Together: A Novel Of Shared Vision Part 7

Brenden laughed. "Okay. Hop up, Smitty, let's go, boy. Come on. Hop up."

"Remember, name first."

"Smitty, hop up."

The trainer picked up the pace and arrived, stepping up the curb an instant before Brenden did and stopping.

"Brenden, the dogs are trained to put their front feet on the curb to let you know that you're going to be stepping up. After a while, they won't do that-I mean, when you go out into the world. You'll just make the crossing, and the dog will learn to just give you a feel for pause as they step up. That's part of the nuance that we talked about: the seasoning, when the dog begins to read you as much as you read him."

As they walked along the next block, Smitty talked to Brenden about the different kinds of curbs he would encounter.

"Not all curbs are straight. You may remember from the time you were sighted. Sometimes curbs are rounded. Those are much harder to grasp for the student, and you have to trust your dog to line you up squarely to the direction you want to go. Then, there are the wheelchair ramp curbs. Those can be really tricky because the dogs tend to stop early at the top of the ramp rather than taking you all the way to the edge of the curb. There's also what we call flush curbs. You encounter these in a parking garage or an alley, and the break is not really a curb. It's just sort of a s.p.a.ce in the street. The dogs understand these things, but very often masters force the animal over the edge, and sometimes the dogs start to take these kinds of crossings for granted. You'll really have to use your ears and be aware of what you're doing, most particularly listening to traffic. This work takes concentration, Brenden, a lot of concentration, but the rewards are worth every bit of effort you'll put into becoming a good team."

Brenden couldn't help but be touched by Smitty's enthusiasm, and that glimpse of hope that he felt on the way to the guide dog school once again made a fleeting appearance.

"Okay," Smitty went on, "when we get to this curb and I stop, we're going to make a lateral crossing. To do that, I want you to give me the command, 'Smitty, around,' and then step back and allow me to move up to the curb on your left. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I get it, Smitty," Brenden said.

"Okay, here comes the curb."

Brenden stopped perfectly and gave the trainer the command for around, lining up for the north/south crossing. The pair did it very well.

"Nice job, Brenden," Smitty said. "You have potential."

Over the next three hours, the pair worked on walking through the door of a building, finding an elevator, and searching out an empty chair in a crowded restaurant. After the lunch break, Smitty talked about how to correct a dog when the animal makes a mistake.

He did this with a vivid demonstration. He and Brenden came up to a curb, and Smitty stepped right out without pausing, causing Brenden to trip slightly "Drop the harness," he said, "and take the leash in both hands. Now, jerk the choke chain until it tightens as you tell the animal no."

Brenden practiced this three or four times, once using the phrase bad dog along with the word no.

"Don't ever say that," Smitty said. "The dogs are never bad. They are just wrong. You never want to do anything to break the animal's sense of self-worth. It's critical that they feel as good about themselves as you feel about your success as their working partner."

Brenden was surprised at how much there was to learn, and reluctantly he had to admit to himself that he actually enjoyed the experience. He couldn't help but appreciate Smitty's ability, and he found that he really liked the guy's company. Smitty was a teacher, and Brenden always respected those who knew more about things than he did.

In the afternoon the work was repeated, but this time Brenden was introduced to the simulator. This four-wheeled contraption, designed in Denmark, allowed the men to attach the harness to the vehicle, and the trainer walked behind, creating momentum by pushing the odd-looking contraption forward. This was important, because now the student had open s.p.a.ce in front of him without the instructor there as a buffer.

By the end of the second day of cla.s.s, Brenden and Smitty had covered virtually all of San Rafael's downtown area, and even an athlete like Brenden had to admit he did have sore feet. He couldn't believe Jimmy, the old guy. His enthusiasm was catching as he held court during dinner the second evening.

"Okay, everybody," he said, the pa.s.sion obvious in his delivery. "One more day of this Juno c.r.a.p, and we will meet our dogs. Tomorrow night, boys and girls, we get to know man's best friend."

"You mean your only friend, don't ya, Jimmy?" Lorraine never let up on him.

The old man led the laughter. "You're just upset, Lorraine, because we didn't fall in love years ago. Maybe it's not too late."

Brenden heard something whizz through the air-did Lorraine actually throw a roll? Judging from the soft thud and Jimmy's laughter, Lorraine had apparently hit her target.

"I don't think you're blind, Lorraine," Jimmy said. "That's much too fine a shot. Maybe I should have fallen in love with you. That probably would have been the best thing that ever happened to you."

Lorraine sighed. "Oh brother." But there was a smile in her voice, and everyone at the table, including Brenden, could feel it.

After dinner, students were separated out to have one-on-one interviews with their trainers. The cla.s.s of twelve was divided into four groups of three, with four instructors a.s.signed, and as the evening went on, gradually trainers invited students to join them in a quiet room for a one-on-one talk.

Actually, all of the instructors evaluated the students over the course of the first couple of days. But now it was time to try and put the pieces together, allowing trainers to create the people/animal matches that would lead to wonderful life fulfillment for both.

Smitty talked through a few details on Brenden's application.

"Well, Brenden, I see from your application that you're very much an outdoorsman and that you love sports. Did you play many sports in high school and college?"

"Yeah," Brenden said, his face taking on a dark expression. "Yeah, I played everything-quarterback on the football team, captain of the baseball team, point guard on the basketball team.

And then there was skiing and hiking. Most particularly"-he paused-"most particularly, mountain climbing."

Smitty jumped in, understanding. "That's where you got hurt, wasn't it, Brenden?"

"That's how I went blind, you mean," Brenden said. "Okay," Smitty said, "that's how you went blind. So?" "So, everything," Brenden said. "That's how I became"-this time, the words poured out-"that's how I became handicapped, or-what do they like to call it now?-disabled or challenged?"

"But that's not why you're here," Smitty said. "You're here to gain the independence, or maybe I should say the interdependence, that comes when you fall in love and share your life with a friend-a furry one, for sure, but you'll never have a better, more loving pal. And by the way, dogs are the ultimate chick magnet. The women flock to a good-looking dog. You'll never be short on dates. Do you have a girl?"

"I had one," Brenden said quietly. "I don't know anymore." "Well," Smitty put in immediately, "when you bring a pooch home, she's going to love you both. The fastest way to a girl's heart is to hook her up with a Lab, a golden, or a shepherd. Wait and see."

Brenden found himself getting a little fed up with this whole sanctimonious idea that if you had a dog everything would be just peachy-keen.

"Listen," he said, "you make it seem as if the dogs make everything just hunky-dory. I mean, if you have a dog, life is perfect."

"I didn't say that," Smitty said. "Remember when we were working today and you tripped over curbs, and a couple of times I let you thump into bushes, and then there was the door that nearly hit you in the head. There will be a lot of that when you get your dog, because even though we've poured our hearts and souls into these animals, they are as new at this work as you are, and each of you will have to decide to invest in the other. That's what all of this is about, Brenden, a mutual investment in each other."

Both men were quiet.

"I don't know if I want all that," Brenden finally said. "I don't know if I want the responsibility, and I don't know if I really want to try that hard to be good at this."

"Well," Smitty said, not hiding the sarcasm, "what's the alternative? A cane? You already told me you hated the stick. Or just hanging out in your house, letting your mother take care of you?"

"Shut up," Brenden said. "That's not fair. I've only been blind a little while."

Smitty softened. "I know that, Brenden. I really do know that, but I swear, if you give the dog and me a chance, we'll give you the greatest gift in the world."

"What's that?" Brenden asked, leaning forward in his chair, interested in the answer.

"Freedom," Smitty said. "Wonderful, blessed freedom."

Brenden thought about that as he lay in his bed later that night. He thought about how much he really wanted freedom, how much he really wanted to feel alive. Again, there was that faint glimmer of hope, like a b.u.t.terfly flitting around in his stomach. Was the trainer right? Could he love an animal? Was freedom possible?

At about the same time, Smitty also lay awake, thinking his own thoughts. Was this the guy he wanted for Nelson? Had he found the person who could make it happen with the energetic black Lab? It would be risky, he considered. What if Brenden cracked, folding up like a cheap suit at the animal's intensity? What if he went home, beaten, and Nelson was forced to return to the kennel one more time? Could the dog handle defeat? How many times could he think he had found the right master and then experience rejection without being shattered?

Smitty knew that animals have delicate psyches, just as people do, and he understood completely that Nelson had just about come to the end of his capacity for failed experiments. The next two weeks would tell him a lot, and he found himself tossing and turning, unable to sleep as he considered what would happen when the man and the dog began their odyssey tomorrow evening.

chapter thirteen.

Dinner was over, and the moment had arrived. All the students moved into the big common room and sat in chairs spread out with enough s.p.a.ce so that their animals could lie comfortably next to them.

Brenden sensed a change in the atmosphere. People were quietly antic.i.p.ating what was to come. It was much like the feeling he used to get before taking the field for a big football game. Nervous antic.i.p.ation, he decided. People on edge. And what was he feeling? Despite himself there was a sense of-what was it? Antic.i.p.ation? Curiosity? Dread? Hope? He couldn't tell.

He still did not quite believe that he really wanted a dog, but he had to admit that the last two days with this guy, Smitty, had been-well, it had been interesting. He had learned a lot, and he noticed that his senses were much more alive than they had been when he was sighted or in the rehabilitation program. He at least acknowledged to himself that he was willing to experiment, to meet this new animal, to check it out and see what happened.

The sliding door opened at the far end of the room, and he heard the sound of jingling chains and leashes. Spontaneous and enthusiastic applause broke out. The dogs were here, and so was Smitty.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen," he announced. "Your best friends have arrived, or at least I hope so. Remember the basic rule. At this point in your relationship, the dogs know more about the work than you do, so you're going to have to earn their love. Because of the way things operate around here, with most of you coming back for your second, third, or-"

"Fifth dog," Jimmy put in.

Smitty chuckled.

"Or fifth, Jimmy. I know most of you, and so I've got a pretty good idea of the matches we've made. Let's begin. In deference to your age, Jimmy, we'll start with you. Stand up and take two steps forward."

Jimmy's chair squeaked as the old man stepped out. An a.s.sistant came forward with Nan, and as Jimmy's hands stretched out and touched her, tears began to fill his eyes and pour down his face.

"Oh Smitty," he said shakily, "you old son of a gun. You found another golden. Oh my, another golden."

Jimmy was hugging the young dog now, and she licked his face.

"A match made in heaven, Jimmy," Smitty said. "Made in heaven."

Lorraine was next, and she was given one of the new Labradoodles that Smitty said would be great for her to work with on the west side of Manhattan.

Now Smitty stood in front of Brenden. "Well, Brenden, I know it's your first dog, and you're probably pretty nervous, but I want you to know that I think I picked you out a great one."

Smitty was glad that Brenden couldn't see his eyes, because behind them was his pa.s.sionate hope that this young guy might just be right for Nelson.

He went on. "I know we talked about your application and your desire to be active, so we chose an animal that we think can be just as enthusiastic. Let me introduce you to your new black Lab guide dog, Nelson."

Brenden heard the jingling of a collar and the click of nails on the tile floor as someone brought this Nelson across the room. What was he supposed to do? Reach out and pat the animal or stand still? He didn't know, and more than that, he felt embarra.s.sed and somewhat awkward among these people who seemed to be so comfortable in their relationships with new dogs.

"Come on, Brenden," Smitty said, "reach out and pat him. He's right in front of you."

Brenden moved his hand tentatively forward, and his motion seemed to unnerve the young dog. He turned his head and sort of stepped back.

"Come on, Nelson," the woman handler said, encouraging, "meet your new master."

"Maybe we should forget it," Brenden blurted out.

Smitty interrupted. "Maybe you ought to get right down there on your knees, pal, and give him a hug. That's what they want. They want to know you love them."

Smitty didn't miss the way Brenden knelt in front of the dog. Thirty years of working as a trainer told him immediately that this newly blind guy still wasn't sure if he wanted an animal or not, and Smitty noted that he would have to continue to watch closely for all of the danger signs. Smitty hoped he hadn't made another mistake.

Brenden's hands were finally exploring the animal, feeling the contours of a large head, thick neck, broad shoulders, deep chest, short, coa.r.s.e coat, and a tail that now wagged with delight at being petted, even if the touch was tentative.

"All he wants is to work and be loved," Smitty said. "Not too different from any of us, if you think about it. Now Andrea will give you his leash. Just tell him 'down,' and keep him right next to your chair while we give out the other dogs."

Over the next half hour Brenden listened to the overwhelming happiness as the rest of the cla.s.s met their new guide dog companions. What he felt was a mixture of discomfort and fear as he realized how little he knew about working with animals.

Oh sure, he loved Gus. Gus was his friend. But their relationship didn't involve any direct responsibility, one for the other. He had to admit he was scared. Afraid of-what? Failure? He wasn't sure.

He held the leash tightly in both hands and never reached down to pat the animal that lay quietly on the floor next to his chair. Every once in a while the young man touched the dog with his foot just to make sure he hadn't moved, but he simply wasn't comfortable enough to make real physical contact.

He noticed that every time Smitty came by, the dog's tail thumped the floor. That's who he loves, Brenden thought. He loves his trainer. Well, he probably doesn't have to worry. I may not be around long anyway.

Smitty addressed the group again. "Okay everybody, you know the rules. No cheating and trying to work with your animal until we start cla.s.s tomorrow. Just love them and keep them at heel, and don't let them mess with the other dogs. Let's have a nice social hour, and then we'll turn in. There'll be a lot of work tomorrow, so try to catch some real Zs, even though I know you'll probably be up all night checking to make sure that your new friend is real."

Jimmy interrupted again. "Hey, Smitty, is it all right, since I've had four dogs before this girl, if I teach her to go down the hall and find Lorraine's room?"

"Jimmy, you're impossible," Smitty said with a smile in his voice. "Okay Breakfast is at seven. See you in the morning."

Smitty watched Brenden from a distance, understanding the tension the guy felt. I'm going to have to get in this young man's head, he realized, looking at him for probably the tenth time. If I had it to do over again, I don't think I'd give Nelson to this guy. The dog is too good. As of now, I don't know if McCarthy can ever come to appreciate him, but I've been wrong before, so we'll try it. We'll see.

When the social hour was over, Smitty made sure he accompanied Brenden and Nelson to their bedroom. The dog kept pulling on his leash, trying to get to Smitty. Brenden was surprised that the trainer completely ignored the animal.

"Why don't you talk to him?" Brenden asked. "He obviously wants to be with you and not me."

"That's true," Smitty said, "but you're his master now. Other than to correct him and work with you, I have to ignore him."

Brenden still didn't understand. "But isn't that hard?" he asked. "I mean to not pay attention to him?"

"It's the toughest part of what I do"-Smitty sighed-"when I have to give up a friend, but that's part of the job. There is compensation. When I see a team come together, it feels great. I hope that happens to you, McCarthy. Now reach down at the end of the bed. You'll find a tie down link, and I want you to attach Nelson's leash to it. Do you feel it?"

Brenden bent down and found what Smitty was talking about.

"When you go to bed, he may do some crying as long as he thinks I'm still in the building, but don't pay any attention to him. Just tell him no, and if he keeps it up, give him one rea.s.suring pat. No more than that. If you give him too much love, he'll think that crying at night is okay. There's a lot of psychology in this process, Brenden. There's an awful lot to learn."

As the door closed and Smitty left the room, the Lab began to whine. Brenden hated the sound.

"Okay, fur ball, okay," he said, "just shut up, will ya? I probably don't want to be here any more than you do, but for now we're stuck with each other, so let's try to get a little sleep, okay?"

The dog's answer was to whine again, forcing Brenden to climb out of bed and pat him.

"Listen, Nelson," he said in the dark, "you seem like a nice enough fella, and I'm sorry you drew me. Let's just try to get along, all right?"

The animal sniffed the man as if he was trying to decide where Brenden was really coming from. Then he rolled onto his side, exposing his belly, and the man tentatively rubbed it. The dog's sigh said he was resigned to the idea that he would be staying here tonight, and he soon fell asleep. He probably thought his present circ.u.mstance was at least better than the kennel. Brenden climbed back into bed and fell asleep as well.

Brenden didn't need his alarm clock to wake him up the next morning. The big dog licked his foot. Somehow in the night, the man extended it outside the sheets, and his toes were very much in the animal's reach. The dog gave a good morning lick to each one.

Other people were already up. Brenden could hear the sounds of dogs and humans moving up and down the corridor outside his door, and he soon joined them. He was surprised when everybody headed outside before sitting down to breakfast.