oncoming
cars and to avoid them, and they teach the blind person to yield control to the
dog. I don't, and as I said at the convention, it's a good thing. Dogs try hard, but
they're not people. They can't understand physics and can't see 360 degrees. If
the blind person does not remain alert and in control, a car from an unexpected
direction or at an unexpected speed can fool the dog. It's happened to me, and I
was the one who got us both out of the way. I sort of threw my dog and then
leaped after him. The car missed us, but it would have hit us if I had not acted.
I'm not saying dogs are a bad travel tool or that my dog misbehaved. The car
came from a funny angle and at an unexpected speed, the kind of situation our
human brains can understand and react to.
     Yet no one at the convention was given an opportunity to challenge the
dog schools because the panel moderator said there was no time. Almost
everyone in the room had been trained the opposite of what the school
representatives from the podium were saying. No one had a chance to stand up
and say that the school people were not accurately representing what happens
in training and that the training should be that the blind person is in control. To
me, this was the most important topic on the agenda, and I wish we had devoted
more time to this and less to other, less important things.
     I want to take this concept one step further. As I mentioned before, I think
the schools have a falsely limited view of blind people, believing that we can do
very little efficiently by ourselves. Let me add here that there's absolutely no
difference between this limited view of our capabilities in dog schools and that
in most orientation centers that train people to use canes. That's probably why
most of us have never learned cane use to the optimum. People who have a
limited view of the blind and who are teaching cane use will teach limited skills
and limited confidence, and they will limit and condition the blind person to feel
the same way. The same is true with dogs.
     But there's an added wrinkle. The dog trainers with this limited view of
blind people train the dogs to that standard. We all know that most schools still
do not train dogs to use escalators even though most of us do so ourselves
once we leave the school. The trainers have bizarre, ballet-like ways of getting a
dog and blind person turned around in an elevator. You have to learn it to
graduate. Once we leave, most of us drop it. Good dog training includes positive
reinforcement, and dog schools apply this by teaching their students to talk
baby-talk and give constant, positive reinforcement while walking and after
executing commands correctly. I hear blind dog users doing this all the time,
and it strikes me as a very isolating technique, preserving dog training at the
price of making one seem a little odd when uttering that baby-talk. There are
other equally effective ways of preserving training and providing positive
reinforcement that do not require the blind person to keep up a constant patter
to the dog in that syrupy voice usually reserved for babies and pets. 
     The trainers, and this is especially offensive, train both the dog and the
blind person that the dog may never be relieved while the harness is on. Most of
us dispense with this stupid restriction once we leave. I guess the idea is that,
when the dog is in harness, it's working. And if you insist it not relieve itself
while in harness, it won't do it while in public. Then accidents won't occur. This
is pure nonsense.
     In the first place, we should be aware enough of our dog's schedule to
plan for relief at the usual times in an appropriate place. We should be
reinforcing the training all the time about relieving only on command. We
shouldn't need that special training of never relieving while in harness, and we
shouldn't have to go through the trouble of undressing the dog as a cue to
relieve. 
     But the worst of it is the implication that we can't do all this, so the dog
will be trained to hold it until we undress it. Instead of this silly restriction, the
dog schools should teach strong responsibility for scheduling by the blind
person. Moreover, they should require their students to learn the skill of finding
relief areas for every situation and should demand that all students live up to the
standard of cleaning up after their dogs. No student should be graduated from a
dog school and allowed to take a dog home if the student has refused to learn
cleanup and if it is clear that the student will leave dog droppings for the rest of
the public to see, smell, and step in. That's part of the responsibility we as dog
users accept, and most dog schools do not do what I suggest, relying on the
"relieve-when-undressed routine" and not requiring cleanup. They are wrong,
and we should tell them so until we change it.
     I think it's because they think we can't or won't do it. Perhaps it is
because of this low image of blind people that the schools condescend to blind
people in a thousand small and inappropriate ways while they are in training:
train the blind person that he or she and the dog should sit in the bulkhead on
airplanes; ask that the dog be seen once a year throughout the dog's working
life by a school trainer; and decline to transfer ownership of the dog to the blind
handler. It all fits together. 
     My point here is that the dog schools under-train and mis- train according
to their skewed view of blind people. When we bring the schools to convention
"to learn from them" as you advise, we will learn this. Instead, we should be
bringing the schools to convention to teach them: teach them what we can really
do, teach them what we really want, teach them to be more respectful of blind
persons. We're not doing any of that.
     When we reprint their news releases, we fall into the same error. I've
never read a release from a dog school in the newsletter that I thought did
anything other than brag about the school and/or denigrate blind people. So I
wouldn't have printed a one of them. But we periodically print material from
outsiders in our publications for the purpose of teaching why the material is
wrong. You can print the whole thing if you like; in fact, it's more effective to
show the blind community what someone erroneously thinks if you reprint the
person's own words. But you don't just reprint. You analyze. You explain the
errors. You provide context. You teach. That's the Federation. We are the
experts on blindness, and we teach our understandings to others, not the other
way around.
     You ask if I have ever been a newsletter editor and imply that, since I have
not, I should not criticize you for using whatever solutions you can think of to fill
the newsletter. Bill, I have edited newsletters, and I know it is not always easy to
find material. That is really the biggest part of any editor's job, not production or
mailing. But that does not change the nature of the publication. Are we going to
be a mouthpiece for the dog schools, or are we going to develop through the
newsletter and other means our own understanding of dog use and what it
means to blind people?
     Another example of this low expectation by dog schools of blind persons
is their fund raising. Have you ever seen a video from one of the dog schools? I
have. It is a degrading experience. The tapes are fund-raising tools, and the
theme is to show how helpless a blind person is without a dog and how happy
he or she is with one. One dimension of this is that, in order to raise money, the
schools have to dramatize a problem. However, they dramatize it in a way that is
demeaning to blind persons. Another dimension is that blind dog users
themselves are some of the participants, describing their feelings of
helplessness without a dog and of security with one.
     This again makes a point I have previously made. Our own views of
ourselves are the most important things we have when dealing with the public. If
we believe we cannot do normal things without a dog and can do them once the
dog is there to do them for us, then our own self-image is pretty low. In addition,
what kind of public image of blind people is being purveyed by these video
tapes? And the fund-raising letters I have seen from dog schools are just as
bad. 
     Those of us who use our dogs extensively, flexibly, and effectively do not
buy the dog-school view of blind persons. We get the training and go home with
a dog trained very, very well to obedience and the desire to work with a human
being. From there we move on to what we ourselves want. As I mentioned
before, flexible, competent dog users not only dispense with the nonsense that
the dog is in charge. They go on to add specific points of training that the
schools do not think of or that they reject. If the schools opened their minds to
the idea that they may be the experts on dogs but that we are the experts on
blindness, then much more training could be done at the school and much less
nonsense given out.
     Most schools employ very good dog trainers. The problem is that the
trainers are experts on dogs, not blindness. Why on earth would we blind people
listen to experts on dogs expounding on the issue of blindness? They should be
listening to us as the experts on blindness because they should be training the
dogs for us, not training us for the dogs.
     I don't think there's all that much difference between schools. I know that
each school has a devoted group of loyal graduates and that most people
satisfied with one dog go back to the same school for new ones. But I still don't
see much essential difference other than geographical distribution. There may
be small differences in length of program, treatment of people getting second
dogs, and rooming arrangements. But the essential things--good breeding, good
puppy-raising, limited view of blind persons, limited training of dogs--are shared
by most schools. I don't think it matters if you know someone before you go.
What matters is if you know yourself as a blind person, know really good cane
skills, and know that you will be trained in a limited way with a dog trained
likewise. If you have all these things behind you, then you can use the dog as it
should be used and train it yourself when you leave the school to do the things
you really want it to do, not just what the schools tell you.
     We are the experts on blindness. We should decide what we want from
travel tools. We have done this with cane travel. I think we should get busy and
do the same thing for dogs. We should set the standard. 

7. Differing Philosophies
     Let me note how startled I was to read you quoting the pragmatist William
James's definition of truth. Yes, I agree. There is a sense in which whatever
works is true. But there are different levels of working, different levels of
freedom and competence for blind people. It also worked to sit in a rocking
chair. Families with blind people who did so usually fed and cared for them. But
would you want that kind of life? It's not just what works. It's also what is
possible, and that's where the Federation comes in. From its founding, the
Federation refused to accept what works as the only test. Blind people began to
dream, to imagine what was possible, and to work to make what was possible
into what was real. The founders would be surprised and pleased at how quickly
we have made the possible into the real for so many. Yet there is still a long way
to go. I suggest that we not declare dogs as they are currently trained and used
to be perfect. Instead, let's think about ways to make them and ourselves better.
That would be another important part of truth that James wasn't thinking about
when he equated what works with what's true. For us, what is true should be
what is possible, and that is a great deal more than we now have. 
     Now let me turn to your letter, Paul. I have worked for over twenty years
as a social worker, mostly in hospital settings. I have worked in emergency
rooms; in crisis intervention, including potential suicides; and in group and
individual counseling for substance abusers and patients with head trauma, to
name only a few of my assignments. I thought I couldn't be surprised by
anything, because I've experienced so much in my working life. But your letter
surprised me. 
     You characterize my letter to you as angry and filled with emotion. While I
recognize that it is hard to judge one's own work, I know the effort I put into
trying to deal with a very difficult subject with a minimum of characterization and
emotion. I think I achieved that goal.
     Before answering your letter, I want to deal directly with your statement
that I am angry. While we spent a lot of time together in the late 1980's, I don't
recall speaking to you between the 1992 Convention in Charlotte and the 1995
Convention in Chicago. As you know, I was married in 1993, and I can
emphatically assure you that I have never been happier in my life. 
     I find myself at a loss in answering your letter. As you take up each of my
points, you first seem to be disagreeing and starting to refute each of them.
However, reading on in your letter in each subsection, it became clear to me
that you basically agreed with each of the points I made. While we may differ on
detail or method of expression, our views seem to be largely overlapping.
Therefore, I will concentrate on the five areas about which I thought our
disagreement was the most apparent. 
     Taboo. You begin the substance of your letter by affirming that the topic
of guide dogs is largely sacrosanct. I, of course think it is not. You base your
opinion on the need to protect the feelings of the people who have chosen to
use dogs. Please remember that I have also made that choice. I have had a dog
guide since 1985 and still use him every day. But you actually make my point for
me. You say that, because of the feelings of individuals, this topic cannot be
discussed openly and honestly. I disagree. 
     In the Federation we talk openly and honestly about the failures of
rehabilitation professionals even though the feelings of those workers are very
deep and strong. In the Federation we talk about the high illiteracy rate among
blind people even though some people in the discussion are themselves unable
to read, and many people who stay out of the discussion lack the same skill.
Feelings about one's ability to read are very strong. Yet, we think the topic so
important that we insist on discussing it, making change for the future even
when individuals failed by the system may personally feel uncomfortable with
the topic. Likewise, we talk about acquiring personal skills, personal
self-confidence, and mobility skills--all areas in which some blind people have
been failed by the system and about which some may feel uncomfortable. You
have not demonstrated that there is any reason to treat attitudes about and use
of a guide dog differently from any of these other subjects. You have merely
asserted that there is a difference. I don't think so. And by extensively
discussing it yourself, you have implicitly conceded my point even to the degree
that you suggest I write in more detail about a number of subjects.
      Dog Schools. Again, on the topic of dog schools you astonished me. I
remember lengthy discussions we had when we both lived in Reno. You were
very firm and clear in your views then. You thought as I did that the dog schools
have a very false, very demeaning image of blind people. That's one of the
reasons you train your own dogs. You personally prefer not to attend any of
those schools. We both thought then, and I still think, that the dog schools
imagine blind people as helpless without dogs, and this specifically includes
blind people using canes. I remember seeing a film put out by a dog school in
which every blind person testifying about the dogs explained how helpless he or
she was before getting a dog, how unsafe and frightened he or she felt
whenever using a cane. I remember thinking that the film was really aimed at
making the sighted public feel sorry for the blind so they would donate
generously to the dog school. I also remember thinking how very limited the
dog school's image of blind people was. 
     You and I used to agree that the dog schools imagine the blind dog user
as not likely to go very many places, encounter very many challenges, or need
much more than the ability to walk down a simple street sidewalk. You and I
used to agree that the dog schools under-train dogs to this low standard when
dogs can be trained to do much more, and that most good dog users provide
lots of additional training after leaving the school. As a matter of fact, you
helped me to do some of that additional training. You and I used to agree on all
this. I still believe it. And I think you do, too, even though your letter is
ambivalent.
     Ingratitude. I was startled by your repeated assertion that I am ungrateful
for my dog. I was not aware that gratitude was a part of the equation. That's the
kind of talk rehabilitation professionals engage in when they are among
themselves and are fussing about their blind clients. They complain that we're
not grateful to them for all the things they do for us. That's the kind of thinking
that has led to so much lack of opportunity for blind people. 
     I don't think gratitude has anything to do with dogs. The dog schools are
well paid for what they do, and I think they do only part of the job they could.
Most importantly, I don't think the dog is an occasion for gratitude. It's one of
the methods I use to get around. Imposing on me and every dog user a
requirement that we be grateful to the schools for our dogs suggests that we
should not think about the quality of dogs, the quality of training, or the quality
of treatment. We should not analyze. We should not criticize. We should not
suggest improvements. We should be grateful for what we have and accept it in
silent thanks. If that's what you really think, then you certainly have changed
your views. I have not. 
     My dog Trevor is a good dog. He was well bred, well cared for, and well
trained up to a point by his school. He has become better trained in order to
meet my needs. However, I don't think any of this calls for a lifetime of gratitude
to the school on my part. The school's job was finished when I left.
     Guide Dogs as a Shield. You say that your guide dog provides you with a
shield against the public and their attitudes toward blindness. You go on to say
that this is one of the reasons that you use a dog. You have made my point for
me. 
     When I talk about avoidance, Bill says that he isn't avoiding anything
because his dog makes him quite conspicuous to the public. He says that, when
the public talks to his dog, he can stop and tell them about issues concerning
blindness. You, on the contrary, say that the public sees the dog as being in
charge of the blind person; therefore, you don't have to be bothered by
interference from the public at all. Aside from these two concepts being
inconsistent, I want to agree with you to a point. It is my experience, as it is your
experience, that the public tends to leave me alone when I am traveling with my
dog. (Oddly enough, when I use my cane in this friendly little town, passing
strangers greet me casually, something they don't usually do when I have my
dog.) I think this public leaving us alone is because they think the dog is taking
care of me, leading me where I want to go, making decisions to protect my
safety. I do not find this to be the same liberating experience that you describe.
Rather, I feel that a burden is being added. 
     The public attitudes we are both talking about are those that assume I
cannot take care of myself, find the places I want to go for myself, or protect my
safety by myself. My first reaction in reading your "dog as a shield" response to
these public attitudes is that I have done the same thing myself. My second
reaction is to say to myself that cane users feel exactly the same way about
avoiding public interference. They don't want to be pestered, bothered, and
interfered with. Cane users and dog users want the same thing: respect from the
public instead of assumptions by the public about their inability. The difficulty
arises not from the travel tool itself, but from the public's reaction to it, and then
from our reaction to the public reaction. 
     When a cane user walks down the street, the public's assumptions that
blind people cannot take care of themselves, find destinations, and protect their
own safety, are necessarily affected. Whether the public thinks consciously
about it or not, the blind person is alone, proceeding purposefully, having gotten
there safely somehow. By seeing a blind person by himself or herself and in
control, the public's erroneous assumptions are necessarily eroded, weakened,
and changed by one such experience. The more times it happens, the more
changing of attitudes occurs. Contrast this with the same blind person walking
down the street with a dog. In this case the public attitudes are buttressed,
reinforced, strengthened.
     This is true because the public has two choices to explain the blind
person's presence: either the blind person is in charge or the dog is in charge.
Given public attitudes (and you and I have often discussed this very point),
many members of the public will choose to believe that the dog is in charge.
You know what I mean. How many times have you and I both heard comments
from the public as we walk by with our dogs such as: "Oh, look. That dog is
taking him where he wants to go." "Oh, you have a good friend there, who is
taking good care of you." "You take good care of him now" (addressed directly
to the dog). 
     When I give these examples, I am not saying that cane use is better than
dog use. What I am saying is that the benefit you state of being left alone is a
benefit you pay for by the price of leaving the impression that the dog is in
charge. Bill deals indirectly with this when he states that cane users are objects
of pity to the public while dog users get friendly comments about the dog,
giving the opportunity to teach about blindness. I specifically and completely
disagree with Bill on this point. I think the negative effect is greater when using
a dog. 
     Another example of this comes from my former employment in a 320-bed
general medical/surgical hospital, where my duties took me throughout the
facility on a daily basis. I used my dog about half the time and my cane the
other half. People with whom I worked for years were often astonished to see
me in wards and corridors far from my office and without my dog. Invariably
someone would comment that he or she did not know I could find my way
around without my dog.
     In other words, we may shield ourselves from the public's overtly
pestering us, but we do it at the price of slightly reinforcing negative attitudes
every time we are seen. We must oppose this myth that the dog is in charge--a
myth believed by much of the public; the dog schools; and, I think, all too many
blind dog users. The first step in opposing this myth is to stop pretending it
does not exist and tell the truth: it does.
     There are two basic assumptions here: blind people cannot get around
safely, and blind people need dogs to lead them around safely. To respond to
the first assumption, I can join with other people in the National Federation of
the Blind and work to eliminate the assumption that we cannot get around. The
second assumption, that we need dogs, is much deeper and harder to eliminate.
This is true for three reasons.
     First, if my incapacity to get around due to blindness can be fixed, so to
speak, by a dog, the fix brings me to the level of a dog, not of a human being.
That is not very flattering to me. Second, if my choice of travel tool is partly
based on my unwillingness to interact directly with the public, then I have given
up many opportunities to change public attitudes. I might mention here that you
and I agree that most of the interaction we dog users have with the public is of
the "what a beautiful dog" variety, which does not lend itself to teaching about
blindness despite what Bill says. You cannot just start talking about equality and
opportunity and the National Federation of the Blind when someone is
condescending to you and being patronizing to your dog. Oh, sure. You can
utter any words you like, but the condescender is simply not going to hear you
or understand your message. 
     I am not saying that use of dogs is bad. I am saying that use of dogs has
specific effects on public attitudes. Knowing these effects, I have chosen to
work as hard as I can to help the National Federation of the Blind change public
attitudes in other ways, and I urge all blind persons, regardless of choice of
travel tool, to do the same.
     Third, the very great danger in using a dog as a shield between the blind
person and public attitudes is that the blind person will come to believe, whether
consciously or unconsciously, more than a little of the public attitudes--believe
that the dog is taking care of him or her, is finding destinations, is assuring
safety. The dog is an information-gathering aid, through which we learn vital
information about the environment. If a dog user comes to believe, even a little,
that the dog is in charge, making the decisions, providing the safety, then that
blind person to that extent has accepted the erroneous notion that blind people
cannot do the job for themselves. To that extent the blind person is no different
from the public against whom he or she has chosen to use the dog as a shield. 
     Visual Aids. The last point I want to make in response to your letter is
your introduction of the term "visual aid" to describe your dog. I think this is a
misuse of English. A visual aid is a device that augments one's own vision such
as a magnifier or a closed-circuit television. You are not using the term "visual
aid" in this sense. Rather, you are using it to signify that the dog is a source of
vision, trained to walk in certain ways by your side so that you can gather
information from its use of its vision. That may be one way of describing use of
a guide dog. But it's not a visual aid. 
     I object to your use of the term "visual aid" for a second reason. As I said
in my first letter, it is all too easy for persons using dogs or thinking of getting
them to fall into the trap of thinking the dog is replacement vision for the sight
one has lost. It's not. Misleading people by calling a dog a "visual aid" into
thinking that they are getting sight in the same sense that people have sight is
inappropriate. As you say, the dog can be distracted, giving false signals when
it's just interested in some good-smelling grass or the traces of a dog that
passed by earlier. Pretending that using a dog is almost like being sighted is
going to get any dog user into trouble. It is unsafe and can lead the user to rely
on and act on the dog's reasoning instead of relying on and acting on the user's
own human ability to reason.
     As you can see, I do not think the discussion of topics concerning dogs is
sacrosanct. Neither, I think, do you. I will look forward to hearing from you and
others on this subject. It's open, honest discussion that will strengthen all blind
people as it will improve our understanding of who we are and how we interact
with the world around us. 
     Paul, you say I have changed and that I won't make any friends by raising
these subjects. I didn't raise them to make friends. Rather, I raised them
because I don't think anyone is now talking publicly about them and because I
think public discussion about them will help all of us come to a better
understanding about blindness and ourselves. 
     On the subject of who has changed, I think it is you. We used to discuss
many of these topics as friends and fellow dog users when we both lived in
Reno. I have been surprised that you did not raise these subjects after you were
elected president of the Division. I have learned some important things from
you, and I think you should be teaching those same things to other dog users. 
     You say I have attacked people's use of their dogs. I disagree. The topics
I raise are general, and if someone feels attacked, I am sorry for that and would
ask the person to think again about what I have said. I am a dog user myself,
and these are thoughts from personal experience, upon which I have reflected
long and hard. If we live by myths, then reality can come as a cold shock. I
suggest we would be better to live by truth and to put our efforts into learning
what that truth is by discussing these topics together. That's what the Federation
is all about. 
     Both you and Bill say you have treated me harshly. I disagree with that,
too. I invited discussion, and you both entered into the discussion with me. We
are far from agreement, but at least there is now a chance to work on that.
Instead of attacking or accusing of attack, instead of speaking harshly or
accusing of anger, instead of claiming we already know all we need to know,
why don't we try honesty and discussion? It's the best way. 

                                                Sincerely yours, 
                                                     Doug Elliott


[Photo #9 Caption: Dr. Elizabeth Browne and her dog]

     BATTLE OF THE DOGS, OR GOTTA QUIT KICKIN' MY DOG AROUND
                   by Dr. Elizabeth J. Browne

          Every time I go downtown
          The boys keep kickin' my dog around.
          Ain't no difference if she is a hound
          Gotta quit kickin' my dog around!

          Me and my dog and Mr. Browne
          Thought we'd take ourselves to town.
          When we got there, we soon found
          Somebody kickin' my dog around!

     Those are not quite the precise words of the old song, but I'm sure, you
get the idea. Somebody, perhaps a monster from outer space, has very cleverly
descended upon our fair Federation and solemnly declared that there is an
argument brewing, a veritable competition among users of dogs and white
canes and sighted guides.
     I choose not to enter such a tempest, but would rather lay out my tale
(spelled t-a-l-e) for the interested combatants engaged in this mighty
tournament. For me, it is simply a non-argument.
     The whole affair reminds me of an episode in Henry David Thoreau's
Walden, in which he cleverly describes a battle he once witnessed in his own
backyard--the only battlefield he ever trod. Briefly, one morning, Thoreau
noticed out in his yard on his woodpile a colony of ants, black ones and red
ones, busily engaged in their ant-like chores: tidying up things, laying in
supplies for the winter, whatever these busy little critters do to earn them the
title of "busy as ants." (Pardon me, I guess that was supposed to be "busy as
bees." Well, you get the point.)
     This episode in the daily life of Thoreau then turns into a mock epic--an
extended metaphor, a clever analogy of the futility of internecine warfare, a
foolish battling among men--when the red ants go to war with the black ants.
     Thoreau begins describing the ants in insect terminology, but soon slips
into anthropomorphic usage, thus turning his little scene from ant fighting
against ant into man contending against man, making clear his underlying theme
of the futility of war.
     He notices that the black ants, far larger than the red ones, engage in a
violent struggle to the death, and I paraphrase for you:

     As I looked on, one of the much smaller red ants was engaged
     mightily in a struggle to the death with one of the much larger black
     ants. They locked onto each other's forelegs, and one ant ripped off
     one of the other ant's legs at the joint. The other, enraged, was
     assiduously gnawing at the feelers of his opponent. Then it became
     two against one, locked fearlessly to the death. The trio fought on
     as valiantly as any human soldier at the battle of Bull Run or the
     beaches of Normandy.

Eventually, Thoreau carried the little warriors, mightily battling upon a wood
chip, into his house to set them upon his window sill under a "tumbler" in order
to witness the ultimate issue of the struggle. ("Tumbler." I must tell you about
that word "tumbler" later on. It has significant connotations, but not here.) He
noticed the following:

     They fought on, probably charged by their mothers to return "with
     their shields or upon them." One probably went off to Hotel des
     Invalides; whereas, the other less victorious ant tottered off, legless,
     eyeless to probably another futile battle.

     Well, I find this non-debate about guide dogs versus white canes as
pointless as the boys downtown kickin' my dog around, or Thoreau likening
human warfare to that of little ants, ripping and slashing at each other on his
wood pile, or, I suppose, in the words of the great immortal Shakespeare, "Much
ado about nothing."
     If we continue wasting our time debating this, or spinning our white canes
to determine which is better, we are losing time with real substantive issues. We
must return all our energies to helping each other achieve good education, good
training, and good jobs rather than this quibbling of cane against dog against
walking with a sighted guide.
     Let me clearly and boldly state my thesis: Blindness as beauty in the eye
of the beholder, our public, is blindness pure and simple, with all its fears and
misunderstandings and stereotypes. Nobody is going to change that, whether a
full professor, or a well-known statesman, or a simple, humble citizen. We are
still seen by anyone who can see as blind. We are blind, and no means of
mobility we choose to use will ever camouflage that condition. What does it
matter what we use: guide dog, cane or walking with a sighted guide! These are
personal decisions and must not, must never, sidetrack us, booby trap us, into
arguing over personal tastes for fear that we will overlook the real problems we
face.
     I boldly, here and now, dare to state that the real problem, the real enemy,
is the stereotype of blindness, and not whether we use a guide dog, use a white
cane, or walk along with a sighted guide. If someone chooses to walk with a
sighted guide all the time, always choosing the convenience of walking with
one's spouse or secretary or whoever is available, guess what, fellow
Federationists! The onlookers see us as that blind man or that blind woman or
that blind child.
     Let nobody fool us. We are blind, and it is not the cane or the dog or
sighted guide that turns people off. It is first and last and always just blindness.
Until we cease this foolish non-argument and face the fact that blindness is the
thing wherein we catch the conscience of the public, and focus all our effort on
changing laws which restrict us from obtaining our rightful share in society, we
are like Thoreau's warring ants, engaged in a battle which goes nowhere, and
creates unnecessary tension, ill will, and a bad public image.
     If we waste our time debating this issue, waste our time claiming that if
you use a long white cane or a sighted guide you will be more accepted by the
public, we have lost the real war. It is our blindness that the others who are not
blind have a hard time accepting and understanding. If we wander into a
meeting, the grocery store, a theater, a classroom, a court room, wherever, with
a cane, a dog, or a sighted guide, they still see us as we are, blind, partially
sighted, visually impaired--BLIND!
     I'd rather go with that marvelous dictum of the singer Eartha Kitt:

          de gustibus non disputandum est
          Is what I learned in school.
          Which simply means,
          You should do what you like to do best!
          It's really up to you!



[Photo #10 Portrait Caption: Floyd Matson]

                    THE NATURE OF THE CHOICE
                         by Floyd Matson

     As most Federationists know, I am not blind, nor do I have any great
knowledge about the intricacies of mobility for the blind. Yet, I have other
credentials. For almost fifty years I have been closely associated with blind
people and the organized blind movement.
     My first introduction to blindness came in the late forties at the University
of California at Berkeley when I met and began to work with Dr. tenBroek.
Initially I was his student. Then, as I moved into graduate studies and began to
do research, we worked as colleagues and co-authors. Later, I edited the
Monitor and did extensive writing for it.
     During the course of these activities I met and became well-acquainted
with an increasing number of blind persons. I visited in their homes; they visited
in mine; and we interacted in the community--going together to restaurants,
meetings of various kinds, state conventions, and NFB conventions.
     My first NFB convention was in Milwaukee in 1953, and with notable gaps
here and there, I have attended most of the conventions since. I serve as an
officer in the NFB of Hawaii, and have done so for more than a decade. In the
1970's I was asked by the Federation to go to Mississippi to help with the survey
of programs for the blind in that state, and I also played a principal part in the
Hawaii survey. In short, although I am (and have been for many years) a
university professor, working mostly with sighted students and colleagues, my
main focus has centered on blindness and matters concerning the blind. My
closest associates and most intimate friends are blind, and this has been the
case for almost fifty years.
     Besides all of this, I suppose I don't need to mention the fact that I am the
author of Walking Alone and Marching Together. The research for that 1200-
page tome involved not only extensive reading but also lengthy and intense
observation and reflection. It was certainly one of the major research efforts of
my life, and it symbolizes and underlines my commitment to the struggle of the
blind to achieve full citizenship and first-class status in society.
     With all of this background it is surely no exaggeration to say that I have
had what might conservatively be characterized as ample opportunity to observe
in a wide variety of settings the interplay of blind people with each other, with
their dogs and canes, with sighted people accustomed to being with blind
people, and with sighted people not accustomed to being with blind people.
From this base of observation I have come to believe that most of the talk I have
heard through the years regarding dogs and canes fails to deal with the central
philosophical question.
     To clear away the clutter, I begin by presenting thirteen statements which
summarize what I have heard most often. I stipulate that I believe each and
every one of these statements to be true--and mostly irrelevant:

     1. Some blind people who use dogs have excellent mobility skills.

     2. Some blind people who use canes have excellent mobility skills.

     3. Some blind people who use dogs have exceedingly poor mobility skills.

     4. Some blind people who use canes have exceedingly poor mobility
     skills.

     5. Some blind people strongly believe that it is inherently impossible to
     travel as well using a cane as using a dog.

     6. Some blind people strongly believe that it is inherently impossible to
     travel as well using a dog as using a cane.

     7. Some blind people believe an advantage in using a dog is that the dog
     serves as a social "ice breaker," making it easier to meet new people.

     8. Some blind people believe that a disadvantage in using a dog is that in
     meeting new people attention is often focused on the dog.

     9. Some blind people have tried both cane and dog and strongly prefer to
     use a dog.

     10. Some blind people have tried both cane and dog and strongly prefer
     to use a cane.

     11. Some blind people have tried both cane and dog and like to use the
     dog in some circumstances and the cane in others.

     12. Some blind people find the responsibilities associated with using a
     dog intolerably burdensome.

     13. Some blind people find the responsibilities associated with using a
     dog a small price to pay for the return they feel they receive.

     If these thirteen statements are true, it follows that the average blind
person (given the opportunity for training) can probably travel adequately using
either cane or dog, and the choice of which to use is largely a matter of
personal preference. If there were nothing more to it than that, then we as a
Federation not only could but should leave it right there: choose what suits you
best, and be done with it.
     But we do not leave it there, and I believe that the reason we do not is
that there is a question that goes far beyond a personal choice between two
adequate methods of mobility. That question is one of very basic philosophy
and, as such, one that we as a Federation should deal with in the same way that
we have dealt with virtually every other significant issue affecting how blind
people function in the world and how they are perceived by themselves and the
broader society--that is, with rigorous and unemotional analysis.
     Before I can pose the question, I must lay the foundation for it. Society
requires from each of its fully participating adult members a pattern of conduct,
customs, responsibilities, and manners that cannot be violated without penalty.
Those who stray significantly from that pattern are either incarcerated (jail or
mental institution), ostracized, shunned, or treated as inferiors or children. The
question I ask is this: Does the blind person who uses a dog necessarily have to
violate the pattern of accepted social norms to such a degree that full, first-class
membership in society on a basis of equality with others cannot be achieved or
maintained?
     If the answer to that question is yes, the inescapable conclusion that has
to follow is that using a dog is a dead end and philosophically wrong. The fact
that some will find the question unpleasant is a large part of the reason that we
in the Federation have shied away from it. Undoubtedly it is the reason for the
undercurrent of tension which increasingly exists when the dog versus cane
subject is raised. I believe that we will do our movement a tremendous
disservice if collectively we find that we are unable to put aside our emotions
and consider this matter with the same reason and objectivity that we expect
others to use in dealing with blindness and every other issue connected with it.
     I do not here wish to suggest how the question I have posed should
ultimately be answered. However, the fact that I have raised it at all must mean
that I think there is no doubt that special allowances and departures from
accepted social norms are currently being asked for, rationalized, and made.
The further question is how many, how major, and to what effect. Here are some
that I have observed, and this is how I feel about them. I list them not as
complaints but as part of the reality that must be faced and dealt with.
     First and most obvious is simply the presence of the dog. It is not a
customarily accepted social pattern for a guest to arrive at your home, an
employee to show up at work, a traveling companion to occupy the seat beside
you, a dinner guest to join you at a restaurant, or a fellow car-pooler to enter
your car with an uninvited dog. The presence of the dog is imposed upon the
willing and the unwilling alike. The law requires and politeness dictates
toleration, but neither means that a price is not paid.
     The situation in many ways is not unlike that of an adult who shows up
with an uninvited child. In our society it is not acceptable for a guest with good
manners to do this. But if one does, good manners require that the host smile
and beam and say, "Oh, how cute." Our society prescribes a different set of rules
for this situation in the employer/employee relationship. An employee with good
sense won't try it. But if one does, the employer speaks firmly and puts a stop to
it. In either case the offending adult pays a price--and, unless the individual is
totally lacking in perception, knows that a price has been paid.
     Moving beyond the mere uninvited presence of the dog, we come to the
circumstances which make the situation worse than they would be in the case of
the uninvited child. We come to the dog's needs. The notion that it curls up
compactly and keeps itself out of the way, stowed neatly under its owner's chair,
is a complete myth. No, it is worse than that. It is a painful conspiracy of
pretense to keep from hurting the feelings of the dog's owner. In a crowded car,
at a restaurant table, or on an airplane, the dog is on everyone's feet. And as
often as not, it drools, licks, sheds, and smells. One's clothes, car, carpet,
furniture, and person are violated. The law requires and politeness dictates--but
one grits one's teeth and smiles and lies, and feels pity. And (unpleasant and
painful though it is to say) one hopes that the blind person with the dog will take
some other seat, not the one next to you--that an occasion will not arise that
compels the offer of a ride in your car, an invitation to your home for dinner, or
the necessity of everyday contact in the work place.
     These are the ordinary, the everyday problems in best case situations
when all goes well--when the dog is healthy, is not under stress, is well-
groomed, and is under control of a well-trained, competent and responsible
owner--when it is not raining and not unbearably hot--when there are not other
dogs or animals around--and when the nearest relief area is not far away. When
these perfect circumstances don't exist (and they often don't), the
unpleasantness imposed upon the associates of the dog user increases
dramatically. There are wet fur and muddy paws, more smell, vomit, urine, feces,
disruption. Usually not all of these things occur at once, of course. But anyone
who has been around blind people using guide dogs on more than an
occasional basis has endured them all, and has endured them more than once.
The law requires and politeness dictates--but one grits one's teeth harder;
smiles less; and, above all, feels more pity. And one hopes more fervently that
the blind person with the dog will find some other seat, be offered a ride in
somebody else's car, and be invited to another home for dinner.
     There is a generally accepted pattern of manners and responsibilities that
society requires of its fully participating adults. Guide-dog users not only ask for
and expect an exemption from this pattern of manners and responsibilities but
must have that exemption if they are to continue to use a dog for mobility. But
what does this do to the blind person? What does it do to acquaintances,
associates, and friends? Is it simply a matter between owner and dog--and
nobody else's business as long as the owner is willing to assume the
responsibility and pay the price? Not really--for others are forced to pay the
price as well: sighted associates and, even more important, all other blind
people.
     Again, the analogy of the small child has relevance. Both the child and the
dog require reassurance. They are told, "good girl" or "good boy." They are
patted and told to be still, to hush, not to squirm. They distract the adult
responsible for their behavior and well-being, and they insure that his or her
attention is divided between child or dog and other matters at hand.
     This, of course, is why there are many situations in our society when it is
not appropriate or advantageous to take a child. The distraction and divided
attention that are required extract a price. Does anyone seriously consider
taking his or her young child to a job interview, to make a sales presentation to
an important customer, to deliver a critical speech, to appear on a television
program, or to any other event where one wants to create the very best
impression possible? The person who does is not regarded as having good
judgment. In extenuating circumstances, on a very occasional basis, perhaps it
can be gotten away with. But can it be done all the time, every day, everywhere?
Such a person simply will not be competitive with his or her peers. 
     And the analogy with the child has permutations and must be clearly
understood--for the very time when the dog user needs the dog most is the time
that would be least appropriate for the child--job, formal social occasion, critical
interview, large crowd, or complicated circumstances. The dog user may never
know why this or that opportunity didn't come or why a promotion was not
achieved or a situation didn't work out better than it did--may fully believe that
all went as well as it could have gone. After all, if one is not even aware that one
is breaking society's code of acceptable conduct, how can one possibly know
that a price is being paid or understand the consequences? And as I have said,
it is not just the individual using the dog who pays. It is all of his or her
associates, and it is other blind people.
     These are some of the observations I have made during my lifetime of
association with blind people, and why I do not believe that the issue can merely
be considered as something involving two competing mobility methods. And I
hope that those who find my comments painful will not try to avoid the issue by
making rationalizations and accusations. For instance, it will do no good to say
that my comments can be explained on the simple ground that I am a dog-hater.
Not so. I have owned dogs for the greater part of my life. One of my closest
companions when I was a small boy was my dog, and I only stopped having
dogs as pets and as friends in my home when I moved into an apartment and
didn't have the space. No, I have never been a dog-hater. On the other hand, I
have never taken my dog with me to work or to critical interviews or the homes
of other people. In other words I have not only lived by the accepted norms on
the subject, but I think they are reasonable and necessary for the pleasant and
efficient functioning of society. I support them.
     While I'm at it, let me block one more line of rationalization. I am not
hostile to guide dogs. My record on that subject is very clear. I have vocally and
persistently fought to change Hawaii's quarantine laws concerning guide dogs
and have defended guide-dog users from criticism. My comments are not meant
to be a personal attack but a plea for self-examination and organizational
honesty.
     Yes, cane and dog are two different methods of travel for the blind. But in
choosing one or the other, an individual may be choosing much more than a
mere travel method. Perhaps he or she may also be choosing exclusion from
the possibility of achieving real equality in society--and not just for himself or
herself but, at least to some extent, for all other blind people as well. This is the
philosophical question I pose, and I feel absolutely certain that it will not go
away or permit itself to be ignored. In fact, I believe we dishonor our heritage
and do damage to the blind of the generations ahead if (regardless of how
painful, how sensitive, or how raw the nerve) we do not summon the courage to
deal with the issue at this basic level.


[Photo #11 Caption: Scott LaBarre]

               THE TRUE NATURE OF SELF-CONFIDENCE
                        by Scott LaBarre 

     I became blind at age ten. At that time, my parents and I were stricken
with an overwhelming sense of tragedy and utter desperation. To this day, one
moment remains chillingly clear in my memory. When I realized that I would
always be blind, I went running into the living room of our home screaming in
sheer panic. Even though I was only ten, I felt as if my life was over. All my
confidence in myself and hope for my future were shattered.
     While I was in high school and before I met the Federation, I wondered if I
would ever find the source of true self-confidence. More accurately, I thought I
never would. My school and the state agency thought they had the answer. The
St. Paul School District, in cooperation with Minnesota State Services for the
Blind, ran a program called SWEP, Summer Work Experience Program. The first
few weeks of the program were spent in a residential setting, where our
blindness skills were allegedly evaluated. There were several local attractions
which we liked to frequent such as pizza places, fast food restaurants, and the
like. In order to travel to these locations independently, each student had to
obtain clearance from the mobility instructors working in the program. Each
student was required to demonstrate to an instructor that he or she could travel
the route safely and independently. Those of us who were totally blind or nearly
so had to demonstrate perfect command of the route. Any mistake meant that
our clearance would be denied. A veer of a foot or two out of a street crosswalk
spelled failure. On the other hand, students with partial vision were given
clearance without testing or with very casual testing. Most of the time a student
with residual vision would merely have to describe to the instructor the location
of the pizza place or whatever it was.
     This program sent the very clear message that totally blind people were
more dependent than those with a little residual vision. Less was expected of the
totally blind. More sight led directly to greater opportunity. According to the
program, self-confidence had nothing to do with a positive belief about
blindness. Rather, it was a result of how much sight an individual was lucky
enough to possess. In these circumstances I concluded that I would have to
depend on something or someone else in order to travel independently. That is
why I thought that a guide dog was the only real answer. I thought the dog
would help me get to places that I could not have reached on my own.
     Right after high school I fortunately found the National Federation of the
Blind, or (more precisely) the Federation found me when it gave me a national
scholarship. At my very first convention, I witnessed hundreds of blind persons
traveling confidently with their canes and their dogs in places unfamiliar to them.
It had never occurred to me that this was possible. All these individuals
exhibited a solid self-confidence, which was both admirable and contagious. For
the first time I understood that true self-confidence comes from within.
     The most dramatic personal growth I have experienced has come directly
from my involvement in the National Federation of the Blind. Since age ten, my
attitudes about myself have evolved, starting with the belief that my life would be
unbridled misery and changing to the belief that blindness is nothing more than
another physical characteristic. The Federation encouraged me to grow and to
reflect on the true source of self-confidence as part of that growth. Today I am
better able than ever before in my life to identify the elements of self-confidence
and to understand how to achieve it.
     To grow effectively, we who are blind must confront our own fears about
blindness. One of the most daunting fears is traveling independently. In fact, of
all of the classes offered at our training centers, travel is feared the most.
Because of the negative attitudes that have been drummed into our heads since
we were young, we have often bought into the notion that it is difficult--if not
impossible--for the blind to travel.
     That is why it can be so easy to fall prey, as I did, to the belief that a
guide dog delivers freedom to the blind. This belief is corrosive to any fragile
self-confidence not deeply grounded in the understanding that we can compete
successfully as blind people. If we are going to be first-class citizens in our
society, we must not mistake who is primarily responsible for our lives. We are.
To be free, we must understand that our success on the job or walking down the
street is not tied to dogs, or to other humans. If a guide dog gets sick or has an
emergency, the blind person still must be able to travel confidently. However, if
the blind person believes that he or she must rely on another person or a guide
dog to do so, then the blind person has not acquired self-confidence. A guide
dog is another tool available to blind persons. Guide dogs are no different from
reading machines or speech synthesizers. All three are vehicles that we can use
to access information.
     It seems to me that many blind persons try to substitute use of a guide
dog for the work required to gain self-confidence. In doing so, they have missed
the important truth that self-confidence can only come from one source--from
within yourself. The importance of gaining self-confidence is why it is crucial that
we all learn to travel safely and efficiently with a cane. When you use a cane,
there can be no mistake about the true source of self-belief. When you cross a
busy intersection for the first time, you realize that only one person
accomplished that feat: you yourself did it. If a guide dog is your first tool, then
it becomes all too tempting to believe that the dog crossed the street for you.
     I have worked in and spent a great deal of time around several of our NFB
training centers. As a result, I have personally observed many students,
including guide-dog users, struggle with the true source of self-confidence. The
way people--and this applies to students, too--learn to believe in themselves is
by placing themselves in situations in which they learn to depend on their own
abilities. At our training centers, we create experiences that are designed to help
blind persons learn self-confidence.
     The job of confronting attitudes about blindness and learning self-
confidence is a challenging task for anyone. It is hard work to set aside years
and years of negative attitudes and damaging misconceptions. When a student
attends one of our centers, his or her mind needs to be free from as many
distractions as possible. The student must focus energy on one task--learning to
accept on a fundamental level that blindness is nothing more than a
characteristic. Any additional responsibility or distraction that saps energy or
blurs focus can render the training unsuccessful for a student. When guide-dog
users attend our centers and bring their dogs with them, the training can be
affected. It is far too easy for dog users to believe that an important part of their
independence is tied directly to the dog. When dog users take independent
cane travel, they generally do not learn to trust themselves with a cane. They do
not attach significance to learning cane travel. When learning self-confidence at
a center, using the cane as opposed to using the dog is not the issue.
Understanding what successful cane travel means is the key. When a person
learns to travel with confidence while using the cane, there is no doubt that the
success comes from the person and from no other source.
     On the other hand, I have seen many students attribute successful travel
with their dog to the dog and not to their own ability to problem solve. This
misplaced belief often affects other areas of a student's program. If the student
does not believe that he or she can travel independently except with the dog,
then the student will find it hard to believe that he or she can cook a hamburger
or complete a woodworking project without sighted help.
     A few years ago, a young man named Kevan attended one of our centers.
His struggle illustrates my point. The plan was that he would bring the dog to
the Center but use his cane throughout the day. The dog would remain tied
down, either in a central location or with Kevan in his classes. Kevan intended to
learn the basic skills of blindness without using the dog while still providing care
for the dog.
     However, things did not go according to plan. Kevan remained dependent
on the dog. The dog also remained dependent on Kevan. The dog could not be
away from Kevan for more than a couple of minutes without barking or howling
incessantly. Kevan would then begin to feel guilty because he had left his dog
behind. At the same time, Kevan was struggling with his own beliefs about
independence. He did not believe that it was possible for him to travel to places
without using the dog. He also doubted himself in all other ares of the program.
     This student reached a point where his training had stalled. He realized
that he was far too dependent on the dog. He knew he had to find a way to
continue his growth and expand his horizons. He made a decision that was very
hard. His dog was nearing retirement age anyway, so he decided to retire her.
     Instructors and fellow students immediately noticed a significant
improvement in Kevan's progress even though it was difficult for him to part with
his companion of several years. He was now free to confront blindness on his
own terms. No longer could he divert any emotions or attention to his dog. He
learned that he could travel just as effectively with his cane and slowly began to
understand that true self-confidence came from within himself and not from his
dog. Kevan not only learned to meet any challenge posed by his blindness, but
he also dramatically increased his confidence about his abilities in general.
     When he graduated from the program, he did not know whether he would
acquire another guide dog. He knew that he could be successful with or without
a dog. If he got another dog, he would do it knowing that he alone controlled his
level of independence. Unfortunately I have lost touch with Kevan, and I do not
know if he retrained with another dog. I know that Kevan became a much more
confident individual after he dove fully into adjustment training without the dog's
being present to confuse his focus on self-confidence.
     The subject of dogs came up again recently when I was on a ten-kilometer
fundraising walk for the Denver Chapter. As the walk proceeded, people divided
into different groups, based on their walking speed. I happen to be a very fast
walker, and in my little group, there was a woman with a dog and another man
with a cane. The woman told us that she was amazed that we could walk so fast.
She further informed us that if she used a cane, she could not walk as fast as
we were walking.
     Her comment both troubled me and prompted me to think. I agree with
her that she could not have walked as fast if she had used a cane. It is not that I
believe that you can walk faster with a dog as opposed to a cane. Rather, I
believe that this person could not walk as fast with a cane because she believed
that she could not. It is not the cane or the dog which limits us. Only we can do
that to ourselves.
     My experience at our training centers and my overall encounters with
blind people have taught me a great deal about the true nature of self-
confidence. There is only one person in the world who can control your
confidence, and that person is you. As blind people, our confidence and our
belief in ourselves is constantly challenged. When we travel about the world, we
are perpetually being confronted. Most people assume that we are not aware of
our environment and could not possibly possess a clue about our destination.
Therefore, we must be confident in our belief that we can travel from point to
point successfully. We must also possess enough belief in ourselves to
convince others that we are competent.
     The blind are closer to true freedom in our society than we have ever
been. That has not happened because of technology or the use of guide dogs.
That has happened because we have organized in the National Federation of the
Blind with a purpose and a belief. Our freedom collectively and our confidence
individually come from a positive belief in the abilities of the blind. There is no
other source for our self-confidence. If we do not recognize this fact at a
fundamental level, then we will never take the remaining steps to achieve real
freedom.


[Photo #12 Caption: Richard Fox]

          REFLECTIONS ON INDEPENDENCE AND MY DOG GUIDE
                         by Richard Fox

     In the fall of 1983, at the age of 31, I decided to get a dog guide. I enjoyed
traveling with a cane and was good at it. Midtown Manhattan had been my home
and my travel training ground for the last six years. However, a friendship with a
dog user during college had awakened within me a quiet resolve to try his
method of travel some day. The ease and grace with which he traveled and the
bond he shared with his dog made a big impression on me.
     As I prepared to go to the Seeing Eye for training, I worried that I was
about to throw away my hard-won independence. Hadn't a half dozen blind
people told me over the years that the most difficult thing they had to learn as
new dog users was to let go and trust their dogs?
     During my second training trip with my new dog Visa, these fears were
emphatically put to rest. I was cruising down a tree-lined street when Visa pulled
me firmly to the left away from traffic. Remembering all the talk about trust, I
obediently followed her down a gentle incline. It turned out that she guided me
into a gas station because she wanted to say hello to the attendant. My
instructor, Miss Campbell, said Visa was testing me.
     "Well," I reflected, "I guess I'll have to think after all."
     About five minutes and two blocks later, I felt the same firm pull to the
left. Not wanting to play the fool again, I stubbornly kept my line of direction and
smacked into a tree. 
     "That time she was doing her job trying to guide you around the obstacle,"
Miss Campbell teased as I brushed the bark from my shirt.
     "How will I be able to tell when Visa's doing her job and when she's
goofing off?" I asked.
     Miss Campbell couldn't answer my question with a short sentence or two.
She required three and a half weeks of training (two trips a day) to teach me
how to combine the old orientation and alertness skills developed through years
of cane travel with newly acquired abilities to detect and interpret my dog's
behavior.
     For example, Visa's foray into that gas station was probably accompanied
by a sharper pull on the harness, a wagging tail, and a more rapid breathing
than usual (not to mention the ping ping I probably heard as cars entered and
exited the station). If I had allowed my dog to guide me successfully around that
tree, she would have shown none of those signs of distraction, and I would have
heard the tree's echo as I passed it by. Instead of losing my independence, I
was gaining skills involving attentiveness, leadership, intuition, patience, and
maturity.
     It occurred to me later that my fears about independence were just
another manifestation of the old stereotype concerning the helpless blind
person. Most people appreciate the skill of a good horsewoman, or the
teamwork between the hunting dog and its master. The prevailing view of a blind
person and his dog is quite different; the dog takes the blind person where he
wants to go and makes all the decisions, while the blind person hangs on to the
harness with thanksgiving in his heart and a tear of gratitude in his eyes. I am
always taken aback when I catch myself believing the old stereotype yet again.
The Federation helps us think clearly about ourselves. The learning process
never stops.


[Photo #13 Caption: Ramona Walhof]

                      INDEPENDENCE AND DOGS
                        by Ramona Walhof

     I do not want a guide dog. If dogs kept their feet on the ground and their
tongues in their mouths, it would help. If there were a good-quality doggie
deodorant, that would help. There are some days when I do not have an extra
hour or two to walk with, play with, feed, and groom a dog. I do not want to have
to clean my house, my office, my clothes, and my car more often than I now do.
Even then, it would be a struggle to keep the dog hair down. I do not want to
make emergency trips to the vet (such trips are never convenient). I do not want
to go down the street talking to a dog. I do not feel the need for an ice breaker
when dealing with passersby or other people on a bus or an airplane. I do not
want to have to worry about how other people are reacting to me and my dog,
and I think these reactions are very significant. In fact, I think far too few dog
users take into account the negative impact their dogs have on their friends and
associates and on the public at large.
     I am not complaining about dogs. Rather, I am putting in perspective
other things that I have to say. When I was a child, we had several dogs as
family pets, and I loved them. I understand the bond that can develop between a
dog and a person, and this can be extremely pleasant. Still, it is not enough in
my opinion to compensate for the negatives associated with having a dog that
must accompany me most of the time.
     Nevertheless, if I thought I could not travel independently without a dog,
and could travel effectively with one, I would probably get one and use it
enthusiastically even with all of its disadvantages. Learning independent travel
was a very liberating thing for me, and I want it to be possible for every blind
person. I want blind people to be able to go alone if they choose--into heavy
traffic, into the wilderness, through large and complicated buildings, and to
other countries. In other words, I want blind people to be able really to be
independent.
     If guide dogs were the only technique available for independent travel for
the blind, then the negatives associated with dogs would automatically become
negatives associated with blindness, and they would have to be dealt with as
such. But for most blind people, this need not be the case.
     When I went to college in Washington, D. C., in the 1960's, I took a course
which included forty other blind persons. A few traveled well with the cane. One
or two traveled well with dogs. A few more traveled with dogs and got where
they needed to go. A few with partial sight traveled with no aid. Many cane users
did not travel independently. These people had never had the opportunity to
receive good-quality cane-travel instruction. The contrast between traveling
independently and not doing so is far-reaching. It is worth some inconvenience
to be able to go where you need to go when you want to.
     We must consider: Have independent travel opportunities changed
sufficiently in the last thirty years that blind persons really have enough
knowledge and experience to choose to use a dog or a cane when they are first
developing travel skills? I am afraid not.
     I was lucky to be in a place where cane-travel instruction was excellent.
We must work to make this opportunity available to all blind persons throughout
the country. Confidence in oneself is essential before confidence in one's travel
skills can be attained. The best place to develop confidence in oneself is at an
NFB center. Yet, I know many excellent travelers who are largely self-taught.
This is most likely to be true when a blind person is in touch with others who
are competent at traveling with the white cane.
     There are more dog schools today than ever before, so many that they
are apparently much less demanding of blind persons who apply for dogs than
they formerly were. This is not progress. I cannot comment on the quality of the
various schools. I simply do not know which ones are best. I do know that I hear
more and more reports today of problems with guide dogs. Whether this is
simply because there are more guide dogs now or whether it is because the
quality of training for some of them is poorer, I do not know. I do know that
there are more problems, and the more problems there are, the more it affects
blind people generally. Problems are compounded when there are several guide
dogs in a group. Three dogs seem like a dozen if there is an accident or barking
or other discipline problems. Admired as they are, dogs tend to hurt the image
of the blind generally. Although I could elaborate on this further, it is not really
mysterious or hard to understand. It is the factor that is usually left out of the
equation in discussions like this.
     I have fought for the rights of dog users and will continue to do so as
other Federationists have and will, and the NFB as an organization will do
likewise. Yet, our goal should be to work for more and better training programs
in general competence and cane travel for the blind. This training needs to be
available to blind persons as young as possible, or immediately after the onset
of blindness. Most blind people do not feel trapped into getting guide dogs, but
if they do not readily find a path to truly independent cane travel, and if dog use
is not carefully analyzed ahead of time, it is possible gradually to move into a
pattern which can be rationalized to be wonderful, but which in fact is a trap.
     We must be honest with each other about the fact that there are
disadvantages associated with guide-dog use, not only for the user but also for
all other blind people. We have tended for a generation to glorify dog use.
Although there are times when this may be appropriate, it is not honest if we
never look at the other side of the coin.
     It is in the best interest of the blind generally, and of dog users in
particular, if the number of guide dogs decreases and if they are seldom
gathered in groups, even small groups. This is the best way to maintain good
reception for those who really cannot travel independently without them. It is
time that we who are blind confront this reality.
     Dog schools structure their environment especially for dogs. The rest of
the world cannot and will not do this. We must keep this in mind when we
decide what kind of travel technique to use, and when to use or not to use a
guide dog.
     I do not suppose my comments will be popular among some dog users. I
have good friends who are dog users, and most of the time I like their dogs. I
hope my honesty about dog use does not affect these relationships. Dog users
and dogs are welcome in my home, and I would not be destroyed by dog hair or
even an accident. It is a nuisance when there is only one dog at a time, but very
much worth accommodating if it substantially increases the independence of the
blind person in question. When there is poor discipline, and when the number of
dogs is multiplied, the nuisance becomes a substantial and definite negative.
This is the world we live in. The time has come to deal with the issue openly and
honestly.


[Photo #14 Ed Meskys and two other Federationists are pictured with their dogs during general
session.  All three dogs are asleep under the chairs.  Caption: Ed Meskys, left, with two other
Federationists at the 1988 NFB Convention.  Their dogs are obviously enjoying themselves.]

                      WHY I USE A GUIDE DOG
                          by Ed Meskys

     When I lost my sight completely and suddenly in 1971, my family was
supportive in the right way, assuming that the condition would not change my
life or work. They immediately learned about a residential rehab center and
arranged for me to attend and for me to get a guide dog immediately on
finishing. In the meantime I resumed teaching until the start of the next class at
the Carroll Center three months later.
     I had never had a dog as a pet and was not a dog lover, though I didn't
dislike them either. I went with the flow as my family made the arrangements. I
found that I liked working with a dog, and by the time you read this, I will be
training with my third dog. I worked my first dog for twelve years and my second
for ten. I waited a year to get a third so I would not have the quarantine hassles
at the World Science Fiction Convention in Glasgow in August.
     I had excellent training in cane technique and in orientation. I learned to
use sun, wind, sound shadows, other audible cues, sense of turn, facial vision,
building a mental map of the territory I was learning, etc. When I returned to
teaching at the start of the next semester, I was very glad I had the dog. The
campus was a converted farm, and the paths between buildings had potholes
every few feet. I could rarely get more than three strides before my cane tip
would get caught in a pothole and break my stride. Though that school is long
gone, and I rarely have that problem when using a cane today, I have still come
to prefer working with a dog.
     There are drawbacks. A dog involves expenses--food, vet, and other care.
Feeding, grooming, discipline exercises, play, etc., take at least an hour a day.
You have to take the dog outdoors for relief at least four times a day even if
there are two feet of snow on the ground or you have had freezing rain for an
hour and your driveway is a skating rink. No matter how frequently you groom
your dog, it will still shed, making you unwelcome in some friends' cars and
homes. You cannot hang up your dog next to the door when you are ill or on
vacation, and a cane will never have diarrhea on your living room rug. My wife
has to consider space for the dog when buying a new car, and when a friend
does give me a ride, the dog frequently takes the space another person would
have occupied. Finally, there is the emotional loss when the dog passes on. Still
I have found a dog guide rewarding enough to go for replacements when the
decision was totally my own.
     Neither dog had been trained to follow others, but it is something they
quickly learned in use. Thus in a crowded store, restaurant, or terminal I had no
trouble staying with family members, hostess, or airline person to the correct
luggage carousel.
     Of course I do not relegate authority to the dog when traveling, but must
remain fully aware of my surroundings and path. I am the navigator, and the dog
is the pilot, safely getting me around local obstacles on the way. In 1976 I was in
a hurry to catch a bus at the Port Authority Terminal in New York and wasn't
paying enough attention. As a result I fell down a flight of stairs at a subway
entrance when I thought I was about to cross Eighth Avenue. I attend many
conventions each year--NFB, science fiction, and Lions. When I want to leave a
crowded hospitality suite or meeting room, I can ask the dog to find the door
and can make my way out with little difficulty. At science fiction conventions I
usually have a table in the "huckster room," where I sell subscriptions to my
magazine. By the third time I go into the room the dog has learned where I am
going and takes me straight to my table, no matter which entrance door I use. I
enjoy the ease of movement on crowded sidewalks and subway passages in
large cities, which I frequently visit. I live on two acres of land in the country 300
feet from the nearest neighbor and three miles away from my village center, and
my village has a population of about two or three thousand.
     My wife feels more secure when I travel alone with a dog. She knows a
dog is not protective, but she still feels I am safer from others who might not
know that, especially when I am going back to my room on the subway at 2:00 a.
m.
     The dog is a tool to be used properly, and one must not let it get away
with improper behavior, or it will become useless. The dog is on display at all
times and represents ALL guide dogs to the public, so it must look well-
groomed and clean at all times. Your dog's misbehavior in public will make it
harder for the next dog user to gain acceptance or admission. Not only does my
dog help me travel rapidly and conveniently, but is also a warm, loving animal.
     There is one additional benefit of having a dog that is a help for a person
like me who lacks social confidence. People you encounter on a plane or in a
restaurant or on the street might be curious about you and want to strike up a
conversation, but they do not know how to approach you without being boorish.
They find asking about the dog a good hook to start a conversation, which I
appreciate very much. I know that this is an improper use of a dog as a social
crutch, but I still enjoy it.


                 ******************************
     If you or a friend would like to remember the National Federation of the
Blind in your will, you can do so by employing the following language:
     "I give, devise, and bequeath unto National Federation of the Blind, 1800
Johnson Street, Baltimore, Maryland 21230, a District of Columbia nonprofit
corporation, the sum of $_____ (or "_____ percent of my net estate" or "The
following stocks and bonds: _____") to be used for its worthy purposes on behalf
of blind persons."
                 ******************************

[Photo #15 Caption: At the 1987 Washington Seminar, Diane McGeorge walks
accompanied by her dog.]

                    ABOUT THE GUIDE DOG ISSUE
                        by Diane McGeorge

     When I learned that there were going to be a number of
articles printed in the Braille Monitor concerning guide dogs, I
thought I might as well put in my views on the subject, so here
they are.
     Most Monitor readers know that I am a long-time guide-dog
user, and so my thoughts are not just off-the-wall comments. I
first started using a guide dog for all the wrong reasons. I had
practically no training using a white cane. I had no confidence
in my skills, and I should not have had any because I had
practically no travel skills. I thought a dog would make me more
independent and more confident. I also thought that if I had a
dog, people would start conversations with me about the dog, and
then I wouldn't get some of the weird questions about my
blindness which I was tired of hearing and answering. All of
these reasons proved to be wrong, and it took me some time to
realize it. However, I love dogs. I always had a dog for a pet as
a child growing up. My parents had said to me whenever travel was
discussed, which wasn't very often, "You can get a seeing-eye dog
when you grow up and go to college." So, of course, I never
thought about anything else, and I had no role models who used
canes--so what did I know?
     So much for all of that. I continued to use a dog, and I
think have been a competent user. I quickly learned that to be
competent I had to take control of travel situations. My dog
couldn't do it. I had to make the right decisions in using a dog
in order for the dog to be an effective guide. I had received no
cane training during many years using guide dogs.
     Then I started seeing blind people at NFB Conventions using
white canes very well. They were traveling anywhere they wanted
to go and doing it well. I started wondering if I could do the
same thing. There were times I really didn't want to take my dog,
but I didn't think I could manage without one. And I really think
this is the determining factor in making a wise choice about what
technique you choose to use.
     In other words, I don't care what anybody uses to be
independent. I don't care what I use as long as I know I am
comfortable with the choice. I also want to feel competent in
using a cane or using a dog. As the director of a rehabilitation
training center, I have sometimes been told that I shouldn't use
a dog, that it sends the wrong message to a student. I think
that's nonsense. But I am jumping ahead of my own story of my
personal independent travel.
     In 1984, my dog Pony died very suddenly during the
Washington seminar. I had very minimal cane travel skills. I
decided then that this was the time to get some good training,
and I made the effort to do so. Mrs. Jernigan, then Mrs.
Anderson, worked with me intensely for about a week to ten days
at the National Center for the Blind. She is a wonderful cane
travel teacher. She is tough, and she took no excuses from me
about cold weather or anything else. I worked hard and have been
rewarded for her patience and hard work.
     I came back to Denver and used a white cane exclusively for
about the next year and a half. Then I decided I wanted to get a
new dog. Why? Did I feel a dog was better? Did I feel more
relaxed with a dog? Did I feel that I would let Mrs. Jernigan
down if I got a new dog? Did I feel I was a better dog user than
cane user? 
     I asked myself all of these questions and was honest with
myself in all of the answers. I discussed with Mrs. Jernigan the
fact that I was thinking of getting another dog. I told her I
felt very comfortable using the cane, which I did and still do. I
thanked her for giving me the choice she had given me, to use a
cane when I wanted to and to use a dog when I wanted to do that.
I had never had that freedom. And in my mind it is a true freedom
of choice. For me personally, I like using a dog for long walks.
Now that doesn't mean to say that cane users don't take long
walks. I don't want to be misunderstood. Some do. I didn't. I
love to walk for exercise, and having a guide dog and keeping
that dog in good training habits demands a lot of walking. It's
good for the dog, and it's good for me. The exercise is truly the
reason I got Dusty, my present dog, who is now retired.
     At least for me, there are advantages in using a cane, and I
have named the principal advantage in using a dog. Please
remember that I said "for me." That doesn't mean that this is
true for anyone else. I can name the disadvantages of using a
dog. I can name some of the disadvantages in using a cane.
     One of the disadvantages in using a cane is that a cane does
not come when you call it. You may laugh, but I have spent lots
of time looking for my cane because I was tired when I came home
and was careless about laying it down somewhere. I laugh about my
cane's not coming when I call it. Dogs require a great deal of
care, and there are places I just don't want to take a dog. Let
me give you a perfect example of why I think dogs are like
children.
     Ray and I have raised two sons and have helped raise our two
grandchildren. So I think we have some experience, and I also
think we have been good parents. There were places we chose not
to take our children, and that doesn't mean we didn't love them.
I feel the same way about guide dogs. Some of you may turn pale
at that comparison, but that's how I feel. 
     And now my examples. I attended a wedding reception when I
had Pony. He was a well-behaved dog, lying under my chair. I was
visiting with guests when suddenly a lady said, "Oh, how cute. I
set my eggnog on the floor under my chair, and your dog is
drinking it. He must like eggnog with brandy." That was not my
idea of cute. However, there was no way for me to know he was
drinking a cup of eggnog since he never moved except to stretch
out his neck to reach the ill-placed cup. It must have smelled
good to him. Now I had to worry about whether or not the alcohol
would hurt him. Would he be sick from the rich eggnog? That was
not a good place for a dog to be. Yet, at that time I did not
have the freedom of choice to leave him at home. 
     I think there are also places you don't want to take your
small children. For example, taking a young child into a shop
that exhibits a great deal of beautifully colored glass objects
is not my idea of fun in shopping. But that doesn't mean I don't
love children, my own and others. 
     And so what does all of this mean? I tell my students always
to be honest with themselves. We do not teach them to use guide
dogs. We're not a dog training site. Do I care if they go off and
get dogs? Why should I? I'm not living their lives. I'm very
happy the Colorado Center gives students good cane travel skills
so that they can make a wise choice. I also tell them that I
think it is wise to use a cane for a time before deciding about a
dog. I discuss with all the students my experiences of getting a
dog for the wrong reasons, and I'm glad they don't have to do
that. However, I certainly do not tell them that they should use
a cane or a dog. That is an individual choice. As I have already
said I feel very fortunate that I can happily use either or both.
For many years this was not the case. 
     I do not choose to take my dogs to conventions. I think that
I have enough things to do without adding the responsibility of
taking care of my dog--and dogs do require a lot of care. I think
National Conventions are terribly difficult for dogs to handle.
They are asked to work well in the most unusual circumstances
imaginable. I feel sorry for the dogs in crowded elevators. How
would you feel if all those canes were coming toward you, and
then you were squashed in an elevator about 25 inches off the
floor? Now that's not to say that some people don't do very well
using their dogs. I'm only saying what I think about my dog, and
I think it is terribly unfair to submit my dog to those
circumstances. I did it for years because I didn't think I could
do well using a cane. Now I know differently. And I love that
freedom of cane travel in many circumstances.
     Using a cane, a dog, or a sighted guide is an individual
decision. I have used (and will probably continue to use) all
three, depending on the circumstances. The most important thing
is that we respect each other's choices.
     Well, those are my thoughts for whatever they may be worth.
The key to successful travel is to be in control of your travel
regardless of the circumstances. Feeling competent and confident
is important to me. So as I say to my students, always be honest
with yourself about why you are making the choice you make. You
don't have to tell anyone else, but learn to be honest with
yourself. 


[Photo #16 Caption: Eugenia Firth and her dog Bianca]

                      DOG GUIDE AGREEMENT?
                        by Eugenia Firth

     When I got my first dog from the Seeing Eye in 1969, I was
newly graduated from high school. I had made the decision to get
a dog several years before I actually went for training. At the
time I did go, my decision was not based on mobility
considerations. I simply wanted one of those dogs.
     However, as time has shown, it turned out to be one of the
best decisions that I have ever made before or since. Now that I
have been working dogs for twenty-six years, I can see that my
personality would not be conducive to full-time cane use. Since
many readers of this publication do not possess the personal
experience or background to understand this statement, let me
explain dog-guide use as it truly exists.
     Seldom is the choice to use either a cane or a dog an equal
choice for an individual. Few people I have known over the years
are equally skilled in both. Of course, a few are. However, the
decision of most people in this matter is of a highly personal
nature, and certain factors tend to push one toward using either
a cane or a dog. Although one's personality is not the only
factor, it is probably the biggest.
     Some people believe that a dog-guide user gives the dogs
every left and right command. Many people view the dog as a furry
cane that obeys commands without question. In practice, a dog-
guide team that functions this way never achieves the advantages
a blind person can gain from working with a dog. If you allow
your dog to show you things or places that you have wanted in the
past, in many cases you can avoid asking for directions in a
strange environment. For example, if you consistently have your
dog show you to a chair in a waiting room, most dogs will learn
to do this for you. Some dogs can become so good at showing you
things that it's almost like having a sighted guide. Let me
illustrate.
     My second dog, Gert, became incredibly good at remembering
previous locations. She could reverse any route. When I first
went to the University of Texas at Austin, I needed to register
for classes immediately upon arrival. Gert and I had been
together for six years, so she was an experienced dog. I had no
idea where registration was taking place, but I got directions,
and we proceeded to get our business done. I am terrible at
remembering detailed directions, and by the time we finished I
had no idea where the dormitory was located in relation to the
registration room. Because I had encouraged Gert to develop her
abilities, I knew that all I had to do was to start her in the
right direction and say nothing. By this time, we had worked out
a system. If I gave her the"Forward" command and said nothing
except "Forward" at curbs, she took me back to our previous
location. However, if I wanted to go somewhere else, I gave her
"Left" and "Right" commands to get there. If we passed something
familiar along the way, she would indicate it to me so that I
could decide whether I wished to go there or not.
     As living beings, dogs are like people. They vary in their
abilities although there are standards which every dog guide
should meet. Not all dogs are capable of learning to perform to
the degree Gert did. But I feel that, if I can encourage my dogs
to learn as much as possible, I will benefit more in the long
run. My current dog, Bianca, does not have Gert's confidence.
However, she is very good at showing me things. I doubt if she
would have reversed our route back to the dormitory the first
time the way Gert did. If we were put in that same situation
again, I would then have to take responsibility either to ask for
directions again or do my best to remember the way back. When I
go to conventions, Bianca may not remember something the first
time she is shown. Once she is asked the second time to go back
to a particular location, she remembers it. This ability is very
handy for finding meeting rooms, restaurants, etc.
     At this point, I wish to clarify something in case I have
given the wrong impression. People using dog guides are not
limited to routes. Reversing routes, however, is valuable as a
friend of mine and I discovered in Detroit last year. Her dog,
Jesse, who is now about to retire, remembered the way back to our
room, even though we (the human beings) hadn't the foggiest clue
how to get there from where we were. Those of you who were in
Detroit can appreciate this dog's ability when I tell you that we
had been shown a very roundabout way to get to a restaurant. The
person showing us didn't know exactly where it was either. She
did not stay to eat with us, so we knew we were on our own coming
back. Knowing Jesse's abilities, we put him in the lead. His
mistress then told him to "Find the elevator." I cannot begin to
tell you the twists and turns we made to get there, but we made
it without having to ask or without having to falter around.
     My Bianca, although she knows "Find the elevator," has so
far not demonstrated that she can locate it from as far away as
Jesse did. However, we have developed our own methods. I do not
want to leave anyone with the impression that all you have to do
is hang on to your harness, and your dog magically takes you
where you want to go. However, it's not as simplistic a process
as having your dog obey your lefts, rights, and forwards without
any input either. Jesse became as good as he is for two reasons.
His mistress taught him beyond his original training to the best
of his ability, and he had the natural ability to learn as much
as he did. However, if she had not been capable of teaching him,
he would have been extremely good anyway. By making this
statement, I would like to shoot down another misconception. Cane
users and sighted people tend to think either one of two ways
about dog-guide travel. They either think that only incompetent
and lazy travelers should have dogs, or they think only the
topnotch cane users should get dogs. Neither of these statements
is true.
     Mobility is like any other skill in this world. Some people
learn it to the highest degree whether using dog or cane. Others,
despite their best efforts, need extra assistance, whether they
use a cane or not. A very competent cane traveler may not
necessarily make a very competent dog-guide traveler. If you are
a person who must always have complete control without
reassigning anything to another living being, then you are
unlikely to benefit from working with a dog guide.
     Now let's talk about the person who, despite tons of
training and lots of work, has not been successful with the cane.
It is possible, if that person chooses a dog-guide school with a
good follow-up program, for them to become a successful dog-guide
user. If this statement describes you, you may not become a world
traveler, but it is possible for dogs to receive additional
training which would enable them to improve your lifestyle. This
improvement, however, will only happen if you recognize your need
for additional assistance and if the dog-guide school is willing
to help.
     There are other personality factors to consider when making
a choice. If you are a person who has a great deal of difficulty
concentrating on exactly where you are at all times, then perhaps
dog-guide use is for you. If your dog-guide school is careful to
match you with a dog that tends to remind you of things rather
than getting into trouble when your attention momentarily
wanders, then your dog-guide use will be enhanced.
     If you are a person who has, despite your best efforts,
consistent veering problems on street crossings, you may also
benefit from using a dog. This is a problem that I have. Every
one of my dogs has had to learn not to allow me to push or pull
her in the wrong direction. This problem is sometimes one which
requires a great deal of work when coming home with a new dog,
but it's worth it in the end.
     A dog-guide user must also be able to discipline or praise
his or her dog. Children and dogs have several things in common,
and one of them is their need for discipline and praise. Some
people have a great deal of difficulty learning consistently
either to praise or discipline their dog according to the
circumstances. The owner must learn the proper amount of both
praise and correction to give, and this depends a great deal on
your dog's personality and temperament. Some dogs need very
little discipline and thrive a great deal on praise. Other dogs
need more stern discipline. My Bianca is one which thrives on
praise and requires very little discipline. Many times a voice
correction is enough for her. When I returned to Seeing Eye to
get her, I needed a dog like that because I have some arthritis
in both my wrists.
     I was never a full-time cane user anyway, but now using a
cane constantly would not be comfortable for me. My current dog,
in addition to requiring very little discipline, is also a very
light puller. It took me some adjustment to get used to it, but I
really need a light puller now because of my hands.
     I believe that many times blind people make a mobility
choice which is not always based on sound knowledge of both
primary methods. I know I did. I got lucky. Getting a dog turned
out to be the right decision for me. In many cases, you cannot
know until you actually experience it yourself whether or not a
dog is for you. In some cases, finding out a great deal of
information from those who have used dogs successfully will help
you avoid the heartache and frustration involved in sending a dog
back. Remember that it's not just you, but also your family, the
dog, and the school that will experience the unhappiness of a
mismatched situation.
     You cannot completely avoid the risk of a mismatch because
that possibility always exists, especially when going for your
first dog. Most of the time, proper matchings of the correct dog
to the person are done, but human errors can cause mismatching.
You can minimize this emotionally harrowing experience by making
sure that your chosen dog-guide school knows as much about you,
your family living situation, your work situation, and your
travel needs as possible. For example, if you are single with no
children, have an active social life, and work in an office, your
dog will need to have a very flexible personality and be ready
for anything at all times. If you are married, have five
children, and do a few errands, but mostly go to and from work,
your dog may need to be able to tolerate a lot of repetition
without becoming bored. Most people do not understand these
factors when going for their first dog, and sometimes this
creates a situation where poor performance can increase.
Therefore, if you decide a dog guide is for you, pick your school
carefully by talking to others that have been there if possible.
Then be sure to write the application information carefully so
that your school has the vital information about you.
     I would like to say one last thing. No one method of
mobility is in and of itself better than the other. We as
Federationists are always trying to help each other to improve
the quality of our lives. All of us should be careful about
judging the mobility performance of our fellow blind until we
know all the facts. Since we are all individuals and since
mobility is a highly individualized skill, let's all allow each
other to make our own choices in peace.


[Photo #17 Caption: Bill Reif and his dog Yaz]

                   PERSPECTIVES ON DOG GUIDES
                          by Bill Reif

     It is difficult to compare the relative merits of using a
dog guide versus using a cane. I know many competent travelers
that use either technique; and many people, including me, have
effectively used both. Since the average working life span of a
dog guide is approximately eight years, a decision for or against
using a dog guide is not a life-long choice. Below are some of
the reasons I have chosen as I have, and some observations you
may find helpful in considering the matter.
     The question "Will you use a dog or a cane when you grow
up?" was asked of me early and often, mostly by people having no
understanding of blindness or the alternative techniques we use.
I was "mainstreamed" in a suburban Chicago school system and so
had little contact with other blind people or with those with
experience in teaching the blind. I suppose the reason people so
persistently asked me whether I intended to use a cane or a dog
when I grew up related either to their curiosity about blindness
or their love of dogs generally. I recall an Industrial Arts
teacher in eighth grade who, upon my replying that I planned to
use a cane when it became time to learn an alternative technique,
quipped that I'd be cheating myself out of a lot of companionship
unless they developed a "face-licking cane." That was almost
twenty-five years ago, in a time when mainstreamed blind children
were not taught any alternative travel techniques until high
school.
     In my senior year, I was exposed for the first time to the
"long" white cane by an itinerant mobility instructor, who worked
with me one (and sometimes two) days a week. This happened first
at my high school, and later in my neighborhood during the early
summer. At that time, "long" meant a length of about forty-eight
inches, which came up to somewhere below my breastbone. This
state-issue cane was heavy and had a large crook at the top
similar to that which would be useful on a support cane. It had a
spiraled rubber-strip grip, white tape which continued to within
eight inches of the bottom, and allegedly mandatory red tape to
the tip, which had to be replaced as it wore off on curb or step
edges. Otherwise, as I was told, the cane would not be "legal."
My sighted instructor assured me that as long as I kept my arm
fully extended and my hand centered in front of me a few inches
below belt level and made sure my cane tapped each side of an
appropriately-spaced arc at the exact instant the foot on the
opposite side of the arc hit the ground, nothing bad would happen
to me because my canetip would land exactly where my next
footstep would land. If that sounds easy to you, you are either a
sighted mobility instructor who doesn't use a cane, or you are a
person who has learned to walk slowly enough that you have time
to take meaningful evasive action when your canetip touches that
object or hole toward which a person walking at normal speed
would already be in the process of stepping. I will gladly admit
that this was not easy for me, that traveling independently and
relatively quickly was important enough for me to persevere,
shortening my reaction time and developing my ability to
interrupt a step in progress. Things got easier for me when I
left home for law school, got rid of my state-issue cane, and
bought a folding cane at least six inches longer. Yet, I believe
my attitude toward the use of the cane and my confidence in
traveling independently had been shaped by that early experience.
     After losing a job that I held briefly in Springfield,
Illinois, I reconsidered the question of whether a dog or a cane
was best. I believed a dog guide would be helpful in my travels
through unfamiliar cities in search of employment and would be a
great help in locating doors, subway stairs, or other items not
included in my limited mobility instruction. I imagined that a
long brisk walk with a dog guide could be relaxing, not requiring
me to attend to the details of what might happen at every step. I
thought this period between jobs would be a good opportunity to
train with a dog guide without having to schedule time off.
Finally, I had always liked dogs, and I thought the companionship
would be nice, though I recognized that the dog's primary purpose
would be to serve as a mobility aid and that such a relationship
would demand treatment different from that given to a pet.
     I attended Guiding Eyes for the Blind, where I received a
yellow Labrador named Yaz, after Carl Yastremsky of the Boston
Red Sox. My greatest apprehension in switching from a cane to a
dog guide was to drop the concentration I had developed, and to
trust that the dog would not walk me into a sign or other object
that I had no independent way of detecting. I discovered that
using a dog guide does cut you off from tactile cues,
particularly those that would be adjacent to the sidewalk
intersections. Although one learns to trust the dog to stop for
curbs or low objects, walking with a dog guide is by no means
like walking with a sighted guide, who knows your destination and
has planned the route for you. (I suppose an exception might be
when one really has no idea what direction that might be.) The
fact that I had already had independent travel experience made it
possible for me effectively to use a dog guide, and to be
immediately aware when the dog wants to make decisions for you
(eg., when returning home, Yaz sometimes would try to avoid
crossing two streets by attempting to veer across the
intersection during the first crossing).
     I traveled extensively with Yaz during the over twelve years
I worked with him; and I discovered that my confidence in
traveling independently increased considerably during this time.
I found walking to be much more relaxing with Yaz than it had
been with a cane; and I traveled in areas and situations I
wouldn't have attempted alone without him. Perhaps my biggest
surprise in using a guide dog was the degree to which I could use
non-tactile cues in recognizing areas, evaluating the angle at
which streets intersect, locating a likely building entrance,
etc. These were not things taught by the mobility professionals.
I learned them through my growing association with Federationists
and other blind people, and through the increased travel
experience I was getting with Yaz.
     My travel experiences have helped me considerably in the now
three years since I have retired Yaz; and I believe I am a much
better cane traveler now than I was when I got him. I think using
a sixty-one-inch cane has made travel a lot easier too.
     Three years after I've quit using Yaz, people who remember
me with a dog continue to ask me when or whether I will get
another. I've even had strangers attempt to make conversation by
saying: "I can see where, for a blind person, losing your dog
would be so traumatic you probably would never want to go through
that again." While anyone, blind or sighted, hates losing an
animal to which he/she has developed an attachment, such things
are no more traumatic for the blind than for the sighted dog-
lover. I recently heard a girl remark that she "used to have a
crush on me when I had that neat-looking dog." I have also had
people comment, upon observing me using a cane, that "That dog
did such a good job of taking you around I expected you'd be lost
without him; but you seem to get where you're going just as if
you're still using him."
     While I miss some aspects of working with a dog, I am happy
with my present situation. My circumstances are quite different
now from what they were when I made the decision to use a dog
guide. I now work full-time in an office that demands almost no
travel, have married, and have a seven-year-old boy to whom I
give much of my non-work time. Though I walk or go by bus to and
from work or other places to which I take Bruce, my son, my
situation is such that a dog guide would not get the attention or
exercise I was able to give to Yaz. This is not to say that a
person in my situation shouldn't have a dog or can't give the
right amount of attention. I am confident in both methods of
travel, and so have the option of choosing not to have a dog . .
. well, maybe a pet would be nice.
     I believe that the decision whether to use a dog or cane
depends less on the relative merits of each technique than on a
person's love of dogs, their strengths, weaknesses, and
confidence as a traveler, the environment (urban, suburban, or
rural) in which he/she will normally be traveling, the way in
which a dog guide will affect other family members or pets, and
whatever considerations may be important to you. Feel free to
consider all these factors, knowing that either choice, given a
manageable degree of ongoing dedication and use, will provide you
the option of traveling independently with confidence.


[Photo #18 Caption: Steve Benson welcomes delegates to the 1995 NFB Convention
in Chicago.]

                       WHERE IS THE MAGIC?
                         by Steve Benson

     Jenny is six and a half years old. Sometimes her behavior
falls short of perfect. Then she, and occasionally the rest of
the household, must endure the consequences, especially when she
ingests things she shouldn't.
     Jenny is a ninety-pound German shepherd. She serves
faithfully and well as a watch dog; companion; and catcher of
sticks, tennis balls and rubber dog toys. She is a genuine
presence, a bona fide member of our family. She is first and
foremost a dog, and no matter what or how much training she may
receive, she will never be anything other than a dog. 
     Jenny is not the first dog to have received my attention,
affection, and treasure. Tippy, a black lab, shared my bedroom
when I was about nine years old. Bridy, a terrior mix, and Sarah,
another shepherd, shared our house, and shared the essence of
dog.
     Each of our dogs required training, discipline, affection,
and maintenance. They were praised when it was appropriate and
scolded when that was appropriate. Spring and fall shedding
necessitated extra cleaning, as did summer and winter shedding.
Whenever Jenny is transported by car, she leaves tell-tale
evidence of her presence--hair, paw marks, nose prints on the
windows, and sometimes odor--All of which require extra cleaning.
     Visits to the vet are standard for bathing, nail clipping,
teeth cleaning, and routine compulsory shots--not to mention
diagnosis and treatment of any number of things. 
     We built a relief area of timbers and filled it with river
rocks. Frequent grooming and long walks help keep Jenny healthy.
If, while on those walks, she should relieve herself on someone
else's property, it is essential that we clean it up. On top of
all that, conventions and vacations mean finding a dog sitter
because, unfortunately, Jenny does not board well.
     These are responsibilities my family and I take willingly
and seriously. Owning a dog (whether a show dog, a hunter, a pet,
or a guide dog) requires the readiness and commitment to assume
at least the aforementioned responsibilities. In many ways,
having a pet is very much like having a child. One of the major
differences is, of course, that children's behavior changes as
they mature. They assume increasing responsibility for their own
actions. Dogs are just dogs, and cannot be anything more. 
     My first interaction with guide dogs occurred in my freshman
year at college. My peers and I were exposed to two very
different shepherds. Our reactions are interesting to reflect
upon.
     Dina was young and full of puppy playfulness. When greeted
by name she would stand on her hind legs, no matter where she
was. She was cute, so people talked to her, although not always
her master. If she stood up and shook in class, some--thankfully
not all--professors would respond something like, "Well, Dina is
up, so it must be time to go," even though there might be as much
as fifteen minutes left in the hour. Occasionally Dina's master
encouraged her to stand up and shake to precipitate early
dismissal. At that time I regarded some of her behavior as
amusing. Clearly it wasn't and did dog users and all blind people
harm.
     Jack, weighing probably 130 pounds, was one of the biggest
shepherds I have ever seen. He was also one of the best behaved
dogs I have ever met. Mostly you didn't know he was around. His
master, Fred, kept him under control without making a big fuss
about it.
     People greeted Jack, but seldom greeted his master. Fred
responded with, "Hello" or "How are you?" or "Have a nice day." I
thought it pretty peculiar, but Fred and some of his classmates
thought it funny.
     They ran Jack for class officer. Campaign posters were
designed and distributed on campus. The posters read, "Vote for
Jack Shepherd," or "Jack Shepherd, good leader!" The dog finished
third or fourth in the balloting. 
     It would be easy to chalk this incident up as a silly
college prank, but considering the attitudes about blindness
then, and now, I find this anecdote as disturbing today as I did
almost thirty-five years ago. 
     My walks with Jenny are instructive. I am amazed by the
number of people who think Jenny is a guide dog despite the fact
that I use a long cane and have the dog on leash and at heal, and
that she does not wear a harness. All of that serves as a
reminder as why I find the previous anecdotes so disturbing after
so long a time. People think Jenny is a guide dog because she is
a German shepherd. Come to think of it, when I walked the terrier
mix ten years ago, there were those who asked whether she was a
guide dog. It is clear to me that there are plenty of people in
today's society who seem to think that a blind person can't make
it in the world without a dog.
     The Federation is in the business of changing attitudes
about blindness and blind people, and of course that includes
blind people who own and use guide dogs. Changing attitudes, it
seems to me, is made more complex when the public believes that
guide dogs can read street signs and addresses, or that a guide
dog can take a blind person to any given address on command. Dogs
cannot think in the way we do, interpret sophisticated symbols,
or make decisions for us any more than a tiny child can, but
there are still people in this country who think that this is the
case--all of which brings me to the planning for the 1995
National Convention.
     Of all the convention-related issues I managed, none
commanded more time and effort in discussion and preparation than
guide-dog accommodations. Early on, we arranged for a crew to
clean up in a large grassy section of Grant Park, across Michigan
Avenue from the Hilton and Towers. I thought that would be more
than adequate, considering the size of the park area and the
number of dogs anticipated. But, I was told, Michigan Avenue is
too wide, too busy, and the pedestrian lights too short to permit
safe crossing by guide-dog users.
     I must confess I was more than a little puzzled by these
assertions since I had long been led to believe that use of guide
dogs allowed the user to cross a street straighter and more
quickly than the use of a cane. Be that as it may, I consulted a
City engineer to determine whether the pedestrian light could be
lengthened. I was told that the City would be very reluctant to
make any adjustments since they would adversely affect traffic
flow in the entire downtown area. I consulted with the Chicago
Police Department about getting additional coverage at Michigan
Avenue and Balbo Drive. They agreed to provide extra coverage
during hours when it seemed most likely that guide-dog users
would need to get to Grant Park.
     Then people began to insist that we provide an auxiliary
relief area on the hotel side of Michigan Avenue. There was no
suitable place outside the hotel. Finally arrangements were made
with the hotel to construct a sand box in the executive parking
space and fill it with six or seven cubic yards of sand. 
     On the surface this would seem to be a simple,
straightforward task. Appearances can be deceiving. Because the
Hilton is a union shop, it was necessary to hunt for a lawn
service that would not only deliver the sand, but spread it--and,
after the Convention, pick it up, haul it away, and dispose of
it. When I finally identified a lawn service that would do these
things, I also explored the prospects of having them pick up and
replace the sand mid-week if that was necessary. They could not
do it. And besides, it was assumed that the amount of sand would
be sufficient, since it was an auxiliary site and since we had
people to maintain the area and turn the sand over. That was
wishful thinking.
     By Tuesday, July 4, it was very clear that we would have to
replace the sand. We found another source for sand, but they
would not remove the used material, and they could not deliver
until Thursday, July 6. After more searching by more people, we
found someone to remove the dirty sand. It was necessary to scoop
it with a Bobcat tractor and load it onto a dump truck for
removal. In the process, the sand box was destroyed and the hotel
had to replace it. 
     There are more details regarding the difficulty and
inconvenience and the coordinating several organizations upon
short notice, but suffice it to say that several Illinoisans had
to do more than a little scurrying around to get the task
completed. The total cost to our affiliate was in the
neighborhood of $3,000.00.
     On more than one occasion, prior to and during Convention, I
wondered why people bring guide dogs to convention. Three
thousand people in a concentrated place must be pretty stressful
to the dogs who are inevitably being stepped on and being touched
by canes. The water is different; the food may be different; and
the lifestyle is probably quite different from what most dogs
routinely experience. But of course the answer is that the dog is
the principal means of independent travel for many people and
that they certainly are entitled to take the dog wherever they
go. We have fought for the right of blind people to use dogs, but
I should note that I know a number of people who did not bring
their dogs because of the stresses imposed by Convention. I also
know of some people who did not bring their dogs because they
believe that the Federation is anti-dog. This is not the case.
But a number of very serious questions about guide dogs must be
raised and examined honestly, thoroughly, and unemotionally. I
realize that for some this latter is difficult because the dog
takes on identity that goes beyond the animal's nature and
function.
     I am biased. I do not use a guide dog, and at this point in
my life, I consider the prospect of becoming a guide-dog user
extremely unlikely. As a matter of fact, my wife and I have given
serious consideration as to whether or not we will replace Jenny
when she, inevitably, passes away. As long as I am able to voice
any position regarding the independence of blind people, I will
defend the right of owning and using a guide dog. That having
been said, I must also say several other things. Guide-dog users
do not have the right to allow their dogs to relieve themselves
anywhere and then walk away leaving the mess behind. I don't have
that right as the owner of a pet. Cleaning up after a dog is not
the most pleasant thing in the world, but it must be done. If the
dog-guide schools don't teach people to pick up after their dogs,
then they are doing as grave a disservice to all blind people as
those who shirk that responsibility. 
     At this year's National Convention, I am aware of only six
accidents. But I can tell you that all of the Illinois Affiliate
who participated in marshalling or in any other function of the
Convention, were acutely aware of the prospect that we would have
to stand over or place a chair over a dog deposit. But I pointed
out to the Illinois delegation that if a child became ill, we
would be sensitive to that and that we should be equally
sensitive to a dog that became ill. We did everything within our
power to avoid the problems we encountered in 1988. We knew that
if we could not control dog behavior, future convention planning
could be adversely affected.
     We regarded the Hilton as our home, and we felt justified in
being offended by those irresponsible dog users who did not
manage their time and who were not sensitive to the dogs'
expressions of their needs. I might add that I know guide-dog
users who have expressed to me that irresponsible dog users
offend them as well. Guide-dog users who believe that they have
the right to do whatever they wish with regard to their dogs are
as harmful to all of us as cane users who behave with equal
irresponsibility. 
     I have travelled in thirty-five states. I have probably met
fifteen thousand or more blind people. None of us, whether guide-
dog users or not, can use blindness as an excuse for not meeting
our responsibilities as citizens of this country. All of us who
travel independently must do so only after making the commitment
that we will be responsible for ourselves, for our canes, and/or
for our dogs.
     I fear that many guide-dog users receive training in the use
of a guide dog because they believe that they cannot travel with
a cane or because good instruction in independent travel with a
white cane is either wretchedly poor or non-existent. There is no
magic in a cane. Independent travel with a cane requires
attention, sharp wit, patience, self-confidence, alertness, and
determination. Equally there is no magic in the use of a guide
dog. A dog cannot make an individual a good independent traveler.
The same skill and alertness must be possessed by a guide-dog
user as by a cane user. I recognize that some blind people,
because of hearing loss, balance problems, or other conditions,
may benefit immensely from proper use of a well-trained, well-
disciplined guide dog. But I cannot conceive of how a person can
expect to be an effective, independent traveler with a guide dog
if he or she is not first skilled in orientation and in the use
of a white cane.


[Photo #19 Caption: Paul Gabias]

                      DOGS TOURING BREWERY

                                        Kelowna, British Columbia
                                                  August 14, 1995

Dear Dr. Jernigan:

     Attached is a copy of a letter I sent to Geoffrey Courtney,
the attorney defending Franklin Johnson in his case against
Gambrinus Company/Spoetzl Brewery. The letter is self-
explanatory. A copy was sent to Mr. Maurer.
     I think that this letter can serve as a warning to those of
us who would undermine the value of the guide dog as a
respectable, useful and efficient visual aid for blind people. If
we are not strong in our defense of the right of blind people to
work with guide dogs in all establishments frequented by the
public, and all modes of transportation, there are plenty of
forces outside our movement impelled by ignorance which will be
put to work to destroy the respectability of the guide dog as a
useful and efficient visual aid for many blind people.
     Some have argued that the Federation has always defended the
right of blind people to use guide dogs. This is true. However,
sometimes I have heard mixed messages about the usefulness and
efficiency of the guide dog. A person who is an efficient cane
traveler should not be discouraged from obtaining a guide dog.
There is nothing wrong with wanting to supplement one's travel
skills through the use of canine vision. The Federation, as a
whole, ought to support the National Association of Guide Dog
Users in its mandate to inform people about the usefulness of
guide dogs. It would be best if this support were wholehearted. I
can understand reservations based on negative and obstructive
behaviors on the part of dogs and handlers which we sometimes
come across at conventions. I think these behaviors are largely
due to insufficient training of the handlers. However, in
principle, the concept of using canine vision as a supplementary
travel tool is sound and should be supported.
     I offer these comments and the attached letter for the
October Monitor.

                                                       Cordially,
                                               Paul Gabias, Ph.D.

                          NATIONAL ASSOCIATION OF GUIDE DOG USERS
                                               Paul Gabias, Ph.D.
                                                        President
                                                    July 27, 1995

Mr. Geoffrey N. Courtney
ADA National Backup Center
Austin, Texas

Dear Mr. Courtney:

     This is a letter in support of Franklin Johnson, the
Plaintiff, in the action against Gambrinus Company/Spoetzl
Brewery. I am the President of the National Association of Guide
Dog Users. The National Association of Guide Dog Users is the
dominant organization of people who use guide dogs in the United
States. It is a Division of the National Federation of the Blind,
the most influential movement of organized blind people in the
United States. The National Federation of the Blind has a
membership of 50,000. The membership is primarily composed of
blind people along with sighted friends who support the work of
the Federation.
     According to the constitution of the National Association of
Guide Dog Users, the purpose of the association is: To promote
understanding through education of the general public; to
establish and maintain a forum through which discussion about
guide dogs, their training--their care--their behavior--may be
shared among guide-dog users; to work cooperatively with and
provide consultation to guide-dog schools; and to work
constructively within the framework of the National Federation of
the Blind to strengthen equality, opportunity and security for
all blind persons.
     Because one of our mandates is to strengthen security,
equality and opportunity for all blind persons, I feel
particularly compelled to offer support to Mr. Johnson in his
action against Gambrinus Company/Spoetzl Brewery.
     I understand that the brewery wishes to deny Mr. Johnson
access to tours of its premises, which are otherwise open to the
public. The reason the brewery wishes to deny Mr. Johnson access
to its facilities is because Mr. Johnson uses a guide dog. The
brewery claims that it would be happy to welcome Mr. Johnson on
its tours without the guide dog. Of course, Mr. Johnson uses a
guide dog as a visual aid for purposes of safe and efficient
mobility. Asking him to take the tour without a dog is tantamount
to asking a sighted person who requires corrective eyeware to
take the tour without glasses or contact lenses.
     Of course, the brewery's refusal to accommodate Mr. Johnson
with his guide dog is discriminatory under provisions specified
by the ADA, the Texas Human Resources Code, and the FDA.
Regulations under the FDA do not supersede provisions of the ADA
and the Texas Human Resources Code. The FDA regulations support
provisions of non-discrimination contained in the ADA and the
Texas Human Resources Code. The FDA regulations state that "Guard
or guide dogs may be allowed in some areas of a plant if the
presence of the dogs is unlikely to result in contamination of
food, food-contact surfaces, or food-packaging materials."
Obviously, the Gambrinus Company/Spoetzl Brewery believes that
the presence of guise dogs in its plant is likely to result in
the contamination of food, food-contact surfaces or food-
packaging materials! Otherwise, the company would not be invoking
provisions under the FDA to defend its discriminatory practices.
     Of course, this kind of defense is absurd. What makes this
plant any different from the thousands of restaurants, grocery
stores, self-service bulk food stores, butcher shops, bakeries,
confectionery shops where candy is made on the premises, farmers'
markets, fish markets, sidewalk stands, fruit stores and fruit
stands, cafeterias and buffets which are visited every day by the
public? In these types of establishments, where food is prepared
and served, blind people with their guide dogs can be found
either as customers or service providers. There are ample daily
precedents to suggest that guide dogs do not pose any greater
health hazard than humans.
     Because humans are social creatures, there is always some
risk of communicable disease related to human interactions. For
example, people freely transmit flu viruses to one another.
Children transmit measles, chicken pox, and mumps to one another.
Yet, because we live in a social world, we do not exclude adults
and children from frequenting and working in establishments where
food is served. Young children are known to be particularly at
risk for picking up and transmitting head lice. Do we bar
children from restaurants because a small percentage of them
might be carrying head lice? No, we take the small risk of being
exposed to head lice because we do not wish to exclude our
children from social interactions. Young children are not always
models of etiquette when eating in restaurants. By the time they
are finished, food is often smeared all over the highchair, the
table, and the floor. A couple of weeks ago, my two-year-old son
threw up all over me and the restaurant booth. Do we exclude
children from restaurants because of these occasional
misadventures? No, we certainly do not because we are not willing
to endure the price of excluding our children. As a society, we
are more than willing to deal with the occasional inconveniences
posed by our children.
     But children are not always the only ones to get sick in
public. One can imagine an adult getting sick on a tour of the
brewery. Is the Gambrinus Company/Spoetzl Brewery prepared to
exclude the public from its tours because somebody might get sick
and render the facility unsanitary? Its policy of opening its
tours to the public suggests otherwise.
     What the Gambrinus Company/Spoetzl Brewery must understand
is that federal and state legislation has been enacted to ensure
that guide dogs accompanied by their owners must be integrated
into the social fabric of society on a par with human beings. The
dogs, by dint of their training and grooming, do not pose any
greater health hazard than human beings. Guide dogs have achieved
this level of stature in our society because of the vital
functions they perform for their blind handlers. It is illegal to
discriminate against blind people because of their use of guide
dogs for safe and efficient mobility. I respectfully request that
the judge in this case apply the law of the land so that the
Gambrinus Company/Spoetzl Brewery be made to conform to the
social standards which are now customary in our society.

                                                       Cordially,
                                               Paul Gabias, Ph.D.


[Photo #20 Caption: Prince]

                      PRINCE, A DOG'S TALE
                        by Bill J. Isaacs

     Hello, my name is Prince. I am a white Standard Poodle. I
was born on January 16, 1994, at Darlington, Wisconsin. My
original mistress, a vet, Mary Skog, donated me to Leader Dog
last December to be trained as a guide dog. She had heard through
the Poodle grapevine that Bill Isaacs, a local blind gentleman,
wanted to have a dog trained for him as his guide that would
reduce allergy problems that come from having dogs around.
Poodles, you know, have hair and not fur. We do not have dandruff
or shed hair if we are kept groomed regularly.
     I am a Leader dog, even though most people refer to me as a
Seeing Eye dog. Seeing Eye dogs are trained at Morristown, New
Jersey. I was trained at Rochester, Michigan. For your
information, each of the seventeen guide-dog training schools in
the United States have their own distinctive brand name for their
dogs. These guide-dog schools are very proud of their brand name,
and to call a Leader dog a Seeing Eye dog would be like calling a
Ford a Chevy. Perhaps the best generic term would be "dog guide."
     You know this job of guiding a blind person around at any
hour, both day and night, places a great responsibility upon me.
I was not sure if I was cut out to be a guide dog. As a guide dog
I have to stop for every set of steps, pause for curbs, find door
handles, and keep quiet in church and at restaurants. I have to
make sure there is enough room for two when walking down a
sidewalk. I have to watch for garbage cans, parked and moving
cars, and even overhead branches.
     You might say that it is pretty much a dog's life. Even
during the first month of my three-month training session, my
trainer, Greg, thought I would not make it. However, he decided
to work with me for another week or so. I at first showed so
little aptitude for the job that he nearly culled me out of the
program. In the meantime my love for him increased, and I knew
that I wanted very much to please him. You see, I do not make
friends right off the bat. I find it difficult to switch from one
master to another. When I give my allegiance to a master, I want
it to be forever.
     However, my life has not always been a bed of roses. When I
was a young pup, Mary Skog sold me to a groomer. When I became a
little ill, I was dumped back at her doorstep. Mary nursed me
back to health, and I was as good as new. Another family bought
me, and I was whisked off to New York City. For some unknown
reason, I was abandoned there. Maybe I was too noisy, or perhaps
I chewed up too many things. Maybe I did not have the proper
characteristics for a top show dog even though both my parents
were show dogs. Regardless of the reason, Mary heard of my
plight, and I was returned to Darlington, Wisconsin, a second
time. It was at this point that the wheels began to turn that led
me down the path toward becoming a guide dog.
     Being trained as a guide dog during a Michigan winter was
not exactly a bowl of cherries. Come rain, sleet, or snow (fair
or foul weather), this little house plant dog had to go with my
trainer for some new experience and to refresh my memory about
earlier feats. My future employment depended on my perfecting my
skills. Even before my daily training, my eyes were examined, and
my hips were x-rayed. Perfect sight and sound hips are a must for
all guide dogs. Once these preliminaries were out of the way, my
trainer took me around this block, down these stairs, up this
elevator, down these escalators, on this bus or train, through
the mall, through revolving doors, etc., etc. We repeated many of
these activities day after day and week after week. My trainer
was always adding new experiences for me to add to my repertoire
so that I might be prepared for any type of an experience that
any blind person might face.
     After awhile, you know I thought this occupation as a guide
dog might not be too bad after all, as long as I could continue
to work with Greg. I loved him, and he loved me. We were really
getting to understand each other. In fact, we were fast becoming
a working team. I also learned to work with other dogs who were
learning the same things I was. Greg belonged to a group of four
trainers, where he served as captain. They each trained eight to
ten dogs. We dogs had to learn to get along with each other.
After our trainers had polished our skills, they began to work
each other's dogs. I did not like this swapping around of
masters. I wanted to stick with the one I had learned to trust
and love. They told me it was for my own good, for it was certain
that an unknown master was in the making somewhere in the near
future. I did not care about the future; I was one unhappy dog.
Sometimes I refused to work for the other trainers. They became
concerned about my future. In fact, the head trainer told Bill
that it was only about a fifty/fifty chance that I would turn out
to be a successful guide dog.
     Suddenly Greg disappeared from the picture for two weeks.
About the time he returned from his Florida vacation, a class of
twenty-four blind persons came to Leader Dog's campus. I felt
very sad. I overheard the head trainer tell Bill that I was the
saddest looking dog that he had ever seen. I did not realize that
my feelings showed so much. Without Greg, my world seemed to be
collapsing again. And now I was about to be hitched up with
somebody I did not know. Greg and I had become pals. We
understood each other. Oh, why did this arrangement have to be
broken? I had become vulnerable by placing my complete loyalty
with Greg.
     About the time Greg returned from Florida, the new class of
blind students were in great anticipation as to what their new
guide dogs would be like. We guide dogs knew something was in the
air, but we knew not what. We were scrubbed, fluffed, and made to
look our very best. Then, one by one, we were marched into a dorm
room to meet our new masters or mistresses. After my clean-up
spree, I was carted off to a dorm room to meet my master-to-be. I
was quite nervous and anxious about the whole business. When Greg
left the room, I was alone with this blind stranger. I felt the
bottom falling out of my heart. Bill tried to cheer me up by
playing with me, but I gave him a cold shoulder. My eyes followed
Greg out of the room, and I was uncertain as to what was going to
happen to me. My stomach churned, and I lost my appetite. After a
couple of days, I at least discovered that Bill was not out to
harm me. Bill groomed me, cleaned out my eyes, fed me, took me
for little walks, and kept trying to play with me. I finally
decided that he must be a pretty good guy, so I touched his cheek
with my nose. My nose touch serves as my stamp of approval. I
think it is sissy stuff to gush over humans much. I have to live
up to my rank you know! Do you know what my new master did? He
treated me like a prince. He held my food in his hand each day to
encourage me to eat a little more. He even brought a tennis ball
along to see if I would play with it. A ball is a no-no in most
guide schools you know. I did so much like chasing it down and
would then jump smack in the middle of his bed, which was another
no-no. Because this pastime was about the only thing that would
make me happy enough to wag my tail, the director let us get away
with it. Some trainers think ball playing breaks down obedience
training, but it did not interfere with my obedience. That was
one thing I was good at.
     Little by little I began to find that Bill was not such a
bad fellow after all. I think maybe I was beginning to love him a
bit. But, then, I began to have anxieties when Greg was around.
Was I cheating him by showing too much attention to Bill? What
would he think of me? I needed a sedative because I felt so
"stressed out." Dogs, you know, instinctively select one person
or dog to head their pack. Greg always reminded me of the good
old days when we hiked all over the place so happily. It is very
hard for me to concentrate on anything else when I think about
him. Greg drove the bus, ate dinner at my master's table, and
walked with us around town, but was ignoring me more and more. I
wondered what was getting into him to treat me that way. Does he
not care for me any longer? I could not understand this. What had
become of our strong bond of friendship? Slowly it dawned upon me
that he was doing all of this for my benefit. He wanted me to
find it easier to shift my loyalty to Bill without feeling guilty
about it. I suspect that it hurt Greg down inside about as much
as it did me when he began to act the way he did. Sure enough, I
soon found myself even growling occasionally when I thought
anybody was trespassing too closely on the territory I thought
belonged to my new master. Even so, I could not quite give up
trying to win back the old relationship with my former trainer.
     Four weeks after Bill and I came to Bourbonnais, Illinois,
Greg came to check up on us. The old bond between us caused me to
shower him with my affection. About this time, however, I began
to love Bill more and not just tolerate him. My longing for Greg
has begun to fade out now. Bill and I are beginning to read each
other's body language in ways that make life more meaningful to
each of us. I believe that we are really becoming a viable team
that will only grow stronger with the months and years ahead.
     While still in training with Bill at Leader Dog, Bill took
care of all my basic needs. That still did not take away that
longing in my heart for Greg. I tried to lead Bill down the
sidewalk, but my heart was not in it. If Greg were riding around
on a bike, driving a van, or just out of sight, I refused to
work. I would sit down and have to be dragged to get me moving. I
would not find the curbs, nor would I lead Bill across the
street. I just wanted to get Greg's attention, and hopefully Bill
would just give me back to him. On one occasion when Bill was so
disappointed with me, I heard him say that if I were not a
Poodle, he would have swapped me for another Lab. I think now
that it was lucky for me that there were no more Poodles
available. Bill was a persistent fellow, I must admit. He would
try to coax me into guiding. When that did not work (and it
usually did not), he would just take out his telescopic cane and
start leading or dragging me around. After two weeks of this torn
allegiance between two masters, the school decided that Bill
should take me home with him and see what he could do with me
away from Greg, the school, and all the other dogs. It was hoped
that distance would allow me to become fonder of Bill. I was a
stubborn cuss, however. For three and a half weeks or so I
behaved the same way in Bourbonnais as I did at Rochester. It was
thought that if Bill could win my complete allegiance, maybe I
would work for him as well as I did for Greg.
     Bill and I flew from Detroit to Chicago on April 30, 1995 to
start our new life away from familiar surroundings. I love to
ride! I will ride in anything, whether it be an auto, bus, van,
airplane, or train. They all make me sleepy, but it is nice
anyway. I knew that Bill thought I would really get with it when
we got to Bourbonnais. Greg was still in my mind, and I was as
slow as a turtle in changing my disposition about matters. Bill
still had to drag me out of the house. I wouldn't even consider
any guiding work. I did not think he was my boss. I would walk in
the middle of the street if I wanted. I refused to take him
across streets, so he had to lead or drag me. After nearly two
and a half weeks of this tomfoolery, my master began to use his
telescopic cane again and forced me to follow behind him. After a
few days of this, I thought it would appear ridiculous for
everybody seeing a blind man guiding his guide dog. I decided
that that was not very apropos, so I began to straighten up and
do my job as I was taught. I wanted Bill and Greg both to be
proud of me. I began to walk along the curb and take my chances
in crossing the street with a person who depended upon me with
his life. Little by little our teamship began to click, and you
might find us now walking anywhere in Kankakeeland, but
especially in the Bourbonnais area. Bill trusts me enough now
that he no longer brings his cane along. I still get a little
spooked once in awhile and cannot quite figure out what I should
do in a ticklish situation. Bill is patient and takes his time in
working out these problems with me. Sudden commotions, quick
movements, certain strangers, or if I get my toes stepped on--I
can act pretty crazily. These little distractions do not last
very long, and Bill is learning to accommodate me when I have
these weird moments. On the whole, I think I am getting pretty
good, and I hope Bill thinks so too.
     Bill is going to find out just how much I have learned and
how much I have matured when he takes me to the annual convention
of the National Federation of the Blind, to be held in Chicago
during the first week of July. We will be staying in the Hilton
and Towers for a week. There will be 2,500 to 3,000 blind persons
in attendance there, many of whom will have guide dogs. Both
people and dogs will be strangers to me. We will have to cross
Michigan Avenue to exercise in Grant Park several times a day.
Bill has been trying to get me ready for this big event by
walking me along Main Street, where there is much traffic, and
letting me lead him across Illinois Highway 102 and U. S. Highway
45-52. I think we are doing pretty well, even if I say so myself!
I hope that I have my lessons down pat when Bill takes me to
Chicago. I do not want to goof up in that crowd. After all, a
Poodle must show his stuff before all those people and those
Shepherds, Labs, and Golden Retrievers. I want you to know that
this Poodle is no "powder puff," no matter what some people might
think. You believe I can do it, do you not?
     Remember, when you see me with my harness on, I am in my
working mode. It is a no-no to pet or talk to a guide dog while
he or she is in harness. Distraction of this sort causes me to
lose my concentration, and that leads to mistakes--and you would
not want me to be scolded, would you? If people pay too much
attention to me, sometimes I want to jump up and run around
wildly, or I will take my master to you the next time we see you
rather than doing what I am supposed to do. It is never a good
idea to feed a guide dog anything without its owner's permission.
You will hear or see my master talking to me when walking along
noisy sidewalks or in big crowds. I like to hear him say, "That's
a good boy! Very good, Prince, very good! That's okay." His voice
makes me feel good inside and helps me with my concentration and
keeps me focused on what I am doing at the moment. I hope to be
seeing you around one of these days.

                                                     Your friend,
                                                           Prince


[Photo #21 Caption: Gary Wunder]

                 IN SEARCH OF INDEPENDENT TRAVEL
                         By Gary Wunder

     As any blind person will tell you, the most frustrating
problem for the untrained blind pedestrian is mobility; and the
greatest freedom one is likely to experience is when he or she
can travel independently to wherever he wants to go. Because
travel is so important, it is often an issue about which we feel
very emotional. The technique which gives independence to us
personally is one we are eager to sell, and it is all too easy to
seek converts, just as those who are devoutly religious seek
converts.
     For the ten years of my life before I got a cane, my travel
was always the responsibility of somebody with sight. Not only
were my sighted friends and family expected to keep me safe by
guiding me around objects and warning me of curbs and stairs, but
additionally it was their job to plan my routes and to navigate
them for me. I came to think of travel as a passive experience,
and so I felt quite put upon when I began to venture out on my
own and realized that it required both planning and
concentration.
     I didn't begin to find real independence in travel until age
eleven when I was given a cane and enough instruction to travel
through the crowded streets of St. Louis. For the first time I
could go by myself to the store for candy, walk to church on
Sunday morning, or visit a ham radio friend on the pretense I was
going to church. 
     As liberating as this new freedom was, there were still
problems which made travel difficult. The cane I was given came
just below where my breast bones converged, and the result was
that often I would learn of a curb or a pole just before I
stepped off of or into it. What I wanted, of course, was enough
warning to stop or to alter my course. Because my cane was short,
I traveled with my elbow held rigidly to get as much advance
notice as I could. I also learned to shorten my stride and reduce
my speed to lessen the pain when I came in contact with a
bicycle, a sign, or a telephone pole. Because I knew I would have
so little time in which to react, travel caused me to become very
tense, and the thought that it could ever become easy and
enjoyable seemed remote.
     Lastly, because I had for so long viewed travel as a passive
experience, I had the bad habit of wanting to walk first and
think later. This often left me confused about where I was and
what I had done to get there.
     Shortly before I graduated from high school, I watched a
Disney feature about the Seeing Eye. The story was quite moving
and presented the use of a dog guide in a very positive light. As
I began to learn more about dog guides through brochures from the
schools and by making contact with Federationists who used dogs,
I was excited by many things the dog could do which the cane
could not. I was told, and in some cases could observe for
myself, that dog-guide users traveled more rapidly down crowded
sidewalks, that their dogs could maneuver them around obstacles
without breaking pace, and that there was a real kinship between
man and dog when united in a common goal. I had always found a
certain romance in the idea that the police dog would work with
the policeman and the husky with the musher, so the experience of
teaming with a dog seemed a good way to solve some real problems
and at the same time add a new dimension to my life. 
     Friends with dog guides told me how their dogs could learn a
route in no time at all and how much easier this made their daily
travel. They said the dog was also a real ice breaker with people
and that never did they stand as silent observers while others
conversed around them as though they were not there. The dog made
the public ask questions, and the questions gave those of us who
were blind a way to initiate conversations and convince the
public of our normality.
     As I made application to various schools in preparation for
getting a dog, the animal I would get came to look less and less
like the work animals and house pets I had known, and ever more
like a human being which simply occupied a non-human body. The
extent to which this transformation changed what I thought I
would be getting cannot be overstated. Some of this
transformation came from the positive literature generated by the
schools and from the glowing reports printed in newspapers and
magazines. Some no doubt came from the fact that I wanted what I
wanted and would do whatever I could to rationalize when
legitimate concerns about what I was doing would arise. 
     Normal house pets would shed hair which many found
objectionable, but the dog guide, so said the literature, would
not shed if properly washed and groomed. Dogs, whether inside or
outside pets, all had a certain odor associated with them. Again,
bathing and grooming were the answer as long as the dog-guide
owner was conscientious. House pets would sometimes chew and
destroy clothing and other household items, but dog guides were
trained from six weeks of age and so would not. House pets would
sometimes steal food from counter tops or raid the kitchen trash,
but again we were talking about highly trained animals which had
evolved beyond these base animal behaviors and understood that
this was not acceptable conduct in the world of the human being.
House pets sometimes embarrassed their owners by licking or
nuzzling visitors in inappropriate places, but the dog guide had
lived with humans from birth and its training ensured that such
behavior was limited to their non-working relatives. House pets
sometimes had accidents in the homes of their owners, but this
issue had little relevance to the dog guide user who (1) would
always ensure that his dog had plenty of time outside to "Do His
Business," and (2) was keenly in tune with his dog's wants and
needs and could sense the need before an accident would occur.
     As I dreamed about and made plans to get such a wonderful
guide, many of my family and friends were relieved and excited at
the prospect and said that they had always believed I would
someday get a helper. The excitement and relief were not,
however, universal. Some were gentle in voicing a concern about
my always being accompanied by a dog and the limitations that
this might impose. Others were quite firm in saying that realism
demanded taking account of those who did not like dogs in their
cars, in their homes, and in their businesses, and that it seemed
doubtful at best and foolish at worst for me to create another
impediment to my acceptance.
     In my excitement to do what I had already decided to do, I
sought out those who supported what I believed and told myself
that those who disagreed were being narrow-minded and foolish. I
had a right to the mobility aid of my choice; those who objected
didn't know what I knew about these wonderful animals; and I was
arrogant enough to believe that I could convert anyone who lacked
proper information about my almost-human companion. If there were
to be some occasional problems like a dog hair here or there or
my dog's relieving himself in someone's yard, wasn't that almost
insignificant given how important the dog would be to me? The
price others were asked to pay was so small compared to the
benefit I would derive that I easily dismissed the reservations
and objections.
     When I came home with a beautiful golden retriever who was
both well-trained and almost universally admired, I was quite
proud of the decision I had made. Much of what I had heard and
read was wonderfully coming true for me. It was true that I could
walk more rapidly than I had with a cane. It was true that the
dog could see the fountain in my path and gently guide me around
it without my ever slowing or bothering to acknowledge the
barrier. My gait was again normal, and I did not shuffle or
proceed hesitantly. The tension which came from my extended arm
and the need to react immediately to any information from the
cane was gone, and I felt that independent travel was easier than
at any time in my life.
     The dog did indeed act as an ice breaker around strangers
and started many conversations where previously there had been
silence. Like many blind friends who had encouraged me to get a
dog, I very much enjoyed being part of a man/dog team and felt
that my handling of the dog gave me claim to some coveted
expertise in the training and use of dogs. The loyalty and
affection of this fine animal was exceedingly pleasant, and I
worked diligently on his obedience and grooming to see that we
were a team which would command respect and admiration. I knew
that his appearance and reputation were closely tied to mine, and
both were exceedingly important to me.
     Over time the newness and the glamour of having this
wonderfully trained animal gave way to the needs of being a
college student and living independently in my own apartment.
When I came to the large campus at the University of Missouri at
Columbia, I found that learning it posed a very different
challenge from what I had experienced with the cane and had
expected to experience with the dog. Landmarks I once located
with my cane were no longer apparent to me. The trash can or the
sign pole on the corner were invisible because the dog's job was
to see that I was not bothered by them. To know where I was, I
had to rely less on observable, touchable landmarks and more on
having an accurate map in my head and knowing my position on that
map.
     Counting sidewalks so that I could take the fourth one on
the right also became a challenge. As a cane traveler I would
look for each sidewalk by swinging the cane into the grass until
I touched concrete and would then keep traveling straight until I
came to the sidewalk I wanted. With the dog a different strategy
was required. The most awkward way to find the fourth sidewalk
was to ask the dog to take the first possible right, stop and
praise him when he found it, and then to have him continue
straight, repeating the action for the second walk, the third
walk, and eventually turning when I reached the walk I wanted. 
     Other alternatives were also sometimes possible. Learning
how long it took to walk to the fourth walk could sometimes solve
the problem so that I didn't ask the dog to look for the next
available right until I had passed the three walks preceding it.
Using sound cues or the shade from overhanging trees could also
tell me where I was in relation to the turn I wanted to make. 
     While the technique is sometimes ridiculed, I found that I
could also count the steps between where I started and where I
wanted to turn and could do so while still daydreaming or
carrying on a conversation or doing any number of other things
one does to enjoy a stroll. This latter technique became
impractical, of course, if the distance was long, but even here
it could be employed if the count could begin following one of
the cues I mentioned above. 
     While the dog could certainly learn a route, rewarding him
for doing so had its own set of problems. Confusion ensued when
sometimes I took the third walk on the left and sometimes I
wanted to travel beyond it. The very notion that the dog could
and would do my thinking for me also proved to be costly when I
would realize that I hadn't a clue as to where we were and that
the dog was similarly confused and looking to me for direction.
Over time I came to rely less and less on the dog's knowing where
we wanted to go and eventually came actively to discourage his
guesses. He soon learned that he got more praise for following my
specific instructions than he did for trying to anticipate our
next turn.
     The point in discussing the changes I found in moving from a
cane to a dog is that I traded one set of problems and solutions
for another. Some requirements of travel were easier with my dog,
and some were easier with my cane.
     My greatest frustration in getting about was that
orientation, which had been my biggest travel problem as a cane
user, was still my number one problem when using my dog. If I
insisted on traveling first and thinking later, I only got lost
more rapidly and at greater distances from home. No matter which
travel aid I used, I still had to take responsibility for knowing
where I was, where I wanted to go, and where those two points
were in relation to each other.
     More disturbing than any of my misconceptions about what the
dog would do for my mobility was the realization that a noble
mission, a willing partner, and an emotional title (seeing eye
dog, pilot dog, guiding eyes dog) could not transform my
wonderful animal into a creature ideally suited to the life of a
human. Similarly disconcerting was the realization that I could
not, by my attention to his training and care, make him as
acceptable as a human in human society. My dog, for all of his
virtues and exemplary qualities, was still a dog with all the
failings and difficulties such a creature has when living in the
environment of man and when judged by the standards of man. 
     A dog, no matter how well-groomed, will still smell like a
dog and will still shed hair. My dog, no matter how well trained
or disciplined, would still, on occasion, eat an unguarded
chocolate cake, steal meat from the counter top, or tear up my
trash in search of bones and other dog delicacies. 
     Careful attention to feeding and relieving my animal was
strictly observed, but this provided no guarantee against
embarrassing gas, the need for unscheduled relief, and even
accidents both at home and in public. I cannot overstate the
impact these realizations had on me as I came down from cloud
nine and realized that I had indeed been given a dog.
     Never in my guide-dog fantasy trips had I been confronted by
an angry woman when my dog sniffed her bottom or touched her leg
with his nose. It matters very little in terms of the reaction
one gets whether the dog is guilty of the acts attributed to him
or not. In some cases my dog's contact with those who found it
objectionable was caused by his nature and proclivities as a dog.
In many other cases he was not to blame, as when we would be
traveling in a crowd and the person ahead of us would stop
abruptly. More than once I remember standing on an elevator with
my dog's head placed firmly against my leg, only to find that a
woman would walk into the car, turn to face the door, and
gradually back toward me until she quite literally backed into
the cold nose she so despised. The dog's innocence or guilt made
little difference to the woman so touched, and I doubt that it
made much difference to those within hearing distance either.
     I had no preparation for the reaction I found when I first
took my dog to a dinner party. Whereas, he was admired when he
skillfully maneuvered us through crowds on a downtown sidewalk,
the reaction was very different in a room where we passed by a
crowd with food on their laps at dog level. I never once observed
him taking something from a guest's plate, but each turn of his
head would cause nervous shifting and shouts of "Not my food,
honey," or "Don't put your nose in my plate, Mr. Dog." If what I
relate had been limited only to a particularly nervous guest or
two, or even if it had been limited to the guests of one
particular party, I wouldn't bother to mention the problem, but
the reaction at such events was very nearly universal and
eventually led me to abandon taking my dog to such parties.
     The literature had never prepared me for the possibility
that my dog might make a mess in a classroom building or for what
it would feel like to watch while the manager of a store ordered
his young employee to get paper towels and a trash can. If my
dog-guide school had encouraged me to carry a baggy for such
eventualities, my reaction might have been less traumatic, but
these possibilities simply didn't exist in the romanticized world
portrayed in the publicity generated by the film industry, the
press, and the schools. The fact that my dog, throughout his six-
year work career, had several such accidents, and that never
could I attribute them to negligence on my part, did much to
undermine my confidence. After the first of such accidents, each
trip I took into a large building caused me to worry about how my
dog was feeling, how long we would be in there, and how far we
would be from an exit. The problem of accidents in large
buildings is made more likely because the act of walking is one
form of stimulation used by the dog to induce relief.
     It certainly must occur to the unbiased reader that perhaps
the incidents I relate came about either because I was not a
competent and conscientious dog-guide user, or perhaps that I
just had a dog lacking in training or physical ability. To argue
about the first point would be fruitless since of course I
believe I did what I had been instructed to do by the school. The
second point I can more objectively argue, based on long
observation of other dog guides. My dog was among the best
trained and well-mannered dogs I have ever seen in guide-dog
work, and lengthy conversations confirm that my experiences are
ones which have been shared by most of my friends and colleagues
who use guide dogs. The difference seems not to be in our
experiences but in how we have reacted to them. 
     One of the unfortunate consequences of the discussions we
normally have about canes and dogs is that they too often focus
on which is the best mobility aid. When I was actively working my
dog, there was no need to choose which was better. I could use
either and let the choice depend on what I wanted to do. When I
wanted a rapid walk, there was my dog. When I wanted to ride in a
sports car to the stadium to take in a football game, there was
my cane. If I went to visit a friend in the hospital, I used my
cane. If that friend asked me out to his farm, I'd take the dog.
     After I used Ely for about three years, a routine
examination found a cancerous tumor on his eyelid. The tumor was
removed, but three years later we found he had lost most of the
vision in that eye because of scar tissue, which had rubbed
against the cornea and caused irreversible damage. I retired him
from active work at that point and began full-time to use a cane.
     By this time in my life I was very active in the Federation
and knew more about what proper cane length for me should be. A
cane which came up to my shoulder was a big improvement. One that
came up to my nose was even better. With the added length I no
longer traveled with a shortened stride, with a tense and
extended arm, or with tension in every part of my body. I now had
sufficient time to travel at a normal rate of speed, knowing I
could stop when my cane indicated a curb, a set of stairs, or an
open manhole. Finally, understanding that orientation was my
responsibility, I no longer felt put upon by the requirement that
I think and plan before darting off on an errand.
     My travel now is exclusively with a cane, Ely having died of
cancer in 1983. Walking is one of my most enjoyable pastimes, and
there is nothing I find more relaxing after a long day at work.
Nothing is more therapeutic when I need to make a decision.
Sometimes I walk for the pleasure of feeling the sun's warmth,
taking in the fresh air, listening to the birds, or saying hello
to the neighbors. Sometimes I carry my cassette player and enjoy
Dickens or Asimov while getting some much needed exercise. 
     Orientation still remains my biggest travel challenge. While
I am much better at planning and in taking an active role in my
own travel, there are still times when I am confused by strange
angles, wide open spaces, and buildings with very wide corridors
and high ceilings. If, in learning a new place, I am trying to
get from point X to point Y, and in that travel I make a few
wrong turns and must backtrack a time or two, it is possible and
even probable I will complete my trek without the vaguest notion
of where X and Y are in relation to each other. No mobility aid
yet developed will solve this problem, and while a solution would
be quite beneficial, not having one hasn't kept me from traveling
to any place I really want to go.
     Where does all of this leave me in the discussion about dog
and cane? My use of both has led me to conclude that my travel
needs are better served by the cane and that I am just too
anxious about inescapable dog behaviors to travel comfortably day
in and day out in all kinds of situations accompanied by an
animal. My conclusions are shared hesitantly and even
reluctantly, for I think there are many pleasurable experiences
one can have with a well-trained guide dog, and I in no way wish
to diminish these. I do feel an obligation to share my
experiences and reactions, however, when I find those considering
a dog drifting off into Never Never Land as I did when my desire
for a mobility aid evolved into a desire for something a dog just
could not be. 
     And what are my feelings about the cane? Does it meet all of
the needs I confront as a blind traveler? The answer,
unfortunately, is no, and the bump on my head which I acquired
last week at a hotel with a fancy rock arch compels me to be
honest about those areas of the body the cane just doesn't cover.
Might I consider a device to supplement the information I get
from the cane? The answer is a definite YES if that supplement
were (1) useful, (2) easily carried, and (3) affordable. A good
compass might be a helpful travel tool. The global positioning
system linked with a good audible map might be another. It
doesn't take much imagination to conceive of other devices one
might find helpful, but again we get back to the question of how
useful each device will be and how many devices a person would
want to carry on a regular basis.
     It seems to me that my independent travel experiences bring
me once again to the wisdom echoed by Federationists when we talk
about tools and aids. The real issue in successful travel is our
personal competence and how we feel about the alternative
techniques which we who are blind use in lieu of sight. Because
independent travel is so very important in leading a full life,
it is critical that we talk openly and honestly about the options
we have and that we freely discuss what each brings to us and its
cost. Our desire should not be to convert all of the blind to our
way of thinking once we have made a decision about our mobility,
but to provide our brothers and sisters in the movement with the
kind of information which will let them find the techniques which
bring optimum independence for them.