What I Wish I’d Known before getting a Guide Dog

I love my dog. Isla is sweet, friendly and endlessly curious. Her independent yet loving nature makes her easy to be around and we have adapted very well to one another over the last six years. What started off as one very bouncy, sensitive dog combined with a teenager who barely had a hold on her emotions has evolved into a handler and her dog who travel the world together. We turned out pretty well, if I say so myself!

Our growth has been a long process, one which I don’t believe will ever end. In just under three months Isla will retire and begin the next stage of her life, I hope living a life of luxury. I too will embark on a journey, testing my limits in another country once again. This has resulted in a lot of reflection on our partnership. There have been many highlights and thankfully only a few disasters along the way.

If I could go back and sit down with my 18-year-old self who was utterly unprepared for becoming a guide dog handler, but had no idea she was unprepared, these are a few of the things I’d want her to know.

Becoming a team takes time

I’m sure you’ve all read the story of a blind person who met their guide dog for the first time, fell in love and was given the gift of freedom. I’m not going to say that this doesn’t happen to some of us, I’m sure it does. But for others like myself building a strong partnership can take months of hard, tiring work. There were days in the beginning where I thought I’d never get it. When I corrected Isla too much or not enough, when we both decided that our way was the best way, resulting in us getting nowhere.

Now when she tucks herself under the seat in front of me on a plane or runs beside me as I go hiking it’s hard to believe we had those days. But we did. I knew very little about dogs and most of what I know now I discovered through reading, asking a lot of questions and making some mistakes. I wish I’d known to ask Guide Dogs for literature on working with a dog or taken time to read books on dog behaviour. I don’t think every handler needs extensive knowledge of dog psychology but having a basic understanding of how your dog’s brain works goes a long way in those early stages.

I was told that I had a sensitive dog, but what did that mean in reality? Six years later I can tell you that Isla is a mixture of deeply sensitive, and recklessly fearless! It’s quite a combination. Her fearlessness has enabled us to travel the world, to navigate cities with unimaginably confusing traffic and dance all night at parties. But her sensitive side requires me to handle her in a certain way. Leash corrections don’t work particularly well on her. I’m much better off using a verbal reminder and redirection. For example, if she was to be careless and catch my right shoulder on something or miss a kerb I can tell her to turn around, walking a few feet away from the offending object and encouraging her to rework it. She knows she’s made a mistake, but she also knows she can figure it out and get us through safely.

I wish I’d known that it’s ok to ask questions. That it’s ok to not be perfect. That it’s ok to take time.

You don’t have to be an ambassador

This is often quite a contentious point amongst guide dog handlers, guide dogs staff and volunteers. Some people, from all these groups will tell you that you should be mindful that you always represent Guide Dogs, and that any interaction should reflect that. Others will tell you not to worry and to do whatever you feel is best at the time. I fall firmly in to the latter group.

I often tell people not to interact with Isla when we are out and about. This includes starting with a polite reminder that she’s working. But if the person continues to knowingly distract her I will tell them to stop, and if necessary use a firmer tone of voice with them. I have had to remove people’s hands from her, and deal with remarks like “well I didn’t think you’d see me”, or “you don’t have to be so rude, I was just saying hello”.

When I use a cane, that cane tells me information about my surroundings, such as whether there are steps in front of me or if we’ve reached a kerb. When I walk with Isla, she must perform all those tasks. Distracting her could put my life, her life, and the life of the person who is distracting her at serious risk. Forgive me if my concern for my life is greater than whether that person, on being told not to touch my dog, will refrain from putting 50P in the guide dogs collection tin next time.

When I first became a guide dog owner I always felt a huge amount of pressure to represent. If I said no, would that person then refuse to donate to guide dogs? Would that be my fault? Shouldn’t I let them, Afterall, it’s only because of public donations that I had Isla in the first place.

This is not a fun position to be in and I really empathise with anyone who is struggling with these issues. In the end I decided that I had to do what was best for me. Constant interactions with strangers make me deeply uncomfortable. I become tired, my already limited resources rapidly drained by constant questions about my blindness, how old my dog is and wasn’t my life so much better now I had her. By limiting those interactions, I can get from A to B much faster and conserve my energy for the things that matter to me.

I have concluded that anyone who really cares about Guide Dogs and the work they do will understand this. The fact that I’m out with my dog, studying, travelling, working and living should show the value of donating, rather than a token five second interaction in which I regurgitate the basic facts of both my and her lives.

You decide what is possible

I always knew that I wanted to travel the world. Even when I didn’t have the skills to do so it was a dream that I nurtured, knowing that one day I would be able to do it. When that day came I never questioned whether Isla would come with me, of course she would. By this point we were a team and I knew that even though travelling abroad would present some unique challenges, we could do it.

We did. In January 2015, when I finally had both the time and money to do so, we moved to Spain. I was far from the first guide dog handler to go abroad with my dog. My belief that we could do so came at least in part from knowing a handler who had travelled to Australia with her dog. If other teams were doing it, there was no reason why I couldn’t.

I have since discovered that there are people who don’t believe doing so is sensible. I respect the right of every handler to make their own choices, and if you don’t personally want to travel abroad with your dog you shouldn’t be pressured to do so. But for anyone who is struggling with this choice, wanting to travel but worried that they shouldn’t do it I really believe it’s a choice you have to make. If you think you can do it then you only know by trying your best.

Once we travelled to one country we did it again…and again…and again. Now planning for a ten-hour flight seems like nothing at all, it’s just another part of how we work as a team.

I’m grateful that as a young, inexperienced handler I had so many people on my side. From family members to Guide Dogs staff, they all showed me that becoming a strong team was possible. I still wish I could go back and tell my younger self these things, to put her mind at rest and show her that the hard, confusing days are worth it in the end.

If you’re struggling I want you to know that it’s ok to reach out. Lean on people if you need to. Ask questions that will put your mind at ease. And don’t let others set limits for you, pursue the things you care about and build a life you can look back on and be happy with.