The Guide Dog Miracle on 125th Street

The guide dog world is a small one. It surprises people to learn there are only 10,000 guide dog users in the United States. There are lots of reasons the number is small: blindness is a low incidence disability; not every blind person likes dogs; two thirds of “the blind” in America are over 65 which means, among other things, they may not be genuinely healthy enough to walk with a powerful dog. Add the indisputable fact the US doesn’t have comprehensive national rehabilitation services (providing outreach and information to newly disabled citizens) and “voila” you have the prospect that many people facing vision loss don’t know they qualify for a guide dog and they certainly don’t know guide dogs are offered free of charge.   

 

In sum there’s a lot of “I don’t know” when it comes to the blind, whether we’re talking about guide dog users or not. Advocacy organizations like the American Council of the Blind, The National Federation of the Blind, and the American Foundation for the Blind do a great deal to educate the public about the blind in particular and disability in general. But for all their work the broader view about blindness in America is largely clueless.    

 

I’m in mind of these things because a blind man named Cecil Williams and his guide dog Orlando have been in the news—rightly so—for Mr. Williams fell onto the subway tracks in New York City and his dog, ever loyal, jumped after him. This is everyone’s nightmare, whether you’re blind or not. Its the terrifying scenario of Law & Order episodes. Its the bad stuff of dreams. One can’t imagine the terror that Cecil Williams must have felt. Then try to imagine being in the crowd on the platform—seeing a blind man and his dog down on the tracks, and hearing the oncoming train. 

 

There are moments in this life that strip imagination naked. 

 

Williams and Orlando survived being run over by a train and their story invites pure, instinctive joy. All the laws of machinery and probability have been swept aside. The fact invites one to believe in miracles. God or no God—it doesn’t matter. A man and his dog are safe. In a dark time when many feel civic or existential malaise this story is more than restorative—it affirms our nation’s ethos—people care. Bystanders waved their arms, alerting the train. Police and civilians came together. 

 

Then things went a little crazy. This is the part where the public’s lack of information about blindness in general, and guide dogs in particular enters the picture. Mr. Williams explained to reporters he was retiring Orlando. Orlando is, after all, 11 years old.  Its time for him to stop working. Williams had arrived at this difficult decision long before his accident. When asked what was going to happen to his brave dog, Williams said he was returning Orlando to the guide dog school. “Why,” the press wanted to know? Enter blindness-guide dog-sub-text number one:

 

“The guide dog school must be taking the dog away!” (This narrative automatically assumes three things: the blind are entirely passive and helpless; blind people are vulnerable; and behind this there lurks a heartless “them” because that’s a story Americans have come to imagine in these benighted times. Some horrible bureaucracy, some “Bain Capital” (or as Mel Brooks would have it, some “Engulf and Devour Corporation) was poised to take the man’s dog. 

 

Does it matter that none of the above is true? Yes. The blind do not live in a Victorian world of abjection and helplessness. Nor does any professional guide dog training school “demand” guide dog owners return their dogs when they grow old. A guide dog is yours for life. The only exception I know concerns verifiable animal abuse. Guide dog schools are not in the business of taking dogs away. 

 

Mr. Williams explained he didn’t have enough money to care for a new guide dog and keep his old dog. Enter blindness-guide dog-sub-text number two:

 

Blind people and their problems are entirely matters of money. 

 

Here’s the deal: a working guide dog team can receive money to offset the costs of veterinary care. A retired dog does not qualify for the stipend. This is a big honking deal if you live on a limited income. But its also a big honking deal if you do not. Every dog owner knows that veterinary care for older dogs is a considerable expense. Mr. Williams felt (prior to his accident) that letting the guide dog school find a suitable family to adopt Orlando would be in Orlando’s best interests. But there are other interests too. Many blind people (especially those who live in apartments) find it difficult to have two dogs. And the dogs themselves—that is, the retired dogs—can have trouble adjusting to staying home alone. The best scenario is when a dog can retire and there are people at home and maybe another dog or two. 

 

What I”m getting at is that Williams was giving his dog back to the guide dog school for all the right reasons. But suddenly, in a crazy and highly charged twist, the story became a charity narrative. That’s because surely all blind people must be terribly helpless; must need help overcoming the obstacles of a cruel world. None of this obtains in Williams’ story but the narratives sure took off. 

 

I don’t know Cecil Williams. But I know he loves his dog. I know that retiring Orlando will be terribly hard. I know he will always hold Orlando dear. I also know that the decision to let Orlando go to an adoptive family was not made because of a bank book. But that’s the narrative that ballooned out of control. By the end of the day on Wednesday some $40,000 has been donated to save Orlando. This is not necessarily a bad thing, except that mainstream news outlets are now reporting that because of this outpouring of generosity Williams can now keep his dog. 

 

Lost in the midst of this is that Williams may not want to keep Orlando—his plan was always to let him go to a home where he can have fun—rather than sit around in an empty apartment while the new dog goes places. 

 

The donated money will help retired dogs and will go toward Orlando’s retirement care. There’s nothing wrong with goodness. I’m not that much of a contrarian. But I do think the press should know more about disability in the broadest sense. It should know what the dilemmas and opportunities are for people with disabilities. Instead, what usually transpires whenever a disabled person gets in the news, is this outworn Dickensian world view. That’s the way this was presented just this morning on MSNBC’s “Morning Joe”—the poor blind man gets to keep his dog. I can attest there’s much more to this story. More professionalism. More community. More and more.