Since I learned of my fading eyesight in 2005 I have been blessed with many opportunities that I frankly would not have been open to back when I was on the Treadmill To Death.

This morning's walk was just such an opportunity.

We were walking in an area called the Annex. It's an older neighbourhood, full of wonderful old houses built between the late 1940s and late 1970s. The sodewalks are very well kept - in my Home area, that's saying something! - the foliage is kept cut back, the streets are well-paved and folks have gotten used to our presence as we do our work.

This morning I was hailed by an older gentleman as we strode by. I ended up stopping to chat for a bit - I am in no hurry to be anywhere these days, and it afforeded me the cchance to put Tucker in a "Sit" to give him a lesson in maintianoong work attitude. I'm very glad I did.

The resident, it turns out, is an 88-year-old veteran of World War II (eliciting an immediate "Thank you!" on my part), bought his house in 1968 and worked his way up the ladder at Safeway from apprentice butcher to meat department manager in their Marina District (SF) store. Great to hear stories of how people treated one another "back in the day". He also used to go out with his buddies to do some deep sea fishing. His biggest proze: an almost 300-pound yellowfin tuna caught off the Farallones. Wow! He still operates a modest rod and reel repair business out of his home. He was in the process of taking out some composting waste from his morning meal: a chicken, egg and veggie "scrambler" made from fresh ingredients. Apparently he is quite the cook as well.

I would never meet anyone like this prior to my diagnosis. Tucker is proving to be more than merely a guid to get me from Point A to Point B and back again; because I am open to the idea, he is also becoming a guide towards a better way of thinking, of being and of interacting with the world around me.

Tucker's entry into my life has dovetailed nicely with my participation in a health education class though my HMO called "Managing Your Emotions". Without dredging up the history of Who I am snd How I Got Here, let's just say that 1) Bad Things Happened; 2) These Things were not handled or dealt with properly; 3) This mismanagement led to a lifetime of poor mental health; 4) I chose at one point to Rise Above rather than Wallow Beneath.

Part of making the choice to Rise Above was to acknowledge that I might not have all the answers and to humbly and with open mind accept opportunities to learn more about quieting a now occasionally troubled mind. Tucker was The Key to giving me the confidence to get back out into life. My HMO had offered me The Key to practice good mental exercise, as I practice good physical exercise every time Tucker and I do guide work.

The class is basically a Westernised introduction to Buddhist mindfulness training, melded with a sort of dialectical behavioural training. I accept and love who I am, as I am, but at the same time understand there are things I can change, if I so choose. So I am learning to identify the times when I fall into old thinking, behaving and other destructive patterns, to take the time to separate myself from the trigger that causes the runaway train of emotion to leave the station, and to exist in the now without forgetting where i camr from and how I got here.

Guide work is a lot like mindfulness training. We have to work in the moment, or else one or both of us can get hurt. We have to be aware of ourselves, our surroundings, our orientation to the world around us. Amazing level of concentration required, and before June of this year I would have told you I was incapable of that kind of effort. Yet, here we are and here we be! Taking what I have learned from both huide dog school and my own journey to this point, add a little more training and what we've managed to cook up appears to be a pretty good beginning of a foundation to a life better lived. Certainly, less dramatically lived. Those things that triggered the Runaway Train of Emotion - guess what? - I don't need to put myself in those positions any more. Not avoidance, necessarily. Just knowing not to return to old patterns, physically or otherwise.

There will be stressful times ahead. As I slowly reintegrate myself back into the world, we'll have days like we did last week where we bit off more than we could chew where our competence with crowds was concerned. But even that served as a lesson. I realised fully the extent to which my guide pickes up on my own emotion and reflects it back in t the forms of disobedience, confusion, irritability and poor guide work. Definitely an eye opener, you should pardon the pun.

I have the luxury of having the time to get Tucker trained to me and my area in the propler amount of time, at a speed comfortable to both myself and my four-legged compatriot. I know so many other guide teams do not. I don't envy them their steep learning curve but I sure am glad I am blessed with this window of additional time to train and bond with Tucker before life reboots in earnest.

Just one day in what will be many more to come. I would that they were all like this amazing day. I should like to be the old guy some other guide team approaches and with whom they have a rewarding conversation. :)

Lest you think this journey is all candy hearts and rainbows, the following events of yesterday/this morning will bring the potential or new guide dog handler back down to earth in a hurry. Stop me if you think that you've heard this one before:

We are having some real issues here with distractions, which came to a head yesterday when I perforce had to change up the schedule to attend a health education class at my local medical centre.

I had to be at the BART station by 1515 in order to make it on time to this appointment, so at 1445 I gave Tucker water, fed him ONE cup of food, and took him out to relieve which he did (#1). After the class was over, I took him out to relieve again and again we had a good outcome (#1). When we got back to our home BART station at about 1815, I walked him home along a known route. He seemed to be walking funny, sniffing everywhere, very distracted; I suspected he was trying to defecate in harness. I removed his harness and attempted to get him to relieve, no result. I got him home at a little after 1830 and gave him a handful of kibble. I gave him water at 1900 and relieved him at 2030, again with urination only as result. Ultimately I don’t know if he actually did defecate in harness; I think I would have smelled something.

Last night, as my daughter was heading out to the store and I was heading down to relieve Tucker at 2030, I had put him in a “heel” going down the stairs behind my daughter. He kept pulling ahead and again, despite multiple corrections, he had pulled hard enough to cause himself to cough and clear his throat from the amount of strain the training collar had put on his neck. As we were coming back from relief my daughter had returned home because she had forgotten her purse. Tucker and I rounded the corner and he immediately began to strain against harness, trying to run and play with my daughter. Multiple and increasing levels of correction finally yielded Tucker stopping completely and I told him, “NO”. let him remain in a sit for a minute or two, and attempted to move “forward” again. SAME RESULT. He lunged toward my daughter, tail wagging.

So, to summarise Tucker is becoming a real spaz when other animals are present when I am out and about doing the things I am supposed to be able to do more freely now that I am not using a cane.. When there are animal distractions behind a fence, he speeds up and moves on. Increasingly however, when we encounter other dogs being walked in the open and otherwise under control by their handlers, he is lunging at them to attempt to interact, tail wagging while he is in harness.

Tucker is usually well behaved around my daughter and her boyfriend, the only other two people he is around with any regularity at the moment. The boyfriend’s father had a guide dog, so he understands the rules. Tucker has never, until last night, broken training like this when it comes to trying to interact with my daughter, and NEVER in harness until now.

Multiple and escalating corrections, as I was trained to apply, failed to curb the undesired behaviour. Being me, I had red flags up to the school yesterday and today. I need to know if this behaviour is going to keep manifesting itself every time we have a change in schedule, and if it is we are going to have problems.

Three steps forward, one back. For my part, I had forgotten that it was rush hour by the time we left the health education class and as such BART was distracting and stressful on both of us. A day later, I am still quite agitated and upset over the level of stress we both experienced. I suspect this whole episode was sparked as soon as we got on the BART shuttle at the medical centre. However I think the seeds for this episode were planted by thing or things I have neglected that adversely impact Tucker's current state of training.

We are advised constantly to "go back to basics" when we hit a bump in the road. I honestly don't know what that means. I am interpreting it to mean back to schedule, back to school protocol, less familiarity with the animal, less 'family dog' treatment and more 'establish the pack order' treatment, all of these esoteric things we learned at the school but struggle to balance.

There is a reason I keep putting people off when they want me (read as: THE DOG) to visit. This dog is not a toy. It's not here for others' amusement. It is here to keep me safe and to be the pair of eyes the rest of you take for granted. Sometimes, even I forget this.

Until I can feel safe navigating with Tucker by myself, in any situation for which he has been trained, until I learn to remember that Tucker is not "just a dog" and slack off on his training, until we are bonded comfortably with one another I can't possibly bring him into all of these busy and potentially stressful situations.

So, if anyone asks again "whenwhenwhen are you (read as: THE DOG) going to come visit?"

Asked and answered, friend.

There are so many little things that go one between me and Tucker every day, each one providing a better sense of peace and happiness. Even those times when Tucker is being less than co-operative, or a doofus, or an airhead, or simply moping because he didn't get what he wanted...? Yeah, those moments are special, too.

I think in some ways we are settling into one another. We have a good pace when we walk. He knows when he's screwed up. He doesn't, nor do I believe he has ever, needed very demonstrative corrections very often. He has required three of the toughest corrections for the most egregious lapse: relieving in harness. Each time he was testing my limits. He has been fully trained, and fortunately my frequent communications with my instructors reminds me of this. If he does something he is not supposed to do, he knows it's a no-no, because he's been trained enough to know it's a no-no. I feel like such a hard-ass sometimes, when I give Tucker an inch and he takes a yard and I have to dial everything back because he's not...yet...ready. But again, Tucker came to me fully trained. It's up to me to do the right thing by him, by us as a team, and by the people that raised and trained him.

And that means occasionally being a hard-ass.

He jumped up tonight when my daughter and boyfriend came home from getting food somewhere. I told him immediately to sit. He wouldn't. I assumed a taller posture and lowered my voice: "SIT." "DOWN." "STAY." And now he mopes, staying down, but nose firmly in the direction of THE GIRL'S room.

To which I must needs say...tough shit, kiddo. :)

Little slips like these are nothing compared to the overall awesome work Tucker has been doing in these four (FOUR?) short weeks since his arrival in my home. We work every day; sometimes a lot, sometimes a bare minimum, always working. Except for Sundays.

Mostly.

If I were to relate every single wonderful thing Tucker has done, either through our work or simply by being his goody self, I would be on-line all day and would never get out to do guide work. As it is, I spend far too much time on-line. Although, far less than I did BT (Before Tucker), to be sure.

So tonight, a generalised post and a warning that posts here will be sporadic. My focus will be on the work Tucker and I do but also on service dog, disability and other related topics. But it's mostly going to be about the T-Dawg.

We are getting used to trains and automobiles...and I can't wait for the prices to come down long enough to ride some planes, too. So many people I want to visit with Tucker by my side...

Chatted with a couple of my fellow grads about doing a cross-country educational/fund-raising tour for the community in general and Guide Dogs of America in particular. I think the idea has legs, but the other participants don't want to drive cross country...they want to ride. As in horses. Interesting. I actually find myself liking the idea. One question though; where does Tucker ride on a horse?? :D

I find that my calendar is pretty full every day since I got home. I am either making phone calls, writing emails, setting up and going to appointments, and of course working with Tucker. I have a full dance card and I wasn't even trying! This is an indication of the freedom and ability to get out there and...BE OUT THERE that Tucker brings to the table. I talk to cane travellers almost every time I go out on a route or take public transit and every time, I get them thinking about "going guide". My enthusiasm must be evident.

I hope I never lose it. I am positive Tucker will help with that...

Today has been a High Energy Day. The Positive flows through this entire building and all who inhabit it.

Today:
- Tucker and I went on two walks totalling 3 miles.
- My next door neighbour, who works at the natural grocery down the street, gave me a bag full of veggies, fruits and other good stuff. Just because.
- I fixed my Home Office area so that Tucker wouldn't get tangled in wires or cables. It meant disconnecting my laptop from the network but I wasn't usingit anyway. Nor was I using the scanner that was merely gathering dust because it wasn't working with my OCR software
- I hugged multiple people today.
- I donated to a great cause. Fandom is Family! http://con-volution.com/2013/
- I played with my Guide Dog. Love is the best reward for hard work there is!

My Home is called the Mystery Spot because there is not a straight or level place in the house. it messes with one's perspective. Quite hilarious! What this place lacks in square corners, however, it more than makes up for in character, location, sunshine, breezes and Positive Energy.

At least for today.

But it's pretty much the norm more often than not. :D

Have a happy weekend!

My happiest moments these days come in the afternoons, after Tucker and I have done our routes, and we just kick it on the floor listening to music. Bonding. :)

I am so grateful for this four-legged guy.

Today, my daughter's boyfriend came over and helped me put new legs on my desk. Turns out that I had the legs way over-extended, and none of the legs were idiot-proofed with tactile or even printed "stop here" markings. So now, instead of about a foot clearance, Tucker now has four inches. Give or take. Hard to tell. My apartment building is nothing approaching level or square. A real Mystery Spot, my apartment is.

I was very grateful for the assist, so I am rewarding all involved in helping me to fix my desk with dinner tonight.

That guy there on the left. Yeah, the human with the cool shades and goofy grin. That's me.

My name is Karl.

But the guy in that picture didn't exist before December of 2005. Well he did, but the difference between November of 2005 and January of 2006 is that, in November, that guy had no idea that he'd spent his entire life slowly losing his vision. He knew something was amiss, but chalked it up to his inherited poor prescription. And adapted. Until he could no longer adapt. Until he was told that his issues with his eyesight weren't going to be fixed with a new set of glasses. He was, in fact, going to lose it all; a combination of weird luck, odd circumstances and a childhood environment that masked the early symptoms allowed him to unconsciously adapt until unconscious adaptation was no longer possible.

Diagnosis led to grief, grief led to loss, loss led to working through what was happening, working through led to acceptance, acceptance led me to...

Well, acceptance led me to the rather stately fellow on the rught hand side of the picture. His name is Tucker and, as you can probably tell, Tucker is no ordinary dog. He is a guide dog, trained by the folks at Guide Dogs Of America in Sylmar, California. But I get a bit ahead of things.

See, for the first 18 months of his life, Tucker was raised by puppy raisers. These are people who voluntarily and without any guarantee their charges will be chosen to continue guide dog training, take puppies in train them in basic obedience, take them everywhere and basically make them a member of their own families.

And then...THEY HAVE TO GIVE THE PUPPIES BACK. Masochists, I tell you!

During those 18 months the puppies are given socialisation, they are trained in basic commands; "Sit", Stay" and the like. Reports are written. Habits are noted. In Tucker's case, stockings were hung. By the faux chimney! (It's Southern California, after all!)

And then - have I mentioned? - they GIVE THE PUPPIES BACK.

So, at 18 months, Tucker finds himself back at the place where he was born - sorry, whelped - and headed for a whole new round of training that is very intense and teaches him the finer points of being a blind person's eyes and, to some degree, ears as well. Not all the puppies make it through.

Tucker, a moose of an animal at almost 80 pounds, did.

A little over 5 months after his return to GDA, Tucker was presented to a six-foot-two-inch lug of a man who had by the time of his arrival at the school had had the last of his faith in humanity beaten out of him by a diagnosis no one, you should pardon the expression, saw coming.

Tucker was not even two years old at the time of his assignment to me.

Now, Tucker came to me fully trained. Unfortunately I could not return the favour. So, Tucker had to basically teach me the ropes on his home turf, so that I could teach him the ropes when we returned to mine.

We worked, under supervision of course, on a basic route around a city much like the one where I live now. We had great instruction. I asked questions, Tucker patiently put up with my mistakes. WE got to a point when we were required to put all of the pieces of instruction together and navigate the route on our own. Under the watchful eyes of our instructors, of course, but really, we were on our own.

I can't describe, after years of travelling with a white cane bumping into things to get around them, the feeling you get when you navigate your first route with a guide dog, flowing around obstacles like water through a stream. I can tell you this much, though.

When we crossed that last intersection, headed back to our starting point, I was already in tears. An instructor touched my shoulder from behind, said "go ahead and stop". I went immediately to my knees, threw my arms around this wonderful animal's neck and cried my pain out. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!", I blubbered into this beastie's thick neck. He licked me on the end of my nose as if to say, "No problem , dude. It's hot, can we go in now?"

That was the end of June. Tucker turned 2 on July 11, 2013. We came home 2 days later. It's no exaggeration to say, without any sense of the maudlin that Tucker has in a very real sense given me my life back. I owe this all to his training, my willingness to help him stick to his training, but most importantly the Community that reared him, housed him, loved him and brought him to a place where he could achieve his potential. And, hopefully, to help me achieve mine.

So far, so good...