Saying bye to friends is a ruff life
Cathy Free
She's done this nine times now, but the heartbreak doesn't get any easier, especially when she has to gaze into another pair of sad brown eyes.
That's the hardest part about raising guide dogs for the blind, says Lindsey, 23, a recent college graduate who trained her first puppy and gave him away when she was 15. "For one year, you've had this special connection and it's hard to break it," she says. "I cry every time."
In a week or two, Lindsey will say goodbye to Ontario, an affectionate German shepherd now ready for the next step in his training: guide dog college. If Ontario makes it through the 6-month course in San Rafael, Calif., he'll be assigned to a blind person and form a new lasting bond.
"Our relationship will be over," says Lindsey, "but Ontario will become somebody's soulmate for life. When I think of that, it makes me smile."
Eager to share the joys of becoming a volunteer guide dog trainer, Lindsey recently joined me for a Free Lunch of takeout turkey sandwiches and tomato soup at the Salt Lake City duplex she shares with a roommate and two dogs, Ontario and Frisco, an energetic yellow Labrador puppy.
Socializing a puppy is a complicated job, but Lindsey, who grew up in Mapleton and is president of Utah County's New Leash on Life guide dog group, is up to the challenge. Every day, she slips Frisco's green "Puppy in Training" coat over his head, attaches his harness and heads out to tackle another obedience skill.
"When he's on a leash, he's all business," says Lindsey, who is stopped every few minutes by people who want to meet Frisco. Although her dog would love to leap on every admirer, he knows better. Just like the royal guards at Buckingham Palace, "he knows not to express himself in public," says Lindsey. "To make it as a guide dog, he has to be on his best behavior."
Ever since she trained her first dog, Magician, Lindsey has kept scrapbooks to remember each dog that has shed on her furniture, curled up at her feet and sunbathed on her patio. Anya, Spence, Brogan, Sonny, Garvey, O'Connor and Carlisle were family, she says, just as Ontario and Frisco are now.
"When you first get your dog, they bring it in on the 'puppy truck,' and you think, 'I'm going to love this one too much to give it up,"' says Lindsey, who has decided to make a career out of teaching the visually impaired.
Like parents watching their children go off to college, "you feel proud and heartbroken at the same time, but somehow you get through it," she says. "Knowing that your dog will be making a difference in a blind person's life makes it all worthwhile."
Have a story? You do the talking, I'll buy the lunch. E-mail your name, phone number and what you'd like to talk about to freelunch@desnews.com. You can also write me at the Deseret Morning News, P.O. Box 1257, Salt Lake City, UT 84110.
Recent comments
What a great program. My daughter raised a puppy for the program...
dbf | March 27, 2008 at 7:48 a.m.
