Episode Transcript
[00:00:03] Speaker A: I may not see sunrises or sunsets, but I know freedom, independence, and opportunity when I see them. So when my ship came in, I knew to hold on tight and follow it wherever it might lead.
Welcome to the Defending Vision podcast, where this blind man shows you exactly how he sees it. Hardship, humor, and keeping a vision alive. Throw on some headphones for the full audio experience.
[00:00:36] Speaker B: Start. Anybody know what this is? A picture of?
A black screen.
Technically, yes. But this is actually what I see and what many others see.
This is how one person sees a sunrise, how a black person sees the sunset, and this is how a blind person would see somebody else's face.
Even though this is how myself and many others see, there are things that can bring color, vision, and even freedom into their lives. And one of these things is a guide dog.
[00:01:18] Speaker A: It's hard to believe it's been almost 20 years since I gave that talk at guide dogs for the blind in San Rafael, California.
I was just twelve years old, but I think I said a few things that I really like. So I'm going to throw a couple clips in today. My apologies for the poor sound quality.
In October of 1921, Bluenose won its first trophy, recognizing it as the fastest fishing schooner in the North Atlantic. Bluenose became an important symbol for Nova Scotia in particular, and Canada as a whole. It has been commemorated on the canadian dime stamps and the current Nova Scotia license plate.
On the other hand, in July of 2004, Bluenose and I graduated from the Mira foundation dog guide school in Quebec, Canada.
My bluenose was a half lab, half mountain Bernese, weighing in at a whopping 85 pounds. I'm now on my fifth dog walker. Each of these dogs has accompanied me through major milestones in life, graduating high school, college, going off to work, buying a house.
Getting bluenose, on the other hand, was really a milestone of its own, and certainly an achievement. I first visited a dog guide training program when I was six years old. Unfortunately, I was informed, you cannot get a dog until you're 18.
When the puppies came out at the end, I was hooked.
I bugged my parents for years, saying, I want a dog, and I definitely don't want to wait till I'm 18.
So why this rule? Well, the history of dogs being trained for the blind actually goes back pretty far, but it really became popular around World War Two with veterans coming home without their eyesight.
At this point in time, blind youth were generally in schools for the blind, and these institutions did not want the dogs, and it was assumed the students could not handle or take care of the dogs on their own.
My mom kept looking an ultimately found Mira foundation in Quebec, Canada, just outside Montreal.
It was a relatively young school with a youth program. They had done their own experiments to determine if blind youth could handle and take care of dogs. And they had even come up with their own breed. And that was the Laburnese, or later the St. Pierre Half lab, half Bernese mountain dog. These dogs were an excellent mix of the drive of a lab, the eagerness to work, and the mountain Bernese's calmer demeanor, which worked great for younger kids. The story they told me was that early on, when they were considering the youth program, they got together 20 kids, ten blind, ten sided, and then they brought in ten dogs and they had them stay together in the dormitory at the school for a few days or a week.
And they found that by the end of the time there, every dog spent most of its time, and certainly evenings and nights, with the blind kids.
The blind kids focused on the dogs, learned to take care of them. The sighted kids, they said, were playing video games and mostly ignoring the dogs. They decided there was no reason that blind youth couldnt have a dog. So when my mom found them, I was ten years old. We reached out with an email, had a phone call, and ultimately submitted an application.
Finally, I had to demonstrate that I could get around safely using my white cane. We sent in a video of me walking from home to school, making street crossings, and ultimately reaching my destination.
My application was accepted, but now the real work began. I was sent a six page fax of things that I had to learn over the next three months before going to class. I was told that given my age and the amount I had to learn, there was a good chance it would take two summers to learn it all and be ready to take a dog home.
When switching from the white cane to a dog, something is lost. Tactile information.
You still have what you can feel through your feet, but you're no longer getting all the information that the cane provides. So this list of skills was all about adapting to that. This included learning how to count the number of lanes just by the sound of the cars and their distance, learning to travel down the sidewalk, stop at an intersection, make the crossing, and continue without a cane or someone guiding.
In addition, we had to make a fake harness handle out of pvc pipe. And my parents, Fido and Fifi, would act as my pseudo guide dogs as we traveled around town, occasionally veering off course and me using sound to detect this, giving them the french correction and bringing them back on course.
In addition to learning to work without the tactile information, this was also in an effort to prepare me for the fact that a dog is just a dog. Theyre amazing and we have to trust them as their handler. But we also have to know that there will be sights and smells that take them off course. Our task is to be ready for that, watch for it and bring them back into attention when the time comes.
So if you ever see a blind person correcting their dog, just know that we aren't doing it in any way that will harm them. And in fact, these dogs aim to please. We're just making sure that we are safe because our safety in many cases does depend on this dog paying attention and doing what it should at each moment. In any case, not every program has these sorts of strict requirements and things that people have to learn ahead of time. I know for myself I'm really glad that they did.
[00:07:00] Speaker B: While I was doing all of this, a young puppy named was born and picked up by a foster parent. Okay, I know I want the right picture.
I've always told people that they're really lucky I'm not because I can't ever see this thing. Everybody says, oh, he's so cute for you.
[00:07:24] Speaker A: As I said, July of 2004, my family and I arrived in Quebec.
My parents and sister were going to spend the month in a one room cabin so that they could be nearby, and I would spend the month in the dormitory with the other students in the class, learning and working every day for many hours. There had been a joke during all my practice for those months leading up to the program that I was probably going to come home with a dog named Fifi. Likely poodle, my dad said. So we arrived on campus and wouldn't you know, the first dog we met was Fifi. Fifi was not in fact the poodle. But we did go down to the kennel where they gave us a tour and informed us that they do train standard poodles for some users.
Needless to say, I did not wind up with a dog named Fifi, but I guess it got close. The campus was made up of several buildings. It had the dormitory for the dog guide program, another newer building for the wheelchair assistance program, the kennel, and then it also had several fake intersections where we spent many hours practicing with our dogs before going into the cities.
I'm sure you can imagine that an eleven year old in a strange country where everybody speaks French was definitely a daunting experience.
This month was not easy. There were many nights that I called my parents crying, saying, I just don't know that I can do it.
Of course, in typical fashion, every time they would say, it's okay, we can just go home. And I said, no, I really want the dog. And so I pushed through. But it was hard being one of only a couple of the students that spoke significant English. There were a couple students from France, one from Spain, and a couple there from Quebec. Thankfully, I had my french mother, Giselle, the chef at the school. She was always helpful. Living on cereal and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches probably was not the healthy option, but at eleven years old, it was a little bit of comfort on hard days.
The first few days were basically trial and error and some test driving.
Every program is different in how the trainers match the dog to the student. Many schools, including those where I've gotten dogs more recently, the trainer evaluates your walking speed, your lifestyle and where you live. And simply, a couple days into class brings in a dog, says, here you go. At Mira, it was a little bit different.
We spent the first couple days actually trying dogs, working with them around the kennel, learning the commands to tell them forward, left, right. Of course, these were french, some of them technically mule commands and not actual french. But we had things like an avant for forward, a and g for left and right. These are not french.
Si for sit, ouch for lay down, etcetera.
I personally worked with several dogs, Duerjo, pavo, and bluenose.
The trainers would watch us looking at the dogs height, our walking speed, our overall demeanor.
Some people would want a smaller dog if they do a lot of traveling. Some would want a more excited dog that worked faster, and others wanted a dog that was calmer for an office environment.
I'm sure we all had our opinion of which dog we worked with should be the one, but I think it was right that we didn't have a strong say. Many students would say, I want a dog that I want a yellow lab, or I want black, or I want this, I want female, I want male. I'm sure we all had opinions, but the trainers know the dogs best. And the first time that a new user is working with a dog, that dog does not behave how they normally would. They may often walk slower because they're nervous about who you are and how you're going to respond to them. They may also walk faster because they're simply excited to have met a new person. So you really do have to trust the trainers that they've worked with these dogs for months and they know them very well.
Come the evening of the second or third day, we were lined up on benches outside the kennel and told that they were going to bring us each the dog that had been assigned. We would not get to keep them in our room that night, that would happen the next day, but we would get to finally know which dog they thought we were taking home. For me, out came Pavo for another student from Spain, blue nose.
We started getting to know our dogs even a little bit more. And yet, the next morning, there was a twist. The trainers had done one more evaluation and decided that Matt Cooper needed blue nose. So they swapped us. I really don't know why they felt suddenly that blue nose was more appropriate for me and Pavo for him, but I will say he was not particularly happy that in Spanish, pavo means turkey.
Regardless, bluenose and I were now a team, working hard and hoping to graduate in just one class.
The first few days with the dog, we work on the basics. Obedience, food, refusal, actually handing the dog dog food or human food while they have their harness on and requiring that they turn away. This is not in their instinct whatsoever, but it's important for a dog that's going to spend time in restaurants and other places where they need to truly ignore food.
And of course, there are the simple things, like feeding the dog, learning to pick up dog poop. I myself, clearly overly excited, one night misread my braille watch and went out to grab the dog's food at something like four in the morning, immediately had the trainer, who was spending the night coming out and saying, Matt, go back to bed.
Pretty soon we were off to the city, Montreal, Mont Saint Hilaire, and ultimately one day all the way up to Quebec City, about a three hour drive each way. Each night, Christian, the only blind instructor and owner of Fifi, would teach us a route. He had tactile maps of each route that would show us where we were supposed to turn. He would explain what crossings were, lights and other stop signs, and we would need to memorize this for the morning of the next day. Now, Christian did not speak English. It was an amazing opportunity, learning the routes and getting through that language barrier.
Simple things like, obviously learning Lumiere is light. And that's all he had to say. Him moving my hand, intersection by intersection on these large, wooden, tactile street maps. Once memorized.
The next morning we would get up early and head into the city.
We would be dropped off often at an ice cream parlor that the school was connected with or something like that. And one by one, we were taken out to walk our route, we were graded on completing it successfully, winding up at the correct location, and doing it consistently with our dog.
If you got lost and confused, the trainer was there. But in general, ask someone else for help. Learning to stop someone on the street, ask them for help. What street am I on? Which way to this street? Things like that. Of course, once again, there was always a language barrier, so it was definitely an experience.
If you completed the route successfully in the morning, you were congratulated with the wonderful opportunity of doing it again by memory in reverse. That afternoon, later in the class, we moved to doing doubles. Two students would be taken by one trainer, and we would alternate who was in front for each block, switching back and forth, working together to make sure we were going to the correct location. These were really interesting experiences, most of mine happening with students who spoke only French.
It really was a neat experience and a learning opportunity to work with someone in a team fashion without significant communication.
I wrote about these experiences in my college essay because it really was formative, and I truly am thankful for the opportunity to do this.
Now I will say blue nose and I started off a little slow, shall we say.
Initially, his pace was a crawl. I knew that I wanted to be a fast walker with a dog, but Bluenose was not having it. We tried everything. The trainers taught me all sorts of techniques, encouraging him with my voice, putting pressure on his harness handle in a way that would get him to go faster. At least. With them, nothing worked. We spent probably close to a week trying to get him to get moving.
And then one day, Lily, one of the trainers, she was from Mexico and learning her way around training dog guides, and I were out on a walk. It was a nice, slow stroll, according to Bluenose, and we were trying everything once again, encouraging him, doing everything over and over, trying to get him more relaxed, and hopefully would speed up.
And then he did. Blue nose broke into a complete sprint.
Lily chasing blue nose and I up a hill around a turn, moving as fast as we could.
Finally, he stopped, and I guess he had decided that now we were okay.
This dog was not interested until he finally was. And from then on, we walked at a great pace, and he was relaxed and comfortable with me.
So did we work hard in class? Absolutely. Probably 6 hours a day, six days a week.
But this was a class of characters, and there were some really fun experiences along the way. On Sundays, they typically had some sort of experience for us. The first Sunday horseback riding, the second a water park or really a ski resort that was turned into a water park in the summer. On that particular occasion, we had, let's say, an eventful day for one of our students.
They had a ride that was effectively a zipline where you would drop down into a pool at the end. One of the students really wanted to give it a try, and so the trainers counted off so that he knew how long to hold onto the zipline before letting go. One, two, three.
Fairly simple, however, when he got on and began sliding in his mind, he counted one, two, three, and he let go, bounced down the padded mattresses all the way down into the pool.
I wasn't there at the ride at the time, but we did hear the park security running, worried that somebody had been hurt. Once we got back, they were asking him, is your head okay? Is your neck okay? Have you broken anything? He, on the other hand, obviously having never seen anyone do the ride, was confused. He thought that's exactly what it was supposed to be and had a wonderful time. Needless to say, nobody else got to try it. That day.
I mentioned that my parents spent the month in Quebec, them and my younger sister. I am so thankful that they did. This was a challenging month, and having them there for support meant everything.
During the first week, they were not allowed to visit because the school wanted all the focus to be between me and the dog, building that bond just between handler and the dog. We did not want any bond to form with my family initially, and really with all of my dogs. You want to be careful that the dog knows that it's yours, not the family's.
Finally, at the end of the first week, my parents began coming in the evening to hang out and chat outside.
They did not meet the dog, however, for another week.
My dad, in a stroke of genius, brought a baseball and our gloves. My mom and sister would sit on one of the picnic benches as my dad and I threw a ball back and forth. Okay, I threw to him, he rolled it back to me, and maybe I got in front of it.
I said in the beginning that the school had told me that there was a good chance it would take me two summers of class to be ready for a dog since I was only eleven years old. I got the first sign that perhaps I had completed it in just one. The last week of class. The trainers came and said that Bluenose is foster parent was there to see him.
We walked out. Blue nose stood there for a moment, not entirely sure what was going on, and then immediately broke into absolute excitement, jumping and running with this person who had raised him for a year since he was a puppy.
Blue Nose spent much of the time moving back and forth between us, his head on my lap, his head on his foster dad's lap, back and forth. I can only imagine that this was a confusing moment for a dog, trying to figure out who on earth was taking him home. For me, this was an incredibly exciting moment. This was the sign that just maybe blue nose and I were graduating and would be heading home together, and that perhaps I had beaten the odds and done it in just one summer. And in fact, that's what happened. I ultimately graduated with bluenose, becoming the second eleven year old to receive a dog guide and the youngest handler in the world at that time.
This experience meant so much to me. It was life changing, for sure.
I immediately felt that this should be an opportunity for more blind youth. I began speaking at guide dog programs like Guide dogs for the blind, as you've heard, and also orientation mobility conferences around California.
It was clear to me that there was no real reason to say that blind youth couldn't have a dog.
Did you have to train a lot? Did you have to work hard, learn how to properly care for and handle your guide? Absolutely. So perhaps not for every child, but really, a dog is not the right answer for even some blind adults. We all have different needs and different abilities, and so that should be taken on a case by case basis, of course.
So that's the story of when my ship came in my blue nose. He never won any international trophies, but he was a trusty companion for many years.
I'm gonna let twelve year old me finish this talk. I think the way I did it then is still right now.
[00:22:51] Speaker B: But the best way to describe what he has done for me is by reading me the thank you letter I wrote to Mira after all of this.
Dear Mira, I'm so sorry that I haven't written this sooner. I just wanted to thank you all for the changes that you have all made in my life by deciding to give me a dog at such a young age.
I always tried and tried to figure out what, what is so bad and different about giving kids guide dogs. Now that I've gone through all of this training, I understand what it takes to really train adult or younger people.
I will tell you it wasn't easy learning in a new language, but I know it just gives me more experience.
I sure hope I see you all again someday. The only way I can tell you this is by saying that you all gave me the freedom.
I became so attached to all of you, and I really didn't like leaving because I learned to like the challenge.
Keep working hard and I'll do what I can to maybe get a mirror in the US someday.
Once again, I love the work and I love the amazing gift you all gave me.
[00:24:11] Speaker A: Love.
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