Sorry for what?

Yesterday, we went briefly to the mall so that I could get some pants hemmed and fixed. I don't like braving the boxing day crowds that much but we did it anyway. I left my guide dog home as it was so crowded and went sighted guide. I went into the change room and put on my new pants, came out and stood on the step so that the woman could see them. She pinned them up and then asked me to turn sideways to see the mirror. I was not sure if that meant she wanted me to see the mirror or if she wanted to see it. I turned sideways anyway. The length felt good to me so when she asked if that was okay, I said yes. then as I reached for the wall ! touch it and orient myself, I think she finally realized I was blind. She said, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." This happens a lot. It got me thinking. She probably was embarrassed for telling me about the mirror. Yes, but I find those things funny and refreshing actually. Was she sorry I was blind? Not sure! Was she sorry she didn't realize I was blind? Not sure. She had given me good service and was very nice and respectful so I saw no problem.

Great things about being blind. Saving someone from a terrible first date.

I wrote the other day about going to the movies. As I said then, I have been going to movies, plays, concerts, and other performances for as long as I can remember. Whoever is there with me sometimes has to describe things to me.
The stage set at a play.
The action in a movie.
My family has gotten quite used to doing this and become very good at it. Some of my friends are also expert at this too especially my storyteller and writer friends.
Several years ago, a new friend of mine (who is now an old friend of mine) and I wanted to go to see the movie "Children of a lesser God" For anyone who doesn't know this movie, it is a movie about a woman who is deaf. So definitely a movie about disabilities. My friend asked me what I would need her to do during the movie. I said that in places where the movie was visual, she would need to describe the action to me. She asked if I'd ever had any people get upset at the movies when someone was whispering to me. I said no. Famous last words.
We went to the movie and sat down. The movie theatre was by no means full. The movie started. It has long stretches of dialogue but there are some visual parts as well. Near the beginning, my friend was whispering discretely to me during an action segment. There was a couple sitting in front of us. A man and a woman. The man turned around, glared at us, and said, "Be quiet."
I said, "I'm sorry but I'm totally blind and my friend is just describing the action to me."
He said, "I don't care. Shut up or I will get the manager."
I said, "Fine. Get the manager."
The woman with this man had turned a bright red.
The man got up and stormed out and got the manager. He returned with the manager.
"These people are disturbing me." he said loudly.
The manager asked what was going on. I pointed out that I was blind, that my friend was only describing action sequences to me when necessary.
The manager said to the man, "Dude you're not serious. You want me to kick these people out."
"they need to move away from me and shut up."
"Well dude. They have every right to be here and she has every right to have the movie described to her. If you don't like it, there are plenty of empty seats in here so you should move."
The man glared at us again. Then he said to the woman, "Come on. We have to move."
She said, "No."
So he got up and stormed off and sat by himself.
The movie proceeded on uneventfully. At the end, the woman came up to us and said she was sorry. It wasn't her fault. I assured her all was okay. The man came over to her and said, "Come on. Let's go to dinner."
She said, "You can go to dinner by yourself." And she strolled off and left him there.
My friend and I took off too. We still laugh at the fact that the only time I had big problems at the movies was for a disability movie and also that we unmasked an unsavory character at what we imagine was his first and last date with that woman. I guess I did her a good service.

Great things about being blind. Yoga class.

I went back to my yoga class this morning for the first time in a few weeks. It was so wonderful despite the howling freezing wind on the way there. This is a yoga class for blind people. There is a great instructor, several blind participants, and some sighted volunteers to assist when needed. I've taken yoga a few times over the years. One place would let me in but not let my guide dog in the yoga studio asking if I could, "Let her stay in the hallway." "No." They said her presence would change the atmosphere of the class. Any yoga class any of my guides has taken has changed the class atmosphere but always for the better. My guides would lie beside me and watch and occasionally put a paw or face on me but never bothered others in class. I have had good experiences in other classes too, but this one is the best. At the beginning or end of each class, we close the doors to the room and the guide dogs (there are usually at least two and sometimes four or five) play and run around and wrestle. So they get their social time in too. The instructor is great at explaining moves and everyone is supportive and friendly. As the classes have progressed, volunteers need to help us less and just take the class with us. When new people come, the volunteers help them. Today we did a lot of very slow moves and stretching which was great on a cold day. Near the end, I was lying on my back and thinking about Gia. Suddenly from my right where Tulia was lying on her mat, a little black paw was slipped into my hand. Just like Gia would have done. She left it there for several minutes. I love my yoga time. And I loved hearing Tulia and the other dog play today. They snorted, and ran, and jumped, and rolled about. Such a joyous sound.

Great things about being blind. Having a wonderful bus travel story.

I took a bus this morning at the tail end of rush hour. Sometimes when waiting at the bus stop, there are many buses that pull up to the same location. This can be stressful as you don't know which bus might be yours. Our transit company here has a kit called bus haler kit. It has brailled numbers which are also large print. You slide the numbers of your bus into a plastic sleeve and hold it up. I don't use this always but will use it in busy areas at rush hour.
This bus haler has led to a few very interesting happenings. One time I was at work and someone came in to say that they were having a debate down the hall. "You know those sleeves with the numbers in them that you hold up?" "Yes." "Someone thinks that is to teach your dog the number of the bus you want." I laughed so hard. My gide dogs are smart but reading bus numbers does not fall into their job descriptions. Another time not too long ago, I was waiting for the bus holding up the numbers. A woman came up and said, "Your dog isn't very good. The bus you want is right there and she isn't taking you to it." Poor tulia. Insulted for no good reason. I didn't use the haler kit today but found it in my bag and it brought back very amusing memories and a good post for the blog.

Great things about being blind. My story of money identification

Yesterday I was asked a question about how I identify paper money. It brought back one of my all time favourite funny experiences. In some countries, bills are of different sizes. Not in Canada. We used to have no way of identifying paper money except for something called a bank note reader that you put your bill in and it read the denomination. Half the time though, (if the bill was wrinkled or something like that) it would say "Cannot read." I heard that more times than I would care to tell you. I always felt like saying, "Well I cannot read it either." I developed a system of folding bills in different ways. Putting them in different pockets of my wallet. I still use this system today. Over the past few years in Canada, they have placed tactile bars on the corners of bills. People think that they represent the numbers in braille, but they don't. What they have is one bar for five, 2 for 10, 3 for 20, etc. But still, I fold and place my bills as I always have. We used to have one and two dollar bills which have since been replaced by one and two dollar coins. The one dollar coin has a picture of a loon on it and it began to be called the loonie. When the two dollar coin came along, it became the toonie. I know you non-canadians, stop laughing at our odd names for money. Smile! This happened when we had one and two dollar bills as well as the others. This meant I had to be very innovative in my folding of money. One evening, we were coming through a very busy Canadian airport. After having gone through customs or security, I realized that I had left my purse somewhere. I went back to security and described my purse to them. They said they had found it and turned it into the office. They took me to the office. A very serious sounding woman was there. She asked what I had in the purse and I described what I had, my ID's and cards. She was satisfied that I was who I said I was. She handed back the purse. "Your wallet really was a mess," she said, "all that money folded up and in different places." She sounded quite disgusted by the whole situation. "I unfolded it all and straightened it all out for you," she said sounding very proud of herself. "And I put it all into one compartment." I very gently explained why I had my money in that state. Humbled, she identified my bills for me so that I could re-fold them and put them back where they belonged. She didn't sound nearly so haughty when I bid her farewell.

Great things about being blind. The novelty of braille.

I was going to write about something else today. I had it all picked out and everything. But, you'll have to wait for that entry as I saw in my inbox a message from a friend about great things about having friends who are blind. She said, practicing and learning braille. Everyone is fascinated by braille. they want to touch it which is good as that is what you are supposed to do with braille. People always say, "How can you tell the difference between those dots? They are so small?" When I first touched braille in grade one, I was shown my name on a card and told it was my name. I thought, "No way. They all feel the same." But I learned braille quickly as I've always loved to read and to write and that was the way to go about it. I loved and still love braille. These days, although I use a computer with screen reading software (my software reads what is written on my screen and what I type) and although I listen to audio books from the CNIB library
http://www.cnib.ca/
and from
http://www.audible.com/ and although I am adicted to podcasts from
www.cbc.ca/podcasting
http://www.bbcworldservice.com/
selected shorts from PRI
the tobolowsky files,
the newyorker fiction podcasts,
http://www.serotalk.com/
I am especially fond of the Ouch podcast on bbc about people with disabilities
www.bbc.co.uk/ouch
I love to read braille and to write with braille.
When I am creating a story to tell or an article, I like to edit and write using braille when possible.
I have a braille notetaker but would dearly love a braille display for my computer all the time so I can read everything in braille.
They are very expensive though.
But in the beginning, we had huge bulky braille books.
One book could be from six to twenty fat volumes of braille.
When traveling to and from school for the blind, or on vacation, I carried heaps of books.
When finishing highschool in my home community, I didn't have a locker. I had a storage cupboard filled with books.
Many of my friends have wanted to learn braille and some have done so. I am always touched when they hand-braille a card for me.
One time in University, all of my residence floor mates had those little message boards outside their room doors. They used to leave notes for each other. "Are you going to dinner at 5?" Etc. I complained jokingly that I never got any messages. I went off to study and when I returned, found a piece of paper taped to my door. It had bumps on it. But they didn't seem like braille. Not having a brailler to use or even slate and stylus, they had punched holes with a pin and used a ruler or something I don't know.
I couldn't read it. They said, "You'd better figure it out. It took us hours to do." I tried my best.
Another friend once borrowed a brailler and brailled me a short story for christmas.
It took him many hours.
I read it in about five minutes and said, "That was a good story."
"you're done already?"
I appreciated the time consuming effort it took.
My mom learned braille when I did and put notes for me on the fridge, wrote me notes from Santa, the easter bunny (I never figured out how a rabbit could actually hop around on those brailler keys) and even the tooth fairy.
I am touched when I am handed braille business cards.
I hope all young children who are blind will always learn braille.
I hope that braille displays come down in price so everyone who wants one can have one.
I love braille.
Thanks Louis Braille for your wonderful invention.

Great things about being blind. The audeo book experience.

I had a bit of a stressful day yesterday. When I climbed into bed, I took my audeo book with me. I love reading braille but also love listening to books, to people read, and to podcasts now. Audio book players have gotten smaller. Braille displays mean that you can read braille that isn't so bulky too. As I listened to the amazing british reader reading my audio book, I felt almost immediately much more relaxed. Then I thought, no wonder I love storytelling. I've been listening to words, voices, stories all of my life. Both of my parents read to me from a very young age. Before I could read, I told stories. Once I could read, I read everything I could literally get my hands on and still listened to audio books. I can listen to an audio book while exercising (except in the pool) while doing dishes, laundry, brushing the dog, etc. Part of my path to storytelling came through audio books and being read to. And still when I feel wound up, stressed, or upset, those voices of readers, or storytellers, calm me down and put me in a world of words. If anyone wants to find out more about my own storytelling performances and workshops, feel free to contact me.

From my sighted friends. Great things about having a friend who is blind.

As I mentioned previously on this blog, a friend who is sighted e-mailed me some great things about having friends who are blind. Other friends sent more. So here are a few.
Great things about having friends who are blind:
They are great at driving bumper cars
They come over and don't care how messy your house or car is
They don't say you've put on a few pounds
They don't critique what you are wearing
They can read to you in the dark while camping or when they are your babysitter
They give you great insights into things
As a writer, they give you practice in describing things
They get you in free to museums, movies, plays sometimes
They allow you to have a dog fix whenever you're with them but you can only pat the dog when given permission of course
You can tell them you look like a stunning model and they believe you.
They can help you out enormously when the power goes off.
They always have interesting adventures
They don't judge you by how you look
One friend said the best thing about having a blind friend is that that friend is you. Thanks for that.
Fun and interesting topic.
Keep any thoughts coming.
I'm starting to think through great things about having friends who are sighted.
It is a freezing cold day here. Thinking about all of my friends keeps me warmer.

Great things about being blind. Air travel. The pilot story.

It is an absolutely freezing day outside today. A good day to fly off to somewhere warm. As promised several times, here finally is the pilot story. This did really happen too. When I got my first guide dog (black lab Gwenny) we were living in Vancouver British Columbia. I had gone out there to study Music Therapy and stayed for several years before moving back East. Richard's parents live in Halifax Nova Scotia and we were visiting them one time. We ended up having to fly straight back to Vancouver from Halifax which was about seven hours or so. There was a brief stop but not a long one. This is quite a long time for a dog to last without going to the bathroom. It can be done and has been done but I thought I would ask the flight attendents if there was any possibility for Gwenny to go out on our brief stop over. The flight attendent said that she would ask the captain. She then came back to tell me that the stop over was too short for me to go through security and come back but that the captain would be happy to take Gwenny onto the tarmac if this was all right with me. I agreed to this gratefully. I usually don't make a habit of getting other people to take my dogs out without me, but this was a special case. When we landed for the stop over, we were told that we could get off briefly if we wished. Richard decided to get off. I thought I would just wait for Gwenny to come back. The pilot came. Of course all dressed up in his pilot's uniform. I had taken Gwenny's working harness off but suggested he carry it on his shoulder in case anyone wanted to know what a dog was doing on the tarmac. He said that was a good idea. So he put the harness over his shoulder and Gwenny pranced off with him to explore the airport tarmac. I thought they would be gone for about five minutes. But time passed and time passed. I was a little worried but figured they would be back. After all, the pilot had to fly us on to Vancouver. Richard returned to sit with me. Still no Gwenny. Finally, after about twenty-five minutes, they returned. The pilot was laughing and Gwenny was wagging and happy. He told me they had walked all over the tarmac, that she had gone, that he hadn't given her water as we had a long flight ahead, and then he said, "I had the most fun ever." He walked all over the place. On the tarmac and then a little inside the airport and when people would stare at them, he would say, "What's the matter. Haven't you seen a blind pilot with his guide dog before?" He was still laughing when he headed back to the flight deck. Every little while as the flight continued, one of the crew from the flight deck would come back to see the famous dog. They all asked if I were going to take any more long distance flights across Canada. I'll bet they were hopeful. Since then, a few pilots have told me that they are pretty sure that blind people could fly the airline planes as it is mostly done by computers now. When I came home recently with Tulia, we also had a long flight. When I landed after the first leg of the flight, I asked if someone could take her to the tarmac. One of the baggage handlers did it but they were only gone for about two minutes.
On another note, I'm still collecting tales for what is awesome about having a friend who is blind. Come on sighted folks. Be creative!

Great things about being blind. All of my friends

The other day, I wrote a blog post about the fact that one of my sighted friends wrote me an e-mail about the amazing things about having a friend who is blind. I loved that e-mail and am still collecting comments on it and will post them in this blog in the coming days. I started thinking a lot about my friends though and want to make the following observations. I am glad there are amazing things about having friends who are blind. I've been totally blind since birth and blindness is definitely a part of who I am. Sometimes I wonder, if I hadn't been born blind, what career might I have chosen? Would I have been scared to interact with blind people? It is pretty interesting to think about and wonder about from time to time. Blindness, I am certain, has helped to make me the person I am. But, it is not the only thing that has. I am a woman. I am short. I am a storyteller and music therapist. I am a generally happy person. My sighted friends and relatives become embarrassed when they forget I am blind. If I ask how to lock their car door and they say, "Push down on the red button." If they hand me a photograph to check out. If they say, "Wow look at that!" They often apologize profusely afterwards. But, I am glad when people forget. It means that my blindness is not the thing that is always in their heads when they are with me. They are thinking of me not just as, "That blind girl." But as their friend. There is such a fine balance here. I don't mind answering questions. I don't mind the curiosity of the sighted. But I don't like to be the object of pity or as if I am a project to be taken on. One time in school, a girl asked if she could walk with me to class. We talked as we walked along. I could have found class by myself. I usually did. "You're at class now Kim," she said. I felt glad that she wanted to chat with me. As she turned away, I heard her say to her friend. "There. I just did my good deed for the day." I was shocked. Had I asked her to help me find class? No. I thought maybe we were becoming friends.

Sometimes, I like to be known as the blind girl by those who can't remember names.

There was a gentleman with Alzheimer's disease who lived in a nursing home where I worked. He loved music and had played instruments all of his life. He had no memory for names. I was the Music Therapist there and he would come looking for me. I didn't have a guide dog then or I probably would have been known as, "The girl with the dog." But I have one eye that is open and I can see a little bit out of that eye. The other eye is smaller and partly closed. I tried having an artificial shell in there but it bugged me a lot. Anyway, he used to say, "Where's old one eye? I want to see old one eye." I loved that. I knew that meant that he really was looking for me. Some staff used to get mad at him for calling me that but I loved it and it made me smile every time he said it. I love all of my friends because they are my friends and I hope that I am an equally good friend to them who happens to be blind.

Kim Kilpatrick

kimjkilpatrick@gmail.com

Storyteller, Presenter, Performer

Check out my web site and blog at

http://www.samobile.net/users/kimk/

I am proud to be a MASC artist.

Check out MASC and my profile at

http://www.masconline.ca

New blog about amazing things about being blind

http://kimgia3.blogspot.com

Great things about being blind. The squeaking of Tulia's boots

Today was freezing in Ottawa and I do mean freezing. Around 30 something below. I wasn't sure if Tulia would go to the airport and jump on a plane to Oregon and Washington state where it is warmer and where she grew up and had her guide dog training.

I was teaching a storytelling workshop today.

In the winters here when it is bitterly cold, it takes person and dog much longer to get ready.

The person has to find coat, boots, hat, mittens or gloves, scarf. And blind people hate mittens or gloves as they act as blindfolds. Hoods or hats can be problematic too as they inhibit hearing and the echo location or facial vision that I use to figure out what is around me. But, when it is this cold, I do what I must do. Then on with Tulia's little red ruffwear boots and her red coat, and off we go. It was a very sunny, bright, quiet morning. Not much traffic. This is nice in one way as it is peaceful outside. The snow squeaks underfoot. But in another way, it is awful. No traffic means that you can't tell when to cross streets and have to stand at the corners in the bitter cold waiting to hear when it is safe to cross. But we arrived ssafely and tulia found our destination. When we entered the quiet building, the rubber soles of tulia's dog boots squeaked like little mice on the tiled floor. It was the most amazing, hillarious sound. Squeak-squeak! Squeak-squeak! Like a herd of mice at a meeting. What is a group of mice called anyway? The workshop was awesome and my wonderful friends gave us a lift home in their warm car.

I'm home now with two well fed dogs sleeping by my feet.

What can be better than that?

Kim Kilpatrick

kimjkilpatrick@gmail.com

Storyteller, Presenter, Performer

Check out my web site and blog at

http://www.samobile.net/users/kimk/

I am proud to be a MASC artist.

Check out MASC and my profile at

http://www.masconline.ca

New blog about amazing things about being blind

http://kimgia3.blogspot.com

Great things about being blind. Interesting feedback.

Yesterday I got an e-mail from a friend saying what the great things about having a friend who is blind are. It was awesome. I never thought of that twist and was fascinated by it. I asked my friends in facebook land to provide more suggestions and am getting some great comments. You can provide them here too in the comments section or e-mail them to me directly at
kimjkilpatrick@gmail.com
Will publish them in a few days all compiled and with names removed of course. I also want to ask my blind friends to say great things about having friends who are sighted. Also, for blind people, what are the great things about having friends who are also blind. My friends are so amazing. Blind, sighted, all nationalities, abilities, etc. I am so lucky.

Great things about being blind. Listening to dogs eat and drink.

My wonderful friend Gary is driving me to get dog food today. Carrying huge bags of dog food on public transit or on foot is not easy. Thanks Gary. As I was thinking about this this morning, I thought about how interesting it is to listen to dogs eat and drink. And how all of my different dogs have done so differently. All of my guides have been retreivers of some kind. Three labs and one golden retreiver. And so they have all loved their food. If I ate the same thing for each and every meal, each and every day, would I attack my food as if it was the most wonderful thing ever seen? Would I wag my tail furiously when it is presented? Would I drink water gratefully and gleefully? Not always probably. But my dogs have and my dogs do. Having two dogs now, I know always which one is drinking water. Which one is eating. All of my dogs have sounded different and done different things. My first guide Gwenny ate fast but drank slowly. You could hear the clink of the collar against the bowl. The slow steady beat of her drinking. The frantic pace of her eating. My second guide Margaret always tipped the bowl over and played with it when it was empty. Clanging it. Kicking it around the kitchen. Gia is a slow and delicate eater. She takes her time. You can hear her chewing kibbles and she drinks water at a very fast lapping pace. Faster than any dog I have ever had. Tulia eats fast and furiously and drinks with that slow methodical pace. She licks her whole bowl for several minutes afterwards and drinks a whole bowl of water with each meal. They prance around me with great excitement as I get food ready. Tulia scampers to where the food bowl will be placed, sits down beside it, and wags herself so I can hear her body swishing on the floor. "I'm sitting. I'm being good. I'm so good. Is that my breakfast?" Gia always nudges me with her golden head as I place the food down. "Yes that's right. A little faster if you don't mind?' It is a great pleasure to listen to my dogs get ready for meals, and eat and drink with such joy.

Great things about being blind. Train travel continued. Seat assignments

I know that this would never have happened to me if I hadn't been blind. This story evokes images which never fail to bring a smile to my face. I thought of it yesterday while on the train and almost laughed out loud. Remember a few posts ago when I talked about the well-meaning airline agent who gave me a boarding pass for my dog? If you don't, read back through my blog and find it under air travel. Once in a while, people who give me my train tickets also provide a ticket for the dog. This didn't happen yesterday and doesn't always happen but sometimes it does. On one memorable day, I was given a ticket with a seat in one car and my golden guide dog Gia was given a different seat in a different car. The images flooding my mind were wonderful. The blind woman escorts her guide dog to a seat in a car. She tells the dog she can sit on the seat (my guides always travel on the floor in public transit vehicles). She tells the dog to stay and not to surf the net or eat too much. People around watch in amazement. As the food cart comes by, Gia takes almost all of the food on it. Especially the raw carrots which she loves. After the much lighter food cart has passed, she facebooks all of her dog friends to tell them of her adventures and then settles down for a well-deserved nap. This never happened of course but I wouldn't have had the pleasure of imagining it if I hadn't been blind and issued a ticket for my dog. When we actually did board the train, we both went to my car and my seat and she curled up on the floor at my feet as usual.

Great things about being blind. Sighted people who naturally know the right things to do.

I had a wonderful day today. All of it. It started out freezing cold. I was up early to walk my dogs and to get things together to leave for a storytelling/disability awareness presentation in a town about an hour away by train. I called for a cab to pick me up. I could have bussed it to the train station but it was freezing and early. The cab driver was wonderful, friendly, and pointed out where the station doors were when I got out. And he complimented me on my guide dog too. Once inside, I got my ticket. The man at the counter broke apart my tickets and said he was handing me the one for the journey back first so that I could put it away. Then, he handed me my ticket for the outward trip. This doesn't seem like a big deal but usually sighted folks just hand you the whole thing and then you hand the train people the whole ticket. It isn't a big deal but by doing what he did, he showed me he was aware of what I would need to know and I didn't even have to ask. Next he asked if someone could show me to the proper departure area. Another very nice and friendly man came and without my having to ask, he asked if I wanted to take his arm or if my dog would follow him. Once again, someone who easily and naturally knew how to help and how not to help. The people on the train were wonderful. Tulia was beautifully behaved on her first train journey with me. When I reached my destination, I was met by one of the people organizing my presentation. She too was wonderful, friendly, full of enthusiasm. She admitted that she didn't know how best to guide me but she asked what I needed and listened. At the restaurant, the food was good, the company interesting, engaged, and wonderful. One person said they expected to learn something but hadn't expected to be so entertained. There was lots of laughter and many excellent questions. The storytelling was wonderful in itself but as it often does, serves as a vehicle for disability awareness education. After we were finished, I got a ride back to the train station where (once again) staff were friendly, helpful, not patronizing in the least. the trip home was smooth and relaxing and when I got here, my wonderful retired guide was thrilled to see us back again. So thanks to all of you sighted people out there who make life so fun. And to those who make it difficult sometimes, that is okay too because you may just show up in one of my stories. Everyone today was stellar. Thanks for that.

Great things about being blind. Air travel continued. Going through security

Well yes I did promise you the pilot story and we are getting to it. However, as I write, new memories come to me and I thought of a very funny one about going through security with my second guide dog Margaret. Margaret was a little yellow labrador. She was small but not as small as my little tiny Tulia dog. We worked at that time in a nursing home. I say we worked because all of my dogs did as much work as I did for sure. Seeing a dog in that environment did a lot of good for the residents. I was a Music Therapist there and inevitably when I would ask residents if they were coming to music, they would ask if that beautiful dog was going to be there. All three of my previous guides worked in this environment and although Tulia does not work there regularly, she had the pleasure of visiting while I played Christmas carols for residents in December. Anyway, Margaret and I were going through security at our local airport. Whenever guide dogs go through security, something in their equipment (leash, collar, harness) sets off the alarm. So security people have to take a look at them. Well, we went through and Margaret set it off. a man came up and said he would have to take a look at my dog. I assured him that this was fine as long as he didn't take her away from me. Just as he was looking at her, a woman charged out from behind the counter and said, "Wait a minute. That's Margaret. You don't need to look at Margaret. She is a therapy dog. and a guide dog." She worked in airport security but I knew her because her mom lived at the nursing home where I worked.

Great things about being blind. air travel adventures 1.

Well I am all rested and ready to write. But before I tell you my pilot story we have to check in to fly right? Yes we do. So here is a check in story. For anyone who doesn't know this, people who are blind and travel with guide dogs have the dogs right with us in the cabin of the airplane on the floor in front of our seats. As mentioned in my previous blog, sometimes that means we get moved up to first class. Usually flying with my guides has posed very few problems even on quite small planes. One time, we were checking in for a flight. When I got to the counter, the person agreed that my guide could travel with me but she insisted that she needed some type of boarding pass. I told her that this had never been the case in the past but if she wanted to give me something for my guide, she could do so. She printed something off and handed it to me along with my boarding pass. "Make sure you show this at security," she said. So off to security we go. When asked for boarding passes, I showed both. The people burst into hysterical laughter. "who gave you this for your dog?" they asked. I told them it was at check in. "Oh I bet it's that woman on her first day." They said and told me about the pass. They said they would call and tease her but asked me to show it to the flight attendents when we boarded the plane. I agreed to this and off we went.
When we boarded, I dutifully showed both passes to the flight attendent and again there was hysterical laughter. That adventure took place with my first guide dog Gwenny. When Gwenny died of cancer, I made a special box of things for her. She died suddenly while still working. I put in a favourite, bone, toy, collar, and a few other things. One of those things was the sign from the plane. Any guesses as to what it said? Wait for it. It said, "OVERSIZED CABBIN BAGGAGE."