I had the most amazing interviewee this week: a pooch who’s dedicated his entire life to service, in the most highly trained level of Service Dogs. Frank Cleveland is a Standard Poodle and a fully trained Guide Dog for the Blind. He lives with his Mom and step-sister (a senior-citizen Dachshund).
When my Assistant knocked, there was lotsa barking, then Frank trotted out to the front porch, followed by his Mom. He shushed soon as she told him we were OK. Following the Wag-and-Sniff, he said, “Please come in. This is my Mom, Jennifer, and my step-sister, Scarlet. Let’s go sit down.”
“So happy to meet you,” I said in my Serious Journalist Voice, because Guide Dogs are All Business when they’re working. “I know you’re in an elite group. I’m eager to learn all about it.”
“Yes we are,” Frank said, “but it’s OK to relax, cuz, here at home, I can be pretty much a plain ol’ dog. ’Course, I help Mom if I need to, but mostly it’s Out In The World where things get Serious. It’s sorta like Secret Service humans: I’m on the lookout every single second, so I’ve gotta be focused and let nothing distract me.”
“When did you decide to be a Guide Dog?” I inquired.
“Akshully, Bonzo, I didn’t ‘decide.’ I was bred for the program. I was born on Christmas Day, which I personally think was A Sign of what my destiny would be.”
“Dog!” I said.
“I KNOW! Right? My school, Pilot Dog, is in Columbus, Ohio. I went straight from my breeder to my first trainer (aka Puppy Walker) when I was only 8 weeks old. We went EVERYwhere together: I got socialized with humans, learned obedience. She tested me to see if I was aggressive, or a ’fraidy cat. Through the whole program, the trainers learn our strengths and weaknesses and always look for reasons to fail us.”
“Woof! That’s harsh!” I commented.
“That’s the point! Sixty to 80 percent of pups who start the program don’t make it. I mean, think about it. We’re protecting the life of someone who’s blind, out in the dangerous world. While we’re learning, we wear vests that say Guide Dog in Training. The trainers don’t let humans or dogs get too close. They want us to feel safe so we’ll be able to concentrate on keeping our human safe. The Rules are Very Strict. We aren’t allowed to play with balls or play tug-of-war or have squeaky toys. Even though we’re trained to obey our Human, we also learn something called Intelligent Disobedience; like if she tells me to go somewhere and I see it’s dangerous, like an obstruction on the sidewalk, I stop her.”
I was getting more impressed by the minute. “How’d you get your Mom?”
“She had to Apply. She flew to Pilot Dog. She hadda bring letters from her doctors, plus five recommendations, saying she was a Good Person Who Deserved a $30,000 Guide Dog. During the next 28 days, they learned about Mom. (She’s very active, teaches yoga, travels a lot.) Before we even met, Mom went through really tough training. Not every blind human can qualify.
“After Mom finished training, we finally met. I was brought to her room, then it was just me and Mom. We were nervous, but I instinctively liked her, so I took a breath and came right up to her. She gave me lots of pats, and I realized she was the human I was gonna protect for the Rest of My Life. Mom cried. It was real emotional.”
Talk about emotional! I wiped my eyes with my paw. Didn’t even try to hide it.
Frank continued. “For the rest of our time at school, we walked EVERYwhere, with the other dogs and humans. We practiced commands, in the city, the country, escalators, elevators, stores. The trainers never called us by our names. Only our Official Human can use that. So they’d say sternly, ‘Jennifer, sit your Poodle!’ ’Jennifer, down your Poodle!’ Akshully, Bonzo, Frank’s not my real name. My real name’s a Secret between me and Mom.”
“Shut the Doghouse Door!”
The-Pooch-Known-As-Frank continued, “Then came the Big Test. After tons of preparation, me and Mom had to leave the School, catch a bus, go downtown, buy something at CVS, get on the bus and come back to the school. Mom had to learn to trust me completely. And WE DID IT! TOGETHER! We graduated and I became officially Mom’s Dog! When we flew home, I sat at Mom’s feet. My life as a Guide Dog had begun!”
“What’s life like now?”
“I’m happiest when I put on my special harness and go to work. But sometimes humans don’t understand they can’t pat me or let their dogs too close. Sometimes, they’re even mean. One time Mom hadda call the police cuz a restaurant guy didn’t believe Mom was blind. He said, ‘She doesn’t look blind.’ What does that even MEAN? I was mad but I kept my cool.
“But we also have fun adventures, ’specially traveling. My favorite country’s Germany. The people really respect my space and my work. Prague’s great, too! We visited New York City on my birthday and I got to see that Really Big Tree. Good thing I’m well-trained, if you know what I mean.”
I nodded.
“Organizations of humans like the Center for the Visually Impaired make it possible for a qualified human to get a trained pooch at no cost to them, believe it or not,” The-Pooch-Known-As-Frank said.
“Totally PAWsome” I exclaimed.
Heading home, I felt humbled and honored to meet a pooch like him. I think it was Rin-Tin-Tin who once said: “Ask NOT what your humans can do for you. Ask what YOU can do for your humans!”
Till next time,
The Bonz
