Thought Wheel

From the mind of Ann Chiappetta

Oh, Canada, How I Love Thee!

| Filed under blindness Guide dogs Relationships Uncategorized

A public apology to our Continental neighbors following a prior post about being denied a taxi while in Ontario.
The second week of September Bailey and I flew up to Niagara Falls, Ontario Canada to meet my sister-from-another-mother, Myla, for a week of fun and what I call, “bumming around,”. The flight and subsequent driver from Buffalo airport over the Rainbow bridge into Canada were pretty much routine. The Customs officer didn’t even ask for Bailey’s documentation and we arrived at the hotel in about an hour.

The hotel staffer, Autumn, oriented me, giving me a room that was near the end of the hall so it was easier for Bailey to find. She also oriented me to the climate control in the room and walked me to the parking lot where I could take Bailey to relieve himself.

We stayed near the Clifton Hill area on Victoria and found it centrally-located, which was a good thing since we didn’t have a rental car the first few days. There was a casino and restaurants, coffee shops and tourist traps lining the entire area and it was walkable and clean.

We ate at the Hard Rock Café at the casino, and shopped in the Hershey’s chocolate shop. Awesom fudge, BTW.

The tour of the wine district was one of the best and our group got along well, no one minding Bailey and my personal needs getting into and out of the 15-passenger van. This involved sitting down on the floor of the van first, then stepping onto the ground because of my knee. I am past the humiliation of it and once I got to the second vineyard, was not feeling too bad, and didn’t care at all after the third winery anyway (insert drunken emoji).

At Lakeview Winery, I recorded the sounds of the cellar’s enormous vats. Walking into the gigantic structure and smelling the fermenting grapes took me back to my grandfather’s wine cellar and for a moment, childhood memories flooded my head. We went up the steps to a platform next to the casks and even Bailey was curious; Myla said he was looking around and sniffing, too.

While we got in the van after the final winery, Bailey decided to jump into the lap of the man behind me, it was the last winery and maybe he thought, we were all loose enough to appreciate his antics. which was correct Silly boy!

The heat wave was hard for me and I got a mild case of dehydration and had to rest and drink more water after the first two days. I listened to my body and the rest of the time I was okay, even with the heat.
Monday was the day for challenges. The taxi driver for our morning trip to Tim Horton’s refused to take Bailey. He said he knew it was a service dog and “didn’t care,”. We were dispatched a second car, which was fine. We thought it was a fluke, and I called later in the day to report the driver to the taxi company. I also called the constabulary, and wasn’t impressed; the sergeant on duty acted in a dismissive and patronizing manner. “If we come, at all, it will be hours, we’re busy,” he stated, referring to my request to make an incident report.

That evening, we went on a cruise around the Falls and watched the fireworks. We called a taxi back to the hotel and the driver refused to take the dog. Myla and I think it is the same driver from earlier in the day but it was dark and he drove off before we could snap a picture or get his cab number.

The next day Myla said we should rent a car so we didn’t have to take the chance of this happening again. I agreed, not wanting to keep having to be discriminated against.

We toured Niagara on the Lake, finding a most excellent gelato bar. We ate the best dinner at an Irish pub called Macmulligan’s. Myla had fish and chips and I had a sampler plate with three mini pies: curry chicken, Shepard’s pie and steak and mushrooms, I still can’t choose which was better, the shepherds or the steak and mushroom pie.

We found another mall, with more chocolate and I found a Marshall’s and bought a few shirts.

Next year, we are going to Seattle.
This image requires alt text, but the alt text is currently blank. Either add alt text or mark the image as decorative.Annie and Bailey outside the Hotel

Looking Back To Verona

| Filed under blindness Guide dogs Relationships Uncategorized Writing Life

Hello readers, here is a traveling blog of sorts from the past featuring sweet Verona. It’s hard to believe she will be twelve and still healthy and active. Next week I will be kicking around Ontario with Bailey, and every time we visit an attraction I will be thinking of how much Verona opened up traveling opportunities I never thought were possible. Read on, and stay tuned for the post-travel blog upon our return.
THE HANDLER’S CORNER: Living and Working with Guide Dogs
by Ann Chiappetta
www.annchiappetta.com

Reprinted from The September 2018 edition of the Consumer Vision Magazine

Hello, readers. It is the end of the summer, one of my favorite times of year. Warm, lazy days, cool nights, with a hint of autumn in the air.

I’d like to share more on how guide dog handlers provide a meaningful life for a guide dog. Generally speaking, we do our best to balance a dog’s working life with its life as a normal dog. Let’s face it. We can say we have a well-bred, well-trained, and well-behaved service dog, but it is still a dog and will, at times, revert to its instincts and doggie behaviors. We anticipate and honor this by providing play time and experiences which provide our dogs with down time to prevent them from being flooded and overworked.

For instance, I attended a week-long training, and each day, I made sure my guide dog got time to play with his toy and run around a bit in the hotel room. It took only ten minutes, and I know it helped him settle down and relax. This is an example of honoring his work ethic and patience while I attended the training.

Below is an essay on how I try to provide my dog with fun and connection with the doggieness of just being in the moment that dogs love.

Dog Beach, Santa Cruz, California 2012

We navigate the way down a rocky path to the sand. The air is full of beach smells. The sounds of surf and gulls echo off the cliffs as we walk closer to the waterline. My sister unclips the leash from her Golden Retriever. I release Verona, and she trots off, her nose to the ground. My friend, Myla, tells me what she is doing and how far she goes. I call her back a few times as we find a spot near the cliffs to sit and watch the dogs play. Music, my sister’s dog, chases Verona into the water. As she turns back to chase him, a huge wave crashes down, and for a moment, she is engulfed. The wave spits her out onto the beach and she runs to me, weaving in between my legs and soaking my pants. I look like incontinence has gotten the best of me. Verona seems to say, in her best doggie language, “Hey, mom, what happened?” From then on, she doesn’t go near the waves and prefers a safer splash in the wet sand and tidal pools instead.

It’s important to me that Verona have the opportunity to be a dog; so much responsibility is put upon her when the harness is placed upon her back, it seems that this is the right way to let her know how much she has changed my life. As she digs her hole in the cool sand and flops down to dry off, my heart is content because she is doing just what she’s supposed to be doing, living a dog’s life.

San Francisco, Pier 39 and Fisherman’s Wharf

An hour after we leave San Jose, we reach San Francisco. The drive through mid-morning traffic isn’t as bad as we thought it would be, and we soon find a parking garage near the wharf close by Pier 39. Verona’s snorting tells me she’s excited by the new smells and she’s ready to go. Her enthusiasm is contagious, and soon we’re out of the garage and walking along the sidewalk, waiting to cross the street.

As we stroll along the promenade toward the pier, Verona feels as if she’s doing a little dance, and I feel her head turning left and right. A few times, we weave a bit, and I have to check her so she stops. It takes me a minute, but I finally understand what is making her dance around. Pigeons. Hordes of them walking underfoot, across our path, flying up practically under her nose. I’m surprised one hasn’t landed on her back. Myla laughs, saying, “She’s trying really hard to ignore them, but they’re teasing her.”

Thankfully the winged rats are less plentiful on the pier itself, and we spend the time shopping.
Coming to San Francisco with Verona is one of the best parts of traveling with a guide dog. At no time did I feel unsafe, even on the steep wooden stairs leading to the stores on the second level of the pier. Next year, we’re going to Golden Gate Park and Alcatraz.

Follow my blog: www.thought-wheel.com
Join my author’s low-traffic email list. Send me a message: [email protected]
To purchase my books, UPWELLING: POEMS or FOLLOW YOUR DOG, A STORY OF LOVE AND TRUST, go to www.dldbooks.com/annchiappetta/
They are for sale in e-book and print on Amazon, Smashwords, and several other sites.

Black lab with snow sprinkled on the nose

Black lab Verona with snow on her nose

On The Road Again

| Filed under blindness Guide dogs Uncategorized

Tomorrow me and Bailey are boarding the Amtrak train to Baltimore, Maryland. From there we will be taking ground transportation to the Holiday Inn Express in Hunt Valley. The only part of this trip that worries me is the car service – will I encounter ride refusals because of my guide dog? I am prepared as much as I can be, I hope.

As for Bailey, he’s ready to go, like always. After reading this post, please send out good trip Juju. I think I will need it.