Safe & Sound blog

In my Law & Order: Special Dog Unit post last October, I wrote about testifying against a cab driver who refused to pick Hanni and me up. That very morning, when Mike helped me hail a cab to go to court, another cab driver refused to pick me up with my Seeing Eye dog.

A cab slowed down, the driver looked past Mike and saw me standing there with Hanni. “No dog,” he said.
“It’s a Seeing Eye dog,” Mike explained. “A service dog.”
“No dog,” the driver said.
Mike was angry. “You’re going to court!” he shouted at the driver
“I don’t care,” the driver said, then sped away.

I was somewhat reluctant to report this second cab driver. Going to court the first time was not fun, and I didn’t want to have to go back. But I filed anyway. I figured if word got around that drivers were getting fined for refusing service dogs, maybe I wouldn’t have to file any more complaints after this one.

Good news arrived in our mailbox this week. I guess this second guy pleaded guilty?

re: CSR#07-01972211
DOAH docket number: 08CS00267A

Dear Beth Finke:
This letter is the final update of the Department of Consumer Services investigation of the prosecution of the cab driver you reported for investigation. The Department of Consumer Services (the Department) investigated your complaint, and…the cab driver was found liable of violating the municipal code of Chicago. Accordingly, fines and penalties were imposed on the cab driver.
Thank you for reporting this cab driver…your participation is assisting the departmen’ts goal towards 100% clean and safe cabs and 100% courteous and safe cab drivers.

Sometimes the things you wish for really do come true. Hanni and I never did have to go to court to testify against that second driver, and we haven’t had a cab driver refuse us since I filed that second complaint.

Last Wednesday Hanni and I took a commuter train to St. Pius X — a Catholic School in the Chicago suburbs. my nephew Ben’s kids go there, their great aunt came to talk and answer questions for Riley, Haley, Colin and their schoolmates. And then yesterday Hanni and I boarded a commuter train again, this time I talked to kids at the West Suburban Montessori School in Oak Park.

The questions kids ask from school to school vary, but whether we’re at a city school, a country school, a public school, whatever, one thing they all want to know is this: how old is Hanni? The answer always gets the same response from the audience– Eight-year-olds squeal with joy to discover Hanni is the same age they are.

Sometimes the kids want to know how old she is in human years, too. Turns out the idea that every dog year equals seven human years is a myth. Hanni is not 56 in human years yet. Not according to a converter on a Flat- Coated Retriever site, at least.

“To work out the human age of a dog or other pets many people will multiply their age by seven years. This is not that accurate, as differing breeds of dogs will age at differing rates. For example, many smaller breeds of dogs such as a west highland terrier will live well into their late teens, whilst larger dogs may only live to about ten years. “

Did you catch that “whilst” word in there? That website is from Britain, and my talking computer reads it using a robotic British accent. It’s like having Michael Caine at my fingertips. Imagine.

But back to dog years. The site points out that dogs mature quickly in their early years – a medium-sized dog (Hanni weighs 63 pounds) will be 14 human years by their first birthday, a two-year-old dog her size is the equivalent of a 21-year-old human. No wonder Hanni was so goofy when I met her. She was about to turn 21!

Thereafter for every actual year, add on…5 years for a medium dog breed or 7 years for a large dog breed.

Big dogs age faster? I’ll stick with calling Hanni a medium-size dog. That means she’s 51 in human years.

Hanni and I don’t have any more school visits scheduled for this academic year — our upcoming events are more for grown-ups. At each of these, I plan to announce this new calculation of Hanni’s age in human years. We’ll see if all the 51-year-olds squeal with the same exuberance those eight-year-olds do.

Move over Marlee. Flo is back.

After spending a month last winter in the hospital mending from cracked ribs and a fractured pelvis, my mom celebrated her 92nd birthday doing what she loves: dancing.

Flo fell in her apartment in December. She went through rehab at the hospital, then had a physical therapist come to the house for a while. Since then, she’s been rehabbing on her own, going through the exercises prescribed by the physical therapist every day, and adding a bit more on her own. One day she would take a couple steps with her walker, the next she’d head down to get her mail by herself. She figured out how to get down the hall with a walker to do her laundry, how to take the garbage out, how to get outside on her own when my sistr Cheryl came by to help her run errands.

Last weekend, Flo joined us in Louisville to celebrate her birthday. She danced. Both Friday and Saturday nights. A highlight: on Friday night a complete stranger approached and asked her to the dance floor. She is still beaming. “He was a good dancer!”

Note: one does not have to be able to see to tell if someone else is beaming. You can feel it in the air.

My dog did not join Flo on the dance floor –Hanni has two left feet. Hanni did honor Flo when we all got back to the hotel, though. I shared a hotel bed with Flo, and when the belle of the ball climbed into bed next to me Saturday night, she couldn’t help but boast. “Hanni is sleeping on my side of the bed tonight,” Flo whispered.

I wasn’t surprised. Hanni has a nose for talent.

Hanni and I are doing a book signing at Women and Children First Bookstore on Wednesday morning, December 5. The store is in a terrific north-side Chicago neighborhood called Andersonville.
Mike, Hanni and I live on the south side of Chicago. The last time I went to Women and Children First, I took a cab. The beautiful thing about cabs: if they pick you up (see my blog post about a cab driver who refused Hanni) they let you off right in front of where you need to go. The ugly thing about cabs: they can cost an arm and a leg. It cost me over $20 to get to Women and Children First, for example.
This time, I figure, I’ll take a bus.
Truth is, Hanni and I rarely take Chicago buses by ourselves. I’m not afraid of much, but the fears I have are strong. One of my fears: falling into the laps of strangers. If a bus takes off before I find a seat, we’re doomed,
I can’t see the handles to grab onto for balance.
Knowing this fear of mine, Mike agreed to help us on a dry run yesterday. It went swimmingly.
First off, the bus was empty. Nary a lap to fall into. Even better: the bus driver waited for us to find a seat before he took off. Heaven.
A recorded voice called out the streets as we passed. To those of you who wonder whether blind people have a heightened sense of hearing, I’ll admit that after one announcement I told Mike I had no idea Chicago had a street called Killer.
“It’s Schiller,” he said.
I laughed. The ride was fun, really. I mean, once you’re seated, what’s to worry about? Chicagoans climbed on and off, a lot were chatting to each other, most of them seemed happy.
And no one fell into my lap.
After 45 minutes – Chicago is a BIG city — the recorded voice called out “Foster!” I grabbed Hanni’s harness, pointed to the front door, and commanded “Forward!” She led me perfectly, stopping at the top of the step down so I wouldn’t fall.
Women and Children First is two blocks north of Foster, Mike said. I turned north, commanded “Forward! and Hanni and I were off. When we got close to the door to Women and Children First, Mike stepped ahead. “It’s right here!” he said. Hanni went to him, sticking her nose under the doorknob. “Good girl!” I exclaimed, repeating that over and over while leaning down to pet the bejeezus out of her. Her tail was wagging with such enthusiasm that it brushed my face. We went inside, warmed up for a bit, then headed out again to circle back to the bus stop.
The second time, we let Hanni lead completely. When we got close to Women and Children First I started calmly and quietly repeating the direction she should be looking. “Right,” I said, pointing ever so slightly in that direction. “Right. Right. Right.” Sure enough, she walked right to the correct doorknob. Again the effusive exclamations, again the tail wagging. “Good girl, Hanni!” I know we’ll find our way on December 5.
It was a great afternoon. To reward ourselves, we ducked into a tavern/restaurant called Hop Leaf. Everyone we know who has ever gone to Hop Leaf gushes about it; finally it was our turn to give it a try. It did not disappoint. Mike and I enjoyed Belgian beer as we shared steamed mussels –Hot Leaf’s specialty.
The bus ride home was a cinch. No strange laps were disturbed.
Hanni’s bedtime treat that night was bigger than usual. We made it, I told her. Safe & sound.

It’s official. Hanni and I are dogblog maivens. Another dogblogger blogged about us today.
Here’s the skinny: A woman named Mary Ellen was at the presentation Hanni and I gave earlier today at the Old Orchard Barnes & Noble in Skokie, Illinois.
Turns out Mary Ellen is the Executive Director and co-founder of “Sit Stay Read! Inc.” SIT STAY READ is a Chicago-based volunteer literacy organization that brings dogs and kids together to make reading fun. Mary Ellen’s dog Shandy is one of Chicago’s first Sit Stay Read dogs, and they dogblog about their experiences on the Shandy at Work dogblog.
The Sit Stay Read web site explains the program like this: “Reading aloud is a critical component of early childhood literacy. Children who have difficulty reading have an especially hard time reading aloud in front of peers and adults. SIT STAY READ programs allow children to read aloud to specially trained therapy dogs. The dogs increase confidence and generate excitement.”
After our presentation this afternoon, Mary Ellen asked if Hanni and I might want to be Guest Readers/Listeners at a Sit Stay Read school program in Chicagoland sometime. “Our kids would be thrilled to hear you,” Mary Ellen said. They’ve had opera singers, firefighters, poets and other professionals as guests. “You and Hanni would be a wonderful addition.”
Hanni and I would love to give this a try. It was great to meet Mary Ellen at the bookstore today, and we look forward to meeting Shandy in the future. In the meantime, we’ll keep track of them by reading their dogblog.