A Little More About my Girl

Am I that predictable? Those of you who guessed, guessed right. :)
You are right. My new dog is a Golden Retriever Labrador cross. Apparently, according to one of the trainers, these dogs are used nearly twice as more as any of the other breeds. Flat Coated Retrievers, German Shepherd Dogs, Labradors and Golden Retrievers are also used, but a few years ago the Golden/Lab crosses were used about 45 percent of the time. They've also started using Golden Retriever German Shepherd Dog crosses with some success, but I think this is in the beginning stages. I had hoped for one of these, but since I've already waited six months, I am quite happy with my Golden/Lab cross.
So, what else can I tell you about her?
It's actually hard because I really don't know much. I keep forgetting to ask her age, but we've estimated somewhere between 18 and 20 months. I'll have that confirmed next week. I'm not entirely sure how much she weighs, but surprisingly she's almost as big as Roscoe. That was slightly shocking for me since the majority of dogs I see here, males and females, aren't nearly as big as Glacier or Roscoe. Sure, there are some exceptions like this giant of a German Shepherd named Flint that we see out on our walks, but on a whole, the dogs are smaller. So, when I got to check her out, I was pleasantly surprised at her size. She's definitely bigger than Jetta. The trainer described her as medium sized and I would say that is pretty accurate.
She's yellow of course, having been bred from two very yellow breeds. She's got kind of highlighting like a Golden Retriever would, but isn't nearly as light as Glacier. To me, she feels like a crossed dog, but to just the average person, she would just look like a Labrador. She's just a bit thicker and her fur a wee bit longer, but she's definitely not feathery like a Golden. At some point during training, I'll attempt to post a picture. The problem is that with blogger's new interface posting photos/links/everything else that is not a regular post is nearly impossible.
Other than her name, that is all I really know. I know she likes to work and is a bit excitable, but very easy to re-focus. Apparently she alert barks at doorbells, so I'll have to stay on her about that. She seems to be quite playful and personable which is nice as well.
So, what about her name?
Well, about that.
I'm in the process of seeing if I can change it for a multitude of reasons; the most important being that I have a family member with the same name. It's weird just thinking of her with this name, I can't imagine what it would be like to work with her with it. It's just not a dog name. So, until I get that all sorted, I'll keep that to myself for now. However, I'll tell you the two names I was thinking of switching it to and you guys can either guess what her name really is or tell me which one you like better. That or you can do both. :)
Her potential names are:
Nala (from the Lion King)
and
Petra (which means rock and is also the capital of Jordan).
Can you guess which one I chose?

Explanation of the Evil Stick

Having been matched with my potential new guide dog, the excitement of being rid of the white cane is rising. If I'm being totally honest, I don't really use it as much as I should and thus my independence has suffered quite a bit since Glacier's retirement. Well, my independence sort of suffered a bit even when he was working because I was nervous to go out and work with him, but I was definitely getting out on my own more than I am now. Is my aversion to the white cane a good thing? Of course not and I know my new guide dog trainer was slightly horrified when I told him I was terrible with it and have hardly used it since being matched with Jetta in 2002, but I was just being honest. Not to mention, even though I don't use the cane, I am pretty comfortable in areas that I am familiar with and could give a sighted person directions if necessary. It's not the directions that confuse me or walking a straight line. It's not even the strange feeling like I'm floating out in space when using the cane. It's just that the cane is so slow and I get it stuck in everything. I've had this discussion with quite a few people, Mr. K being one of them, and he assures me it's because I'm using it wrong. I believe him.
When Mr. K takes the cane out he hardly ever hits objects and despite it gut checking him because the sidewalk is uneven, he really doesn't have the problems with it that I do. There's probably a myriad of factors that contribute to his success as a cane user and I am not, one of them being that I just hate the thing and can't seem to bring myself to learn to use it properly. I thought that when Glacier retired I'd get lessons and become at least an average cane user instead of a less than horrible cane user, but the instructors are so over booked that I couldn't even get on the waiting list. So, I remained horrible. The funny thing is I can get around better without the cane than with it. For example, I can walk Hermione and Otis both down to the relieving area without the cane just fine, but if I take the cane I run in to everything and get caught on the pavement. Sometimes when I'm feeling particularly ambitious and I know the cycling trail is going to be quiet, I walk the dogs-off leash-without the cane. I can walk a fairly straight line and just check the edge of the grass with my foot every once in a while to make sure I'm still along the side. If I didn't have to worry about strange objects and other pedestrians blocking my path, I could probably walk the streets without a cane, but put one in my hand and I'm all over the place. I don't know if it's because I'm deaf in the ear on the side  that I carry the cane and it makes me unbalanced or what it is, but I run into everything. Maybe it's entirely in my head. That is very possible.
When I attended a school for the blind for three years, I spent the last two years there running about the campus caneless. I used pavement/floor changes, the sounds of buildings and so many other cues to know where to go. Once you've been in a particular place long enough your body also becomes accustomed to turning at certain spots. The fancy technical term for it is "time distance estimation." I used it the other day when showing the guide dog trainer where I'd be relieving my new dog.
It was the day I told him that my cane skills were terrible. We walked from my flat, him guiding me, and me telling him where to turn or where to go straight. When we approached the relieving area I told him to turn right. He asked me how I knew that was the spot and I explained that the ground changed as well as my time distance estimation being honed for that area since I walk the dogs there multiple times a day. I don't really know how to explain time distance estimation, but it is probably the equivalent of a sighted person walking from their bedroom to the bathroom in the middle of the night and not turning on a light. You know how to get to the toilet without falling down the stairs or taking a wrong turn. Your body just takes you there. However, if someone leaves a toy in the middle of the hall or a door ajar that normally isn't open, you trip over the toy or run into the door. These things get in the way of your time distance estimation. I think this is where the cane and I start clashing.
Because my cane wielding skills aren't great and I therefore get caught on cracks in the sidewalk, garbage bins, poles and whatever else may be sort of in my path, my time distance estimation gets interrupted. When I walk with a guide dog, that isn't disrupted. Ideally, we move smoothly and a particular speed is maintained. These fluid and uninterrupted movements allow me to feel more confident in my time distance estimation. I think that is why walking around without a cane on the cycling path and down to the dogs' relieving spot is more comfortable for me. I can just get there without the constant jolting and extra arm movement that the cane use requires. The only problem with this, or perhaps not the only problem but one of the greater ones, is that people don't know I can't see.
I can't tell you how long it took for people who I see regularly on the cycling path to realise I was blind. Some of them I told just to reduce some of the confusion and others eventually saw me using the white cane on longer walks with the dogs or walking sighted guide with a friend. My lack of identifier is problematic though in the instances when I don't see a person on a regular basis and I accidentally step into their path instead of moving out of it as intended. Once, I accidentally body checked someone in to a railing that runs along the top of the cycling trail because we both went the same direction. I think if I had had a cane at least they would have known to be more aware of which way I was going and then if I had still managed to body check them into the railing, they'd understand that I wasn't just a jerk.
So really, is the cane an evil stick?
Certainly not.
It functions well for a lot of blind people who have mastered the skill of walking with it.
Would it have made my life easier in the last six months if I had had lessons and learned to use it competently?
Of course.
And yet, knowing all of this, I chose only to use it when absolutely necessary and then only in very, very familiar areas. To me, it is still the evil stick and I will always prefer a guide dog over it. That is why I can't wait until I go into training with my new dog.
However, I have learned something in these last six months.
1. I can get better with the cane if I actually try. The first times I took it out on the trail with the dogs off leash, I hardly went anywhere because of how often it got stuck. I really don't have that problem anymore.
2. I really should learn to use it. No more explanation needed. I will just need an incredibly patient teacher.
That said, bring on the guide dog training class.

Guide Dog Training Update

So just as the title of this post suggests, I'm here to give you a guide dog training update. Things have been a bit nuts with us originally thinking we were going into class on the the 25th of February, but the other student is apparently going on a vacation smack in the middle of the training session. So, the training dates may be moved up until the 11th of February instead. Since we're discussing dates, I'm going to go out on a limb and say that this dog and I will be trained together and hopefully turn into a working team. This is all very exciting.
One concern the guide dog organisation had was the number of dogs in our flat. The concerns they expressed were logical, such as us having a space shortage, but it had me worried for a while that getting a guide dog was going to be a problem. There's a lot I could say about the whole thing, but in reality there's no point. I'm going into class and everything should turn out fine. It would just be interesting to know what people with children are told who are attempting to "qualify"(AKA graduate) with a guide dog.
So, I'm sure you'd like details of the new dog, but the problem is I was so wrapped up in the issue of having too many dogs that I forgot to ask if I could talk about HER. That's right: I'm getting a girl. I figure I can tell you at least that much. It's about time too: Hermione and I are outnumbered right now. ;)
Other than our little dilemma, the meeting on Wednesday went well. All of the dogs got along just fine and the trainer and I spent some time going around the routes that I'll be taking. If there is time, he is going to show her the routes in order to make the transition from training in the hotel to our area easier, but if the training dates are moved up to February 11th, there won't be the time to go through that process. Her trainer is also one of the only ones in this area target training his dogs. I really appreciate this skill because it means that she can find light poles and other helpful objects.
So, all in all, despite the one glitch, the meeting on Wednesday went pretty well. I saw her only for a brief few minutes and spent the rest of the time showing the trainer around, but it was good to be able to ask some questions and get to know the trainer a bit more. I don't know when I'll see her again, but I'm supposed to hear from the trainer on Tuesday to confirm the dates that we'll be training.

Happy Days!

I got the call. Wednesday afternoon my cell phone rang and on the other end was one of the Guide Dogs trainers letting me know that they had a potential match for me. He wanted to meet up Friday to see if the dog and I would work well together. He said that we were perfect on paper, but that was just paper. The trainer that I've been working with up until now had gone to see the dog and told this trainer to call me. That in and of itself was encouraging. So, we agreed to meet Friday for a walk and a chat.
Friday afternoon came much too slowly in my opinion. I was very excited Thursday night and didn't sleep well. The trainer picked me up just after 1 and drove me out to the area that the dog's been training in. We chatted on the drive about the process ahead and the sorts of things that happened during training if we got there. At the training area, the trainer unloaded the dog from the back of the van and put the harness on. He explained that we'd be walking along both quiet and busy streets and that he'd have an extenda leash clipped to the dog just in case I needed him. I still was incredibly nervous. I was so worried that things wouldn't work out and I'd have to keep waiting. I was also worried that I'd decide that we were a good match and be wrong just because I didn't want to wait anymore. I had told myself the night before to try to be aware of anything I might not like and to mention them. I wasn't going to go down the same path as I had taken with Glacier. I had noticed things in training and had mentioned them to his trainer, but was brushed off. I was determined not to be brushed off again.
The first part of the walk took us along side a park. The dog was very focused and despite other dogs running off leash in the park, the dog kept us moving forward. Little reminders to "straight on" helped, but the dog was very easy to re-direct and re-focus. "Straight on" was a new cue for me, so I had to keep reminding myself to say the right cue. Leader Dogs uses just "straight" and so sometimes I'd almost forget the "on" part. At the first curb we came to, we hung a right and began walking along a busy street. My left arm/hand was very tense and the trainer asked me if I was okay. I told him that it was a bit scary since I hadn't done this in a while. I made a conscious decision to relax. I knew that the dog would be able to pick up on my uncertainty and nervousness which would make the dog uncomfortable.
The trainer warned me of a bus stop that was coming up. There was also a pole in the proximity of the bus stop that required the dog to navigate me carefully through. We approached the bus stop and I could hear people waiting for the bus and just as we walked up the bus arrived. I was a bit concerned about getting through the crowd, but the dog moved cleanly through, leaning towards the bus door as if to say, "in here?" A "straight on" was all that was needed to keep us moving forward.
The walk carried on from there with many obstacles for us to work around. It was garbage day and so there were a lot of bins/bags/boxes out on the curb that we had to avoid. Not to mention, your every day pedestrian traffic, other dogs, birds and at one point the sea. Along the section where the sea was on our left, I had to keep reminding the dog "straight on" and gave the dog one small collar correction when the temptation of the sea was just too much, but again, re-directing the dog was so easy. There was no heavy corrections needed, no harsh tones either. The dog seemed to respond well to calm, quiet cues and this is how I like to work. I also didn't have to play cheerleader the whole time we were walking.
When Glacier and I used to go out, I'd have to praise him the whole time and keep talking to him or he'd lose confidence and stop working. Thankfully, this dog doesn't need that. Jett had needed harsher tones to keep her focused; not agressive ones, just a sharper tone to "leave it" or "straight." Anything less and she didn't pay attention to me. Again, none of that was necessary.
We moved between parked cars, around a van blocking the entire sidewalk and past three dogs without incident. To be honest, I didn't even know we past the dogs until after the walk and I asked if there had been any dog distractions besides the ones in the park. Suffice it to say, I was very impressed.
I also learned a few more new cues and some new body positioning. The body positioning is very particular when you're crossing streets with regards to your foot position as well as when you need to go down a side street and the dog is in the way of turning that way. The trainer had to keep on me about relaxing my arm and remind me about foot positions at crossings, but none of those issues were with the dog itself. My biggest fault was the tense arm and I had difficulty remembering to slide my right foot behind the left before telling the dog to "forward," but that will all come with practice.
 The trainer has even trained the dog to "find the pole" at particular crossings. I'm so glad he's done this because it means that it is a transferrable skill to other areas/objects. When the dog is told to "find the pole" the dog walks up to the pole and touches it with its nose.
When our amazing walk came to an end, the trainer asked me what I thought. I told him I was blown away at how easily the dog listened to cues and at how responsive the dog was. It was also very obvious that the dog loved working and that was a relief to me. The trainer had warned me that this particular dog liked to anticipate and sometimes would rush because of this, but that wasn't really hard to deal with. I just had to remind the dog to "wait" at curbs sometimes and only twice I had to bring the dog back into a "sit." I like that the dogs here are taught "wait." It was something I later taught Jetta and Glacier, but it's nice that it comes built in already with these dogs. :)
The sitting at the curbs was something I had to get used to, but to be honest, I think that it was beneficial. Before now I didn't think having your guide dog sit at curbs was a good idea and perhaps in most cases it's not, but for the way I work and the way this dog works, it's a good thing. It keeps the dog from rushing and makes me feel more relaxed at crossings. I feel like I can take my time deciding if it's safe to cross.
We talked a bit more about how the walk felt and then the trainer told me that he had unclipped the extenda leash in the last half of the route. I had had my suspicions because he'd leaned forward once and then was walking in a different position than before, but I was too busy paying attention to the dog and trying to read the dog's body language that I hardly gave it any thought. Knowing that he felt comfortable enough to let us fly solo, so to speak, made me feel so much pride in our work. It also made me hopeful that this dog was the one.
I brought the dog into the heel position at the back of the van and the dog sat. Then the trainer instructed me to remove her collar and with it, the leash. The van door was opened and the dog was told to "wait." After a few seconds the dog was told that it was all right to get in. I can't quite remember what the wording was because my head was buzzing with a million questions and replays of the walk, but it was something like "in you get" or something like that.
The humans then hopped in the van to get warmed up and the trainer asked me if I liked the dog. Of course I said yes. He asked me if I liked working with the dog and of course I said yes again. Then he asked me if I wanted to go into training with the dog. I laughed and said, "yes please." He laughed too and said that he thought we were a good match and that he wanted us to train together. So, it was decided that I'd probably go into training some time at the end of February if everything went as planned.
The trainer took me to meet the volunteer that the dog is staying with during this phase of training. This too is different than most North American schools as the dogs usually stay in kennels during harness training. Here, the dogs stay with a volunteer family so that the dogs live in an environment that is as real as possible. After that, we headed over to the hotel where we will be staying during our training together. This is also different from most North American schools as well.
When I got Jetta and Glacier, I stayed in a very large, purpose built residence building on the campus of the guide dog school. In Scotland, they use hotels. This particular hotel is very nice and all of the staff that I met were very friendly and seemed helpful. I definitely won't mind staying in that hotel for two and a half weeks.
After the hotel tour it was back home we went. We made plans to meet again on Wednesday to have the dog meet my crazy family of Hermione, Otis and Roscoe. We'll also show the dog the flat and then we're going to discuss routes that I would take on a regular basis. The idea behind that is to teach the dog as many of the routes that we will be taking as possible. I'm so lucky to be training locally so that the trainer can start early on our routes. It should make the transition for both of us a lot easier when we come home after our two and a half weeks of training at the hotel. Once we return home, the training will continue for another week or so with us living at home. I think this is so that the trainer can help with any settling in issues as well as go over local routes.
So, the point of this gigantic rambling blog post is that there is finally light at the end of the tunnel. I have met and liked my potential new guide dog. I have to wait a month while the trainer works on polishing skills with the dog, but from what I saw on Friday, I'm going to be a very lucky woman come end of February. I'm not going to share any of the dog's details just yet as I'm not sure that I'm supposed to. Besides, I don't want to jinx it. :) Maybe after our meeting Wednesday I'll be able to tell you more.

Going, Going, Going!

I'm not entirely sure where the time has gone since my last post. I thought it had been only a few days, but in fact it's been over a week; at least. It's funny because some days seem to take forever, but in the grand scheme of things, this last little while has just disappeared. I've got a few things on my agenda right now and that may be where my time and energy has gone.
My parents are coming over for Christmas and the last time I did a count it was a month to go. Today, while out for a walk with Carmen and the pups, I realised that it's just over three weeks. So exciting. I've been browsing the internet for fun things for us to do while they are here and so, that is where part of that time went.
I've also noticed that every day things always end up having an element of adventure around here. I think I should have
"never a dull moment"
tattooed on my forehead.
Just the other morning, for example, I was heading on to the university campus for the entire day. I took everyone for a quick off leash run to release some of their energy so that Mr. K could get some school work done himself. I was nearly back to the flat when I realised that Hermione and Roscoe had run off. I began to panic after I stood calling them for over five minutes. Not only was I going to be late to my meeting with my professor, but I had just lost two of my dogs; despite Hermione wearing a bell. Eventually, a neighbor came down, still wearing her jammies, and was calling them with me and when she spotted Roscoe I felt a bit better, but it was short lived because Hermione wasn't with him. Mr. K came out because I had called him and just as he arrived so did Hermione, panting and frothing at the mouth. I still have no idea where they went. Surprisingly, I made it to my meeting on time.
It was on the heels of that incident  that Roscoe pulled a similar trick today. Again, nearly home after a long off leash run and romp in the park with other dogs, he takes off. It had started to rain on our way home and we were all soaked. Carmen had stuck Otis down the front of her water proof jacket because it was raining so hard. After I realised that Roscoe was gone, I leashed Hermione, who had thankfully stuck around this time and we spent the next ten minutes wandering up and down the cycling path calling for him. Mr. K was called again and he came out too. Roscoe must have been closer to him because when he called Roscoe, the big black fur ball came running. Mr. K said he thinks Roscoe was looking for us. I don't know if he got ahead of us in the wooded part and then didn't realise we were behind him or what, but he got home safe and sound. He did have a small cut on his paw that was bleeding a bit, but Mr. K put him in the bath and Roscoe and his injured paw were washed thoroughly. I think it's time for some obedience and recall refreshers for Mr. Ranger Roscoe. Wherever he went was very muddy. All we were trying to do was go for a walk!
On top of the usual doggie stuff, like Hermione having the crap scared out of her by some dog that chased her all of the way home-that's another crazy story-I've been researching for/writing essays, intermixed with group project meetings, classes and everything else you could  possibly do for school.
I also have two personal projects on the go: fundraising/training for my big run from Edinburgh to London next November and working on the logistics of setting up an online doggie boutique complete with bakery. Each project is big enough on its own, but put everything together and time just gets away from me and so does the laundry/dishes/all other house work that needs to be done.
Admittedly, some of this time escaping is my own doing in that I've taken on a lot, but on the other hand, the random weird happenings of my life, like having an entire bottle of dog shampoo bust open on the bathroom floor when I am trying to clean and making an even bigger mess, is not. I know I'm clumsy, but sheesh! Give a girl a break! :)
So what's on the agenda for tonight?
Well...I've got a load of laundry in the dryer and another in the washer...oh and one folded already. I've finished cleaning the kitchen, but still need to vaccuum the flat. That may need to wait until tomorrow though as my neighbors may not appreciate the noise. So, that scratches house stuff off the list; except for the laundry I have to finish.
I do have research for essays to complete and I probably should write some more, but I already did some today and I'm not quite in the mood. Besides, it's Friday night, right?
To be honest, there's a whole lot I could do and probably should do, but tonight I'm putting it all on hold to sit down with my puppies, probably a husband, some wine and either a good book or a movie. Tonight I am not "doing" anything else-except the rest of the laundry. Tonight I'm taking the night off which means I should stop writing now. ;)

Six Hundred and Counting!

That's right.
Nearly seven years since I started this blog and this is my six hundredth post. It's kind of amazing to think that I have managed to spew my verbal diarrhea out into the electronic world of the internet for this long. Seriously, who reads this stuff?! :)
It's also interesting to see how my writing style has changed. It's gone from "crazy, angry, advocacy" girl, to "more crazy, more productive, slightly more eloquent, still rants about certain issues" girl. Life is full of so many surprises.
I had started this blog to chronicle the adventures my first Leader dog Jetta and I had together. The blog has seen a few name changes going from "Jess and Jetta's Adventures" to "At A Glacial Pace" in honour of my second Leader dog Glacier. After his retirement this past July, I thought that perhaps it was time the blog had its own name, one that reflected me, but could also incorporate my successor guide dogs; whoever they may be. Hence, "Walking Barefoot in the Sand" replaced the previous titles. It's a long story as to where that name came from and maybe I'll tell it some day, but today, on my six hundredth post, I have some potentially exciting news that I think it quite fitting for a six hundredth post on a blog about a girl moving through life guided by a four legged companion.
In my previous post I talked about how a potential dog had been found to replace Glacier, but that he had been scratched off the list because he had skin allergies. After thinking about it for a few nights and talking to Mr. K about it, I emailed my trainer and expressed my certainty that I could deal with a food allergy. In fact, Roscoe has had food allergies in the past and I had forgotten about them because the allergies have been managed so well with diet. I also told the trainer that if it were an environmental allergy, such as being allergic to grass, that I was not prepared or equipped to deal with that type of allergy in a working dog. A pet sure, but not a guide dog. I then went on to say that I respected and trusted his judgment and was in no way attempting to convince him to train this particular dog for me. I just wanted him to be aware of where I stood.
A response came back this morning simply stating, "training started."
I'm not entirely sure what that means. Did he bring that dog into training or did the trainer himself go into class with other clients? I think it's the first so I have my fingers crossed.
There are other stages that the dog must pass in order for us to be matched permanently, such as us meeting and me actually liking the dog or he liking me, but at least this is a start. I'm trying not to get too excited just in case things don't work out, be it his allergies or we just aren't a good match, but it feels good knowing that something is happening. I am not just sitting around waiting. Well, I guess I still am, but  judging by my interpretation of the email this morning, things are progressing and progress is always good.
So, there you have it: the six hundredth time I've hit "create new post," wrote something potentially interesting or potentially not and hit "publish post."
Thank you everyone for reading! :)

She's Still Got It: Jetta the Jitter Bug

It's been just over four years since Jetta my first guide dog retired. She basically retired herself in typical Jetta fashion and moved into a squishy retirement with my parents. I can't believe she's going to be twelve this December.
When I called home the other day Mom and I got to talking and just as we were about to get off the phone she said, "Oh, I almost forgot."
She proceeded to tell me that my dad, being the goofy guy he is, had decided to wrap two "thank you" gifts my parents had bought for family members in Christmas wrap. He finished off the roll and stood chatting to my mom in the kitchen just holding on to the roll; presumably to put it in the recycling. Suddenly, the roll started bouncing around in his hand and he looked down to see Jetta pulling the tube out of his hand. He let her have it and off she went to shred it into little bits in the living room.
This story had me in stitches as it is definitely something Jetta would do. Actually, it really had me laughing because it used to be one of mine and Jetta's Christmas traditions for me to (pretend) attack her with the empty tubes (lightly) whacking her on the head and poking her in the butt; kind of like we were jousting. Well, I guess I was jousting, she was just trying to eat the thing. Not necessarily "by the books" guide dog/handler behavior, but I guess you learn what you can do with your dogs and what you can't. It's good to know that the old girl still remembers and that she's still got her characteristic spunk despite being a senior citizen.
Oh, Jetta. :)

Pie Time!

It is Thanksgiving in the land of ice and snow. Happy Canadian Thanksgiving everyone!
Last year we had a combination Thanksgiving  somewhere between the Canadian and American one, but this year since there are really only three of us left, we're doing things a bit different; a bit smaller scale.
Instead of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and whatever else someone may stuff into oneself on such an occasion, we are skipping all of that.
That's right. We're going straight for dessert!
One of the key staples in my family's Thanksgiving, and I think most everyone else's, is pumpkin pie. I used to hate it as a kid. I think it wasn't sweet enough for my little kid taste buds, but as I've grown older and acquired the taste, nothing can beat a perfectly baked pumpkin pie, topped off by whipped cream. Otherwise known as, in the UK, "squirty cream."
Dessert pies aren't really a popular thing here either. So, it is a treat in more than one way. Not only are we having home made pumpkin pie in celebration of Thanksgiving, but we are also getting dessert pie.
I was thinking about what I am thankful for this year and there are so many things. We've had a good year, with a few hard moments here and there, but it's those hard moments that make you appreciate the good ones even more. It also reminds you of how much loved you are by really supportive family members; even if they are across an ocean.
So what am I thankful for this year?
My family, near and far, furry and not; having the opportunity to be going back to school in a program that I absolutely love; the opportunity to live abroad; the beauty of the city that we live in; coffee (every student is grateful for the stuff); good health; and of course, Mr. K. He and I have had a lot of life changes recently, all good, and I am so thankful that we get to share our lives with one another and enrich each other's lives; at least, I think he enriches my life. Not sure if he feels the same way about me. (Just kidding).
And last but certainly not least, home made pumpkin pie. :)
Happy Thanksgiving!
XOXO

The End of the Story

So, do you remember me saying that it was the demise of me becoming a foster parent? I wasn't joking. I don't think we'll ever get to foster for that rescue again, but I learned some very valuable lessons.
When Flick arrived I felt very overwhelmed. There were a lot of things that seemed to go wrong, or at least were a miscommunication between myself and the rescue, and I think these elements and several others lead to high stress levels for everyone involved; including the rescue volunteers.
I had been under the impression that when Flick arrived she would have everything she needed. I was told she came with bowls, collar/lead, muzzle, crate, coat  and food. When she arrived the only things she had  were her collar/lead, her muzzle which was too big-and apparently we wouldn't have even gotten that if her trainer hadn't given the woman who picked her up one-and a crate that had one door rusted shut. I was handed her leash and the woman said she'd come up and see how everyone got along. When we had chatted on the phone the day before she had asked if she could come up with her new foster dog and I said of course, thinking that we'd all sit down and have a chat about fostering and what that particular rescue expected. No one had done this with me yet and the only things I knew about Greyhounds was what I had read online. I thought she'd come in and give me a quick break down of the breed and allow me to ask any questions, but that is not what happened.
Flick, the volunteer and I went up to my flat to introduce Flick to the resident dogs. Hermione was the only one  out and about at the time as I didn't want Flick to be overwhelmed by dogs and also because Hermione was our greatest concern with regards to Flick's chase instinct.
As I suspected, Hermione wasn't a fan, but that didn't really surprise me. Hermione is, as I've said before, a "B" with an itch and can take some time to warm up to other dogs. She's fine with humans and will launch herself into their laps, but she will hang back and observe other dogs until she knows what they are like. She doesn't bark or growl and isn't rude, she just doesn't get super excited. I figured the two of them would figure it out eventually once Hermione realised that Flick wouldn't hurt her. The only problem was that when they first met, Flick excitedly went to sniff Hermione and whacked the already sore and drugged Hermione with the basket muzzle. If you have ever been hit by one of those, you will know they do not feel good. Hermione let out this horrible noise-I think it was more drama than anything-and removed herself from the room. She disappeared into her crate for the remainder of the day. Mr. K came out at that moment with Otis, whom Flick couldn't care less about, and Roscoe came too. I began to get concerned when Roscoe gave her the cold shoulder since Roscoe is our friendliest guy out of the bunch. He loves to play with other dogs, but I thought it was maybe because she was a different breed that he hasn't seen much and she was wearing the basket muzzle.
After Flick accidentally whacked Hermione, the volunteer was quick to high tail it to the door. I think she was in our flat for a total of five minutes and just showed herself to the door. I had so many questions and the first meeting of everyone had not gone quite as well as I'd hoped, but my opportunity to ask questions/raise concerns was walking out the door. As I stood there tongue tied and surprised at her sudden departure, I told Mr. K that I was confused because there wasn't any food for Flick and the woman had told me that Flick hadn't eaten that day. Mr. K told me to go down and ask her about food and so I did.
I was told, shouted from across the street, that we were to turn in receipts for Flick's food. I didn't have a problem with this method, but that is not what we were originally told and we didn't have any food for her right at that moment. We didn't have bowls either or a jacket. It's October in Scotland: Greyhounds need coats even if only for evening or early morning walks. I had so many more questions, and was also concerned as to how I was supposed to keep Flick warm when out relieving and walking, but the woman was basically in her car closing the door, so I went back upstairs.
Upon my arrival back upstairs, Mr. K was none too pleased about this new arrangement. I can't blame him. As I said before, it's not that we minded, it's just that we had been told something different and we were completely unprepared for our new arrival. We also found out quickly that she had not been relieved before she was handed over as she nearly went on the floor, but a quick "Flick no" cut that short. Thankfully, she is house trained and went instantly when she was taken outside.
There was a lot of stress in our house and so I decided to take Flick for a walk. We went for a good two hours, stopping in a local park to people watch. I introduced her to other dogs, but that was slow going because I think people were nervous of her due to the muzzle. After our walk, I came home to a still very stressed out Mr. K and a Hermione still hiding in her crate. I sat on the floor in front of her crate and talked to her, petting her and encouraging her to come out. I kept Flick nearby on leash and petted her too, trying to get the two girls used to each other. Hermione did eventually come out, only for dinner, and went right back in her crate. We tried putting Flick in her crate and having the household dogs wander about her, but Hermione still wouldn't come out and Flick made such a racket we were worried our neighbours would call the police. I didn't know what to do and so tried calling the woman who was supposed to be my contact for anything fostering related, but she would only text and sent me to voice mail when I called her.
I was tired, stressed and frustrated and knew that wasn't a good combination for any of the dogs, never mind the humans. I needed help and I wasn't getting any. So, I called the woman who had dropped Flick off in the first place and talked to her. She gave a few suggestions for getting the girls used to one another and just said to give it some time. I began to realise that I was not equipped to give Flick what she needed.
I spent the rest of the day attempting to help Flick to settle in and show our dogs that she meant them no harm. Mr. K was still not convinced and when Flick lunged at Hermione that was the last straw for him. Not being able to see, I wasn't sure if the lunge was a "let's play" or a "I'm going to eat you" lunge. Mr. K had been holding on to the leash at the time and I was sitting on the floor playing with Hermione. When we received a phone call from another person-apparently she was in charge of transport, but I didn't find that out until the next day-I told her what was going on. She suggested she come over and see if she couldn't help the two settle in together, but I think Mr. K was at his wit's end. I was feeling very stressed as well.
There aren't many things I will openly admit I cannot do as a blind person, but fostering dogs with potentially high and unpredictable prey drive, may be one of them. I felt on edge, waiting for Flick to go after Hermione, or even Otis, again. I thought I could do it, but I couldn't. I love Greyhounds and think they are gorgeous and loving creatures, in fact I had quickly fallen in love with Flick, but I think our household is not set up to accommodate the needs of a   raw Greyhound. That admission does not come easily for me, but there it is.
When the third person called us back, I said we'd keep Flick over night, but that she needed to have a new home the next day. It was one of the hardest conversations I've had. It wasn't Flick's fault. She actually was a really great house guest: she was perfectly house trained, which was a relief.
That night was a long and trying one. We were awakened by one dog or another almost every hour. Roscoe was the only one  who slept soundly I think. At five AM I finally took the two girls out into the living room in order to let Mr. K get some uninterrupted sleep. I sat on the couch, snuggling both dogs and thought that maybe we could do this, but then when Hermione tried to give Flick kisses and Flick growled at her, I went back the other way again. What finally made me feel as though I had made the right decision for everyone was when Flick actually lunged/growled/barked at Hermione when Hermione was just standing on the floor looking up at Flick who was laying on the couch. If I hadn't had the leash taut, Flick may have injured Hermione.
With all of that in mind, I think Flick is a great dog. When she went after Hermione, her self correction made her realise that she had done something bad. She instantly flipped over and started whacking me with her paws as if to say,"Oh no! I got carried away!" She was perfectly house trained, took treats gently, walked nicely on the leash and was a huge cuddle bug. She also had the benefit of being absolutely gorgeous. Flick was a brindle Greyhound, with her markings being larger so that she actually was marked like a tiger. Her coat was actually quite healthy and shiny. She did have a shoulder injury, from what I could tell, but I think that would heal in time. I have absolutely no doubts that she will get adopted very quickly.
Mr. K and I had a chat after she left and we both agreed that if we had been in a different situation-bigger flat, Hermione not healing from surgery, Otis being full grown or at least house trained-we would have kept her as a pet. Instead of wearing the "I failed as a fosterer because I had to give my dog back in 24 hours" t-shirt, we'd be wearing the "I failed as a fosterer because my foster dog is now living permanently in my home" t-shirt.
So what have I learned from this?
I've learned that it is okay to say no and that sometimes it could possibly solve a lot of heart break in the long run. I've learned, that despite what I think, I cannot possibly do everything or save everyone. Fostering may be something we will only be able to do  a long ways into the future when we really don't have any pet dogs, or at least not new puppies. Or, perhaps, fostering is not something I will ever be able to do due to my life's circumstances, but that there are other ways for me to help.
Despite all of this, I have no hard feelings towards the rescue. I think I just talked to too many people who probably assumed the person before them had given me the "welcome to the fostering Greyhounds  club" speech. A lot of what went wrong was also my fault and i take full responsibility for that. They are holding an online auction in the upcoming month and I've offered to make a hand tied fleece blanket and a Halloween themed doggie goodie basket. I know I can handle that at least.
Where do I go from here?
Up. LOL
Hermione is going to be a year in a few months and I am thinking I may enter her into some beginner agility classes. She is crazy good at jumping/running/turning/going through/over things and actually enjoys it. So, I'm going to work with her on her basic obedience in order to get it a bit more reliable and then see in January if we can't get involved in some sort of agility club.

Just Say No!

Somewhere between finding Otis on Friday and going to pick him up on Sunday, the Greyhound rescue phoned me to say that they had found a Hound. Apparently Flick had done well with her introduction to small, bouncy dogs and the rescue thought she'd be great in our home. I panicked. I didn't know what to say.
Here Mr. K and I were off to buy new things for a new puppy and the rescue was telling me that we could be foster parents. Actually, we were buying new things for Hermione and new puppy would inherit her old things until he outgrew the teething stage, but that is neither here nor there. I was so torn.
I have wanted to foster for so long and just have never done it because I was afraid of how my guide dogs would have reacted. Foster dogs would take attention away from a working dog and I did not want to adversely effect my working relationship with either of my now retired dogs. Yet, we were bringing home a new little dude and Hermione and Hamish were going in on Tuesday to be spayed and neutered. All of that on top of a foster dog would be lot. Not to mention, all of my class work that I needed to get done.
I had the brains to ask the woman if I could call her back, but all brains flew out of my head once I hung up the phone and excitedly told Mr. K about Flick. We were literally walking to the pet store and so I think we both weren't thinking straight or really paying attention. He knew how excited I was about this whole fostering thing and so he said that if I wanted to do it that I could say yes.
And so, I said yes.
The next couple of days passed in a blur. Sunday we were traveling all day, meeting and picking up Otis. Monday was spent settling in and also going to class and Tuesday started early with Hermione and Hamish going to the vet for 8.30 AM. My day continued on from there with a quick breakfast and then I hopped the bus to make a meeting dedicated to accessibility issues on campus and within my courses, which, by the way, went very well. The head of my program is amazing, but that is a whole other story. Two hours later it was time for a quick lunch, two hours of class, break and then two more hours of class. By the time I got back home, I was absolutely exhausted and ready to sink on to the couch with a cup of tea and  cuddle my poor  baby girl.
The problem was, somewhere in all of that, I took two phone calls from Mr. K and returned another to the Greyhound rescue, confirming that dropping Flick off the next day was fine. The phone calls weren't the problem, agreeing to take on a "raw" dog from a kennel the day after having a crazy day and only 24 hours after Hermione was spayed was the problem. I was so excited to meet Flick and so frazzled from the overload of information that I had gotten that day, that all sense flew out of my head...again.
"Drop her off between 1 and 2? Of course. That is perfect."
And so began my demise as a foster parent.

Complete Chaos

I know I promised an update only the next day after I announced Flick's arrival, but life has just been a complete whirlwind since my last post. With university reading/assignments, classes, accessibility meetings and so much more, I've hardly had time to do every day things like get my laundry done. So, what has been going on? Perhaps I should write this week's goings on in installments. Otherwise, you would have to hunker down with at least a pot of coffee and maybe a whole day's worth of sandwiches.
Where do I start? Let's begin even before we knew Flick was coming to live with us.
Probably about two weeks ago now, maybe even more, Mr. K and I met a little French Bulldog named Stanley. He was the coolest little guy with a great personality and he loved Mr. K and  Mr. K was smitten, but upon researching breeders, we quickly realised that French Bulldogs were very much out of our price range. So, that was that...or so we thought.
After not hearing from the rescue that had originally said that they may have a Hound for us, I began to think that we were out of luck with regards to fostering Greyhounds. I could completely understand where they were coming from, knowing that Greyhounds are sight hounds and most would certainly feel the need to chase Hermione. Last Friday I was browsing the internet, as I do, and came across a French Bulldog breeder that I hadn't seen in my prior searches. I liked the name of her "kennel" and so examined her website. Again, Mr. K and I were smitten, but were quite aware that we could never afford one. Okay, perhaps "never" is a strong word, but it would be something we'd have to save up for for a while. I told Mr. K that she had two puppies available and he told me to call her. I didn't want to, knowing that we'd have to save for a pup. I didn't want to call, ask how much her puppies were and then say "thank you very much" and hang up. I felt awkward.
It was at that moment that Hermione decided she needed to go out. So, I took her out and while I was gone, Mr. K called the breeder. He still doesn't know why. He just did and asked her about the male that she had available.
When I came in I could hear him talking to someone on the phone and quickly realised, by what he was saying, that he had contacted the breeder. She and Mr. K had a long chat and he finished the conversation with,
"let me talk to my wife and we'll get back to you tonight."
I was stunned.
Talk about what?! We couldn't afford one of her puppies, I was sure of it.
It turns out though, that we could afford this little guy.
French Kisses Mr. Sky Blue, his KC registered name, has a low grade heart murmur. Because of this, the breeder wasn't selling him. She was going to either keep him, or "give him to a five star home." She invited us to her home to meet Mr. Sky Blue, his parents and grandparents and also to get to know us. She basically said that if we all got along that we could take Mr. Sky Blue home with us.
Again, I was stunned.
So, the short of it is that Mr. K and I  hopped on a train this past Sunday to meet the breeder, her family and all of her dogs. We met Mr. Sky Blue and immediately fell in love with the smushed, wrinkled face and his snuffing. We met his parents and his grandma and were impressed by the dogs. We were also amazed at how professional, friendly and knowledgeable Mr. Sky Blue's breeder was. Apparently she liked us too because she said that we could take the puppy home.
It was with great excitement that we boarded the train with our new little bundle of joy. The breeder provided us with everything we could ever want, including collar/leash set, great amounts of food, bowl, blanket, a toy, chews, his paperwork and much more. Mr. Sky Blue even came microchipped and with both sets of vaccinations. She is truly incredible and I would recommend her to anyone who is interested in French Bulldogs. She also breeds another dog and those were also beautiful dogs.
When we arrived at home, we introduced Hermione and Roscoe to the new addition down on the cycle path, where everyone could run about and get their sniffing in. It was love at first sight for Mr. Sky Blue when he met Hermione and the two have been best friends for the past week. They play together and even curl up with one another for naps. I was a bit worried about Hermione since she is the Queen "B with an itch " around here, but she took to him without any issues.
Mr. K and I had both agreed on "no more puppies," but somehow this little guy found his way into our lives.
So what did we call the little dude?
We threw around a few names, but Otis seems to be the winner. His breeder really liked that one for him and so it has stuck.
Honestly, I don't regret a thing; at least, not with him.
Stay tuned for the next installment of "Jess's life gone mad because she doesn't know how to say no."

Welcome Flick

We got the news today that our first foster Greyhound will be coming to live with us by the week's end. If you haven't already guessed by the title of this post, her name is Flick. She is a young, small, Brindle girl who had previously lived in her trainer's home. So, she should be house trained. Most X-racers never get home comforts or even see the inside of homes. So, the fact that she lived in home is slightly amazing and a bonus for us with regards to house training.
Apparently, she's sweet, bouncy and loving. They don't know much more about her because, as the foster co-ordinator said on the phone, it's up to the fosterers to tell them more about the dog  in order to get the Hounds re-homed.
Flick was small dog tested earlier this week and was non-reactive to three or four small, bouncing dogs. She did react to cats though, so I either have to stay away from them completely or try to teach her that cats are friends, not food. I don't know anyone with cats and I'm not sure strangers will allow me to use their cats as training tools. So, Flick may stay a "non-cat" kind of girl. However, I do know a few flats that have cats hanging around outside . That means, Flick and I may be going for a walk past those flats, muzzle on and a pocket full of cookies.
To be honest, I had thought that we basically weren't going to be able to foster because of Hermione being classified as a "small fuzzy" and the nature of Greyhounds to chase "small fuzzies," but the sanctuary really worked hard to find us a dog to foster. I really want to give this little girl a good chance of finding her forever home. So, I am going to do everything I can to help her learn all about the world of being a pet as opposed to a racing, working dog. With all of our crazy adventures in our life/home, I am hoping to be able to teach her to be a well rounded girl who will fit into nearly any good home.
Since that is all the sanctuary was able to tell me about Flick, I'll leave it at that for now, but will definitely fill you in once she has arrived. I have other exciting news, but I'll tell you about him tomorrow. ;)

Back to School

Yesterday was my first day back at school in just over two years. My MSc Performance Psychology course will run from September 2012 until August 2013 when I turn in my dissertation.  It was such a weird feeling to pack up my laptop bag and head off. Settling down into the little squishy desks was a familiar feeling and sitting through two hour lectures was also very familiar. Despite the cramped, uncomfortable desks,  I love it.
Monday night's class is Understanding Research Methods, another familiar thing. This will be the fifth research course I've taken over my university/college career, but I am thinking it will be a welcome refresher.
Today was a bit of a longer day with two classes, each running two hours with a two hour break in between. This means I leave the flat at 1 and don't get back until closer to nine, but again, both classes are interesting and I am really enjoying the content so far.
My only issue has been navigating the campus. Tenie had run me through the various buildings once when the head of the program gave us a tour, but I think I probably should have gone a few more times. Thankfully, Mr. K has been amazing, and since he still has the only  working guide dog, in our family he accompanied me these past two days and helped me find where I needed to go. "Two heads are better than one." I know today was a long day for him as he had to sit and wait through the two classes. I can't fully  express how much I appreciate his help. We really are in this together.
As for the work load, there seems to be quite a bit of reading, so I think Hermione and I will be spending a few hours a day holed up in the local cafe, drinking coffee and reading. Hermione will be sitting in the front window people watching. My instructor tonight suggested that we should be spending about nine hours a week on each class. To be honest, I'm not sure if he's going to get that many out of me, but I'll give it my best shot. That is a lot of time as a sighted person, imagine trying to do all of that listening to a screen reader yammering on at you. Completing course work takes at least half as long for a blind student as it does for a sighted student. Nine hours a class could very easily turn into closer to eighteen. I know the blind folk going to law school would probably mock my aversion to 27, or in blind time 60ish, hours a week of class work, but that is why I'm not in law school. That, and I'd be a horrible lawyer.
 I have one paper due in my Performance Planning class in twelve weeks that is 4000 words and another 1000 word paper for the Stress, Anxiety and Coping class. Plus, other various assignments and another larger paper. It's really not that bad and since it's a subject I enjoy, I think it will be easy to get it all done.
So, with a fairly long day behind me and a lot of reading/writing to do tomorrow, I think I shall "hit the hay," as they say.
Good night, all.
PS: We got another update with regards to our potential foster pup today. We were told her name, but I will keep that a surprise just in case she gets to move in with us.  She is a small female who is still in kennels and she is being small dog tested this week. If she is classified as "trainable" she will be moving in and I am so excited. So, keep your fingers crossed that F**** will come to be our first foster hound. Any guesses as to what her name may be?

A Visiter

Thursday turned out to be a   really nice day, here in the capital of Scotland. I was a bit skeptical in the morning as it was quite chilly and the wind was blowing quite hard, but thankfully, the sun decided to make an appearance and it didn't start raining until our visiter had gone home.
When I heard a knock on my door just past ten AM Thursday morning, I happily ran to it and flung it wide.
"A boy!" I said excitedly as I squatted to put my arms around a very big, Yellow Fellow.
"And a girl!" I said just as excitedly as I hugged L.
If you haven't already guessed, L had brought Glacier to visit for the day. The best part was that in greeting, Glacier ran down the hallway picked up a toy and began prancing about with it; typical Glacier. When I released Roscoe from the living room, the two dogs went crazy, hopping around and trying to frolic in a very small space. Hermione was excited too, but I think it's just because everyone else was excited. I think she remembers Glacier, but she has always been more strongly bonded to Roscoe.
Realising that the dogs definitely were not going to calm down any time soon, L and I took all three across to the cycling path and released the two big boys. Glacier and Roscoe made quick business of "doing their business" and then took off like shots, running along together like they always did. It was so good to see both dogs enjoying being together and also seeing Glacier react to L when she called him back or asked him to sit. He really seems to have bonded to L and her boyfriend and that makes me so very happy.
Hermione wasn't left out of the mix either. Eventually, I decided to let her off leash and see how she did. She impressed me. I had put her cat collar on with the bell, the one that allows me to know where she is and what she's doing, and off she went. She stuck pretty close to L and I, only venturing out if she followed Roscoe. She even was quite good at stopping on the grassy shoulder with L and I to allow cyclists to go by. I don't think I'd free run her by myself because she is so small and it is difficult to know what she may or may not be getting into, but it is good to know that Hermione can free run if there is a set of working eyeballs around.
Back at the flat, with hanging tongues and muddy paws, everyone was toweled off and all three dogs took a nap. Glacier curled up on my feet just like he used to and it felt nice to have him there again. At first it made me a bit worried, but when we decided to go get some lunch for the humans, Glacier was quick to look for L to see what he should do. We took the dogs with us to the dog friendly cafe down the street and both of the big boys passed out immediately. Hermione had a pee accident, which was completely embarrassing, but I guess that is what I get for letting her drink her fill a short period of time before going into a public space. We won't do that again; totally my fault. Thankfully, the cafe staff weren't angry and just simply said,
"it happens and who could really get mad at that cute face?"
Hermione was good about letting us know she had to go again and I got her out in time and set her down, where she promptly "insta peed," as we call it. All of this time, Glacier slept curled up in a ball right beside L's chair. He even got up to watch for her when she got up to go use the bathroom. Part of me was sad that he didn't look for me that way anymore, but a larger part of me was so grateful that he had bonded with them so well and was a thriving, happy boy.
We spent the rest of the afternoon just chatting and had one more shorter off leash run after the dogs had their supper. Again, Hermione went along off leash and although she was a bit more adventurous, she still came back when I called her. Glacier and Roscoe were the tag team of the cycling path, greeting every person and dog that went by, backing each other up like old times.
It was a very worn out Glacier that accompanied L out to the bus stop at the end of the day. Roscoe and Hermione were equally as tired and slept for the rest of the evening. As I always say,
"a tired dog is a good dog."
This was the first time I had seen Glacier in a month. He's been in the area a few other times, but I opted not to see him in order to ensure his bond with his new people was forming. I thought that enough time had passed, and L and her boyfriend had done enough with him, that it would be okay for us to see each other. I had also left it up to them to bring him by when they felt he was ready. Judging by his reaction to me, Roscoe and then to L, despite us being here, I would say he was ready.
Roscoe was a bit out of sorts the next day. I think he was a bit confused as to why Glacier only stayed for a short time, but after a good working session with Mr. K he seems to be back to his regular self.
Hermione didn't seem any different, but again, I think that is because she was always more of Roscoe's little sister than anything.
As for Mr. G: he is a big, healthy boy who hasn't gained any weight. His coat is healthy and he is definitely happy. L tells me stories all of the time about the things they have all done together and I don't think Glacier could have gone to a better home. Just this week, Glacier's been to the beach at least four times, digging in a dirt pile at an archaeological dig, to visit us and, of course, to the pub multiple times. It was so good to see him  and strangely enough, the visit didn't make me miss him more. In fact, it did the opposite: seeing him so happy and responsive to L, who isn't even his primary caregiver, relieved a lot of stress for me. It reassured me that by re-homing Glacier, I did what was best for him, and at the end of the day, that is what is important for a dog who has given so much of themselves to a working partnership.

Guide Dog Replacement Update

It has just been over one month since I retired Glacier and it is finally today that I've been put on the waiting list. Originally, I had been under the impression that I was put on the waiting list to get a new guide dog as soon as Glacier retired, but I was quite wrong. So, the three months to a year of waiting starts today. As I am sure you are all aware, this does not make me very happy. However, a guide dog trainer-the one we've been dealing with since we moved here-assessed me today and although I do not feel much better about the very long wait, I am feeling much better about the process.
The application process for this particular guide dog school is much different than that of Leader Dogs for the Blind, the school where I got both of my previous guide dogs. I think, in a way, each program has its pros and cons, but that in the long run, I will benefit greatly from the Guide Dog Organisation's approach. Sure, I have to wait much longer, but the success of the match is much higher.
When I applied for my previous guides, I did not spend any time with the trainers before hand. The interview process wasn't very vigorous either; with me just having to have a videotaped walk to get Jetta and not even having to do that to get Glacier. All the trainers had to go on was the answers I had filled out on an  application that didn't even address lifestyle, what sort of worker I needed Etc.
My assessment today was much more in-depth and that made me feel more confident in getting a good match. Also, having been involved with the trainer for a year instills confidence.
We chatted for almost two hours about my lifestyle, what characteristics I'd like in a dog, if I preferred girl/boy or breed of dog and many other important things that I think will make this matching process so much better.
We did an empty harness walk, which is similar to the "Juno" walk you do the second day you arrive at LDB. This walk is used to determine voice inflection and walking speed. This particular walk was also used to determine my ability to follow directional changes, posture, stride and my preference for how strongly the dog pulls on the harness.
We covered some other important aspects of a working dog suited to me, such as, willingness to work, adaptability and a few other characteristics. We discussed the various environments I would be taking my dog into and whether or not I ever left my dog at home. We even talked about what sorts of transportation I would take on a regular basis. Again, it all made me feel excited and confident about deciding to go with the UK organisation instead of flying back to North America.
The trainer reiterated that he couldn't guarantee a time frame, but that he'd rather me go two months more without a dog, struggling to get around, than get a dog quickly and spend the next four to eight years struggling with my working relationship. I've already been there done that. I do not want to do that again. I had to agree with him. He also said that he wanted to give me a dog that was brilliant when I got him/her, but was that much better at our six month check-up because I worked with the dog. I took this as a compliment and ensured him that he wouldn't be disappointed.
So now that all of the paperwork is done, all I can do is start my waiting game over again; a game I thought I had started a month ago. Sometimes there are necessary evils in life and waiting for the right working partner is just one of those. It stinks being reliant on others because my cane skills are so terrible, but once I meet and am matched with my new dog, it will be all worth it.

A Little Favor?

Hello to all of the dogs and cats out there who somehow manage to get their paws on their humans' plastic moneys.
I am here to ask you afavor...
I have been, and it's been for a while, thinking about opening an online store with all kinds of great things for you...the dogs and cats. There are a  few human things too, but mostly for the important beings in the household. I have recently discovered a retailer that has some really cool stuff and was wondering if, you have some time, could you  go internet browsing on the site and look at all of the fantastic things for sale?
Then, I would appreciate it if you could email me at:
glaciers DOT goodies AT gmail DOT com
and let me know what a few of your favourite things are. I.E., things that you would buy on a regular basis. And then, in a different list, the things that you absolutely love, but would buy as a very special treat to yourself. I  also want to know about a few products that you would absolutely not buy and why.
Ssshhhhh...don't tell the humans. They may get protective of their plastic moneys.
Anyway, thanks in advanced for your help.
Happy browsing.

The shop can be found
here.

Can't Contain Myself

Two posts in one day! Should you be so lucky?
Because I know you are all sitting at home waiting in eager  anticipation for the next literary masterpiece that I shall bestow upon ye.
Okay, anyway...enough of my smart a**ness.
I wasn't going to write about this until tomorrow because it's not happening until later today. Also because then I'd have more details for you, but I am so excited that I can hardly contain myself.
Later this afternoon, Mr. K and I are getting a home visit from the Greyhound rescue we've been in contact with. They are coming in to get to know us and to see if we'd be an appropriate foster home. Other than that, I have no other details. Do you see why I should have waited? There's not much to tell you. Although the person checking on us did say,
"I'm not coming over to see if you dust or Hoover. I'm just coming to get to know you.
*Vocabulary Note: for North Americans, "hoovering" refers to "vaccumming" here*."
At least the woman has a sense of humour. Actually, everyone I've been in contact with have ben super friendly and quite funny. I really hope we get approved because I think this rescue would be a good fit for us and vise versa.
I have had a few people give me some logical and sound advice on perhaps holding off on the fostering, such as, getting Hermione into a reliable state before my new working dog comes home and that I am starting university in the fall, but Mr. K and I talked about it and think now is a good time.
Well, maybe we've convinced ourselves it's a good time. Or more accurately, I've convinced myself it's a good time. We're both incredibly excited-if you can't tell-and I think this will be a great experience for us.
Now, all we have to do is wait for our home visit and hope that we are what good fosterers are made out of.

Going grey

No, not me. Just because my 29th birthday was a few weeks ago does not mean that I'm the one "going grey." Nor is Mr. K, or at least, I don't think he is. I am blind after all. He could have a full head of grey hair by now and I would never know. I wouldn't be surprised if he did, having to put up with me and my constantly buzzing about like a busy bumble bee.
 Roscoe has a few grey furs, but who wouldn't living with us, and Hermione is way too young to be "going grey." So what in the world am I talking about?
Can you guess?
I'll give you a minute...
Do you know?
Well, I'll tell you:
Mr. K and I have decided to open our home to X-racing Greyhounds. We are going to become foster parents. Well, as long as we pass the home check and all the jazz, we'll become foster parents.
I'm so excited.
I'm not entirely sure how all of this happened. It was all sort of quite quickly. I had contacted a Greyhound rescue based in Scotland a while back to ask if they needed volunteers; it was about the same time I had gone out to visit that Greyhound rescue. The one that had left a lot to be desired. Anyway, I hadn't heard anything and then just a few days ago I received a call asking me if we'd be interested in fostering. I guess they really need foster homes and I told Mr. K that the volunteering they really needed was foster parents. I figured he'd be opposed. He really does humour me with all of my crazy   dog stuff and with Glacier having just left, I thought he was good with just Roscoe and Hermione. He surprised me when he said he'd be okay with fostering. We had a short chat about how it was a good time since I don't have a guide dog and who knows when I'll actually get one. Fostering has always ben something I've wanted to do, but haven't because I was worried it would negatively impact my working relationship with my current guide dog. Without that relationship to worry about, I can be free to foster.
Another perk to fostering is that we can see how Hermione does with new dogs in her home. Eventually, I will get a working dog and it may be good for her to have other doggie companions between now and then. She'll have to share me with a guide dog, and although she did that with Glacier, since he's been gone, she's been the object of my attention even more. It may be shocking for her in six months to suddenly not have me all to herself any longer.
So, if all goes well, we shall have "the world's fastest couch potato" moving in at some point. I am really looking forward to being able to give my time and effort to a cause that I feel strongly about: re-homing dogs...especially X-racers. I won't go into all of the politics of racing and the treatment of some dogs and all of the unhappy stuff about racing because, really, the important part is that if we are able to foster we are improving the lives of these great creatures one dog at a time. And that, is amazing. Just think, by opening your home to a rescue dog you can make a difference.
I've always felt like I've had to sit on the sidelines with regards to rescue. I've tried countless times to volunteer with organisations and for one reason or another, it's never worked out. Providing safety for dogs is something I get all fired up about and until now, I haven't really been able to get involved. I thought in order to actually rescue dogs, I'd have to open my own rescue organisation and that seemed like a far fetched idea. However, that is no longer the case and I am so excited about finally giving a dog a second chance. I won't go so far as to say that I'm rescuing them from horrible life or death situations, but it's a second chance in that they will be better prepared for home life with a family and thus more adoptable. Again, to me, that is just so incredible. I am also very excited to work with this particular rescue as they seem very open, considerate and definitely have the dogs' best interest at heart.
So, fingers  crossed that we "go grey" sooner rather  than later.

Health Checks

Yesterday was Roscoe's six month check-up. When we signed on with the Guide Dog Organisation, one of the requirements was that all of the working dogs were examined by a vet every six months. Since the organisation is fronting the bill, I don't really mind. Plus, I actually think it's a good preventative measure; a way to catch a problem before it gets out of control.
We have just switched vets since our move and yesterday was our first exposure to the new practice. Mr. K and I were both impressed by the vet's personal skills and his "bed side" manner. Since moving to the UK we have both found that most of the vets we have been in contact with have sort of had a "car salesman" kind of feel to them. The last vet we were with always wanted to give Hermione vaccines and procedures that we deemed unnecessary. For example, they wanted to give Hermione the Kennel Cough vaccination when there is a very low chance of her contracting Kennel Cough. Not to mention, based on her reaction to vaccines, I want to avoid putting foreign things into her little system as much as possible. She was also only twelve weeks at the time and had just had her last set of vaccinations. Adding another foreign body that she would have to fight off seemed a bit much. Despite my protests, they kept trying to force me into booking an appointment for the vaccine. As I would try to leave, various members of the staff  would ask me when I was coming back in for Kennel Cough. They also attempted to convince me to have it done right then.  They even phoned to ask when we were coming in for Kennel Cough. I felt cornered and it really put a sour taste in my mouth with regards to that particular vet practice.
 They were also very pushy about microchipping her. I think microchips are a great idea, and we plan on getting her one, but it is my personal belief, from research I have done and understanding puppy growth, that it is better to wait until the puppy stops growing before inserting the microchip. I just feel more comfortable inserting something into her muscles once they have stopped developing. Again, just my personal feelings.
They also were very pushy about us bringing her in for her six month check-up and a whole bunch of other appointments that they tried to convince us she needed. I think perhaps it was their approach more than anything. Other vets we contacted when we were planning on moving, gave the same impression of trying to sell us something. So, it was a relief when we found this new practice.
We made it to our appointment on time and did not have to wait to be seen. The vet checked Roscoe over; ears, eyes, teeth, heart Etc. He told us that he was very impressed with Roscoe's condition and was surprised to find that Roscoe was five and a half. He basically told us that Roscoe is perfect and he said with regards to diet, "don't stop what you're doing." It's always nice to get that kind of confirmation when you work so hard to ensure your dog is getting what he needs to be healthy.
I guess my once a week grooming schedule, purchasing of quality food and making home made treats (and monitoring treat intake of course), has really paid off. Both the vet and vet nurse thought Roscoe was a very handsome boy, which as Mr. K pointed out, we had nothing to do with, but that is still nice to hear.
As for Her Royal Highness, Princess Hermione Sophia: he took some time to look in her mouth even though the appointment wasn't for her. Mr. K and I had become concerned that her puppy canine teeth had not fallen out when her adult ones came in and the vet confirmed that that was certainly the case. He said it's not worth knocking her out just to remove the teeth, but when she is spayed, they will take the puppy teeth out then. We had a frank conversation about spaying Hermione and he said that it was their practice to usually spay the females after they had had one season, but that if it was going to be an annoyance for us that he would do it whenever we wanted. Again, I liked that he presented the facts and let us decide. Whereas, our previous vet told us that things had to be done a certain way even if we knew differently.
The vet explained that there is some anecdotal "proof" that spaying a a female dog after her first season cuts down on the possibility of her becoming incontinent. He emphasized "anecdotal" and did not try to push us either way.
I think we will try to have her spayed before then because it will be extremely inconvenient for us to have a dog in heat.
As for when we have the surgery done: we walk her down to the vet's office close to us, the vet drives her to their downtown location and then returns her at the end of the day, whereupon, we pick her up. No fussing with the bus system, no trying to get her to her appointment many miles away. Our previous vet had a downtown location as well where Hermione had to go for her little emergency, but we had to figure out how to get her there and how to retrieve her in the morning. With this vet practice, all of that stress-and it is quite stressful when you can't see-is eliminated. He also said to bring Hamish along on that day and he will go in for neutering at the same time. Again, very convenient for everyone involved.
Our new vet seems to be just what we're looking for: the perfect fit. And, in the grand scheme of things, isn't that the important thing? Perhaps the "car salesman" feel of the other places was all perception, but at the end of the day, I am the paying customer and I want to feel comfortable with the service I am receiving. I don't want to feel like someone is trying to sell me unwanted or unnecessary products and it is important that I feel that   my animal's best interest is what is actually their primary concern.

My Good Deed of the Day Gone Stinky

This morning I woke up much earlier than the rest of the people in my flat. I say "people" because Tenie had come over for dinner last night and some massage therapy and didn't feel like walking home. So, she stayed the night. Hermione seemed anxious to be up this morning, so I got up fed her and Roscoe and decided to take them for a walk along the cycling path. I took Mr. K's cane since mine still has not arrived, and headed out with the thought that I'd let Roscoe run leash free. That way, I could use the cane, keep Hermione under control and Roscoe could still come along; tiring him out for Mr. K.
It wasn't particularly early-around 10-but I figured the paths would be empty since most people would be at work during this time and the kids are going back to school tomorrow. I've walked this path probably close to a hundred times now and it's not all that busy during the mid morning. I don't worry about Roscoe off leash as he's quite friendly, well socialised and knows to stay out of the path of cyclists, but his over enthusiastic greetings seem to be a bit much for the majority of the UK population. It's something that I've noticed before and still can't figure out: dogs here-and I am generalising-are not expected to greet people while they walk by or to play with other off leash dogs.
Personally, I think it's impressive that people can walk down a path and their dog, for the most part, ignore the other dogs on the path. The trend in North America seems to be that dogs meet and greet others around them and then carry on their merry way. Not so much here.
The first part of our walk went pretty well. Roscoe greeted a few other dogs, but usually stuck near me. I think he felt responsible for me even though he wasn't working. He's not my guide dog, but he takes himself very seriously and he shows signs of concern for my safety as well as Mr. K's. There would be times when Glacier and I would fall behind, or get cut off from Mr. K and Roscoe due to crowds, and Roscoe always stopped and waited for us without Mr. K even needing to say anything. So, I think this sense of responsibility may have been at play during our walk this morning.
He found a few dogs to say hello to whose owners didn't seem to mind and he stopped to greet a family with a small child. He is a larger Labrador, but incredibly gentle and the parents took the time to help the child pet Roscoe in order to demonstrate that big dogs are ice.
As we carried on, I was beginning to become concerned at the amount of people on the path. I thought about leashing him, but we were at least a half an hour's walk from the flat and fighting with cane, Hermione and Roscoe just wasn't something I was excited about. We continued on a bit further, Roscoe running ahead and always returning to see where I was; Hermione hopping along on her leash. We came across a man with another Black Lab who seemed a bit put off that Roscoe wanted to play with his dog. He explained that his dog had been attacked on the weekend by a Pitbull and that his ear was very injured. I called Roscoe back to me and had him sit, waiting for the man and his injured but leash free dog to get past us.
I think when out using public spaces such as those, people have a mutual responsibility to be respectful of the other people and/or animals. I didn't mind having Roscoe sit and wait until they had passed, but I think it was the man's attitude that sort of irked me. He acted as though that because his dog was injured, all other dogs should leave him alone despite him running free and engaging the other dogs in play. If Roscoe had some sort of injury I was concerned about, or Hermione for that matter, they would stay on leash to minimize any damage and accidents that could occur. It's not someone else's fault if my dog is injured and I let him/her run free and their dog wants to play with him/her.
Anyway, maybe he felt badly about being sharp because he told me to make sure I stayed on the pavement when walking because there were lamp poles in the grass that he didn't want me to walk in to.
After our little encounter with Mr. Grumpy/Helpful, I started to rethink my overly ambitious good deed of the day. As we moved away, I released Roscoe and he took off like a shot in the direction I was walking. He had been panting pretty hard and I guess I shouldn't have been shocked when I heard a gigantic sploosh from the other side of the path. All I could do was laugh. Here I was, trying to do a nice thing for Mr. K and the one thing he hates the most happens; smelly, wet dog.
I called Roscoe back, but by that point there was nothing I could do. He was soaked from the top of his head right down to his tail. I don't know if he fell in or dove in, but he was dripping wet and so stinky.
Between my walks with Hermione and some of my runs, I have been down that branch of the path numerous times, but I was completely unaware that there was water down there. The worst part wasn't that he went swimming, or wading or whatever he did, the worst part was the smell. The water must be stagnant and so the stench coming off of Roscoe is something else.
After his little dip, I put his leash on and just dealt with the difficulty of using a cane and walking two dogs at once. I put Roscoe's leash around my waist and that seemed to make the whole thing a bit easier. Considering how badly he smelled and how wet he was, I wasn't about to let him go running down the path to greet people and get them soaking wet and stinky. Goes back to that mutual respect thing.
Luckily, Roscoe dries quite quickly and he was practically dry by the time I got home. I toweled him off and laid a towel out for him to lie on. He still stinks something fierce and I haven't quite decided what to do about that. I could either give him a bath, which I really don't want to do. He sheds so much and bathing him in our bath tub would be one giant pain. I've also thought about running over to the Azda nearby and picking up some dog specific anti-bacterial wipes and dry shampoo in the hopes of getting the stink off of his fur; and whatever is causing the smell.
Whatever I decide to do, something needs to happen because my good deed of the day has gone very stinky.