emma and company - Sheila Hocken

by Emma

  found my bedroom. There it was with its old braille number

  on. Luckily it was unoccupied so i could go in and sit on the

  bed. i imagined someone else sitting there, being introduced

  to the little chocolate puppy I'd brought, and i hoped it would

  gyive them freedom. i don't.mind admitting that, as Betty and

  i drove away and i looked back on the house, it was a very

  misty picture i saw through my tears. It had brought back so

  many memories, both of pain and happiness, but most of all of

  Emma. Emma as a young dog. A sprightly little Labrador

  who would bounce up and down at my door waiting for me to

  put the harness on so she could take me out. She was always so

  keen to get wherever we were going, she was always wanting

  to learn new places and new tricks. i remembered how both

  Emma and i would look forward to our dinner-time walks in

  the forest near where i worked: once I'd let Emma off the

  harness I'd hear her paws scudding on the grass as she ran

  backwards and forwards to fetch me sticks and things to throw

  for her, coming back every moment or so to touch me with her

  nose to tell me that she was still there. Then i thought of

  Bracken and Buttons and their young days. They'd never be

  guide-dogs but at least one of their puppies had gone to be one

  and that made me feel very good inside.

  42

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ONE THURSDAY EVENING Deirdre arrived to collect her

  puppy. She was carrying a little basket to put him in. At six

  weeks old, he was very small. I'd nicknamed him Gingerfoot

  because he had some mismarking on his paws. Instead of

  being all chocolate, he had ginger bits.

  'Have you told John?' i asked as soon as she walked

  through the door.

  'No, i haven't. He's not in this evening. He won't be

  back until about half-past-eleven. Don't worry, he'll be all

  right.'

  'I am worried though. i really don't feel you've done the

  right thing.'

  'You know he wouldn't let me have a puppy,' she told

  me. 'I've been asking him for years and i just feel that I've

  reached the stage now where i really need one. You know

  Katherine's going away, don't you?'

  'Yes, she's starting university soon, isn't she?'

  The house will be so lonely without her. i feel the need

  for something small and cuddly to love. i want something

  to be at home that needs me.'

  i well understood her feelings. i packed a diet sheet,

  Gingerfoot's pedigree and some food for him, and she put

  him into the basket. She was smiling all over her face as she

  walked down the drive.

  'Bye, Sheila. Don't 'Worry, it'll be all right.'

  But I couldn't help worrying. i sat in front of the

  television that night but didn't see anything that was on. i

  couldn't stop thinking about what would happen when

  John arrived home. When the last programme finished i was

  still sitting there. i looked across at Don. 'John'll be home

  by, now, won't he? The phone hasn't rung. Nobody's come

  43

  OTT"

  rl~ll,

  to the front door.' It was a quarter to twelve. 'Do you think we

  should sit up a little longer in case he brings the puppy back?'

  'No, he won't bring the puppy back. You know whatjohn

  is, he really loves dogs.'

  i knewjohn did. He was always coming to see the puppies

  and making a fuss of my dogs and cats. He was really an old

  softy, and i couldn't understand why he'd been so firm about

  not letting Deirdre have a puppy. But i still went to bed that

  night with a feeling of foreboding. When nine o'clock came

  the next morning, i was beginning to relax. Then the front

  doorbell rang. I opened the door to see Deirdre standing

  there, the puppy in the basket, tears streaming down her face.

  'Oh, Deirdre, what's happened, what's the matter?'

  'John!'she said. 'He won't let me have him. He's made me

  bring him back. He told me that i must ask him first.'

  I felt so upset, not only for Deirdre but for the puppy, who'd

  had one night in another home and then had to be brought

  back to his mum. When i put him down next to Buttons, he

  looked startled and surprised. He didn't quite know what to

  do.

  'Couldn'tyou persuadchim?'I said to Deirdre.'lt seems so

  terrible.'

  'No, i can't. If he says i can't have one, i can't and that's it,'

  she sobbed. 'It's no good, i must respect his wishes.'

  She spoke very highly ofjohn, even at that moment. I felt

  very bitter towards him. i wanted to ring him up and tell him

  what i really thought of him. How could he do this to his wife,

  his lovely wife who thought the world of him and would do

  anything he asked? And so respected him that she'd even

  bring the puppy back, the puppy that she'd picked from the

  day he was born and had so loved over the six weeks she'd been

  to see him? There were no smiles this time as Deirdre left the

  house and went down the drive. She could hardly say a word. i

  heard her slam the car door and the engine start. When Don

  came in for his lunch, it upset me to tell him what had

  happened. He could hardly believe it.

  'It would be difrerent if he didn't like dogs,' i said to Don,

  'but he does. i can't understand him.'

  ME

  44

  'Well, you know what John is,' Don told me. 'He likes to

  be the man of his house.'

  'He is!' i said. 'He must realize that or Deirdre wouldn't

  have brought the puppy back, would she? She would have

  ignored him.'

  i spent the whole of Friday really hatingjohn and vowing

  that I'd never speak to him again, nor let him come and see

  our puppies in the future. i couldn't understand how anyone

  could be so cruel. You can imagine how i felt when, early on

  Saturday morning, the doorbell rang and i opened the door

  to see John. Luckily for me, i was speechless at seeing him

  there or i might have said something i would have later

  regretted. Then i noticed the basket in his hand that Deirdre

  had fetched and brought the puppy back in. i was astonished. '

  Yes?' i said to him coldly. 'What do you want?'

  ' I've come for the puppy,' he told me cheerfully. Scan

  followed him in.

  'What do you mean, you've come for the puppy?'

  'I've relented. She can have the puppy. Where is he? I'll

  take him straight back.'john was all smiles and cheerfulness

  as he fetched the puppy from Buttons. Scan, in the

  meantime, took me in the lounge and whispered, 'Mum's

  been so upset about it. She couldn't eat anything yesterday. i

  think she spent all night up pining for him. She so loves him

  you know.'

  'Yes, i know,' i told him. 'Why has your Dad changed his

  mind?'

  'I think he realized how much Mum wanted that puppy.

  He didn't understand before, and it's not that he doesn't like

  dogs, you know. He does. He wanted to be the one to make

  the decision to have a puppy, that's all.'

  'He will love him,' i asked
Scan, 'won't he? He will look

  after him? He won't resent him, will he?'

  'Goodness me, no,' Scan said. 'You mark my words,

  Dad'll be as daft as a brush with that dog.'

  Sure enough, as John came back into the lounge with the

  puppy cuddled in his arms, he was whispering into his ear,

  telling him what a lovely home he was going to.

  45

  Most of Buttons' litter had been given away to friends.

  That was reassuring because i knew they were all going to be

  looked after and loved. Betty, my friend round the corner,

  had one. John and Deirdre, of course. And one had gone in

  the hopes of being a guide-dog. The other three were found

  homes locally so i could keep an eye on them. They were all

  like children to me. I don't mean that I'm sentimental about

  dogs, but i do care what happens if i sell a puppy. There are

  so many uncared for dogs, so many dogs left to roam the

  streets. It's not difficult when people come to buy puppies to

  assess whether they'll logk after their dog or not. Of course,

  we can always be wrong, but in most cases i can tell whether

  a prospective owner will really care for their dog or not. i

  give as much help and advice as i possibly can and always

  tell my owners to take their dogs to a Dog Training Club.

  From lack of knowledge, people aren't able to train their

  dogs. A trained dog - and its owner of course - is so much

  happier. i don't think I've ever yet seen a miserable working

  dog, and my own experiences with Emma tell me that a dog

  loves to work. Emma really enjoyed having her harness on

  and looked forward to taking me out every morning. Of

  course, she was a guide-dog and she needed me as much as i

  needed her. She taught me an awful lot about dogbehaviour.

  If i respected her wishes, she respected mine. If a

  dog is treated with respect and intelligence then you can't go

  far wrong.

  In all the years that Emma and i worked together, i only

  remember one occasion when she didn't want to take me out.

  It was ajanuary evening and on reaching home from work

  we were both wet through and very cold. It was slecting and

  a gale was blowing outside. As soon as Emma had eaten her

  dinner - that was always the first thing i did when i came in

  from work, my tea had to wait - she settled herself in front of

  the gas fire, curled up and went to sleep. i had a talk to give. i

  went out quite a lot in those days to various organizations,

  such as Wls and Townswomen's Guilds, to give talks about

  guide-dogs. i felt it was my way, not only of helping the

  Association to raise money, but also of showing how

  46

  independent and worthwhile a blind person's life coul

  was always fighting the battle for equality. Because

  blind, most people thought i was unable to do ajob of

  and probably that i was deaf as well because i was a

  shouted at when i arrived at my venue. It was

  important part of my life with Emma, and this part

  evening i had a talk out of Nottingham which me~t

  catching a bus into town from where i lived, going ill

  bus station and taking another bus out again. i had a

  bite to cat, put my coat back on and began feell

  Emma's harness - always the signal for Emma to

  rushing to the front door and bounce around in excite

  But this time there was no response! 'Emma,' i calle

  still didn't come. i became quite worried. i went bac

  the lounge and felt in front of the gas fire. There she A,

  asleep, snoring her head off. i gave her a little tap.

  'Emma, we must go out. We have a talk.'

  Emma loved going on talks. She'd race to the bus sic

  be first on the bus. She knew that once we arrived sh(

  lots of people to admire her and say how brilliant sli

  This time she never stirred. i began to think she was il

  her nose: that was nice and cold. Her paws and her car

  warm. (That's always a sign of good health with a do

  'Emma, come on,' i said, 'quickly. We must catc

  bus.'

  She put her head up and nuzzled me with her n

  don't want to come,' was what she was telling me, a

  her head down again.

  'I'm sorry, Emma. i know it's awful out there

  really have to go.'

  i always talked to Emma the same as i would a pc

  think this is one of the reasons why we had such

  relationship. i treated her as a human being and i re

  believe she thought she was one. Eventually i mana

  persuade her that we were going out. i put her harne

  collar and lead on and walked down the path. The sle

  biting into my face. i had my hood well wrapped rou

  ears and my eyes closed against the stinging rain and

  47

  i

  If there's one thing that puts a bl i rid person ofydirection, it's

  a howling gale. i really had to listen to where i was going,

  apart from remembering how many kerbs to cross and where

  to give Emma the instructions for going right or left. It's a

  partnership when you work with a guide-dog. - I can only

  equate it to driving a car - neither one is any good without

  the other. It was easy to get to the bus stop. I only had to

  cross one intersection and turn left at the next, then it was

  about twenty paces up the road. i didn't seem to have

  crossed an intersection and i felt sure that i should have got

  to it by now.

  'Emma, find the bus stop,' i repeated, just as a reminder.

  But she didn't. After about ten minutes of walking, she

  stopped and sat down. i put my hand out to feel the bus stop

  but it wasn't there. i was back at my own garden gate.

  Emma had taken me the full circle round the block, back

  home again.

  'That won't do,' i told her. 'Look, i know you don't want

  to go out and i know it's terribly cold but all those ladies are

  sitting there waiting for us to appear and we can't let them

  down.'

  As if appealing to her better nature had made her think

  again, she got up and went back up the road. We had crossed

  the intersection this time and when we got to the next left

  turn, Emma sat down. i felt sure we hadn't gone far enough.

  It was usually about twenty paces once we'd turned left. It's

  amazing how much you remember as a blind person: how

  many paces to here, how many intersections you've crossed,

  where the bus stops, where shops are - by smell or by sound.

  i put my hand up again. No, i wasn't at the bus stop. i was at

  the letter-box this time, and i knew that was only a few yards

  away from the bus stop. Emma was trying every trick in the

  book to fool me.

  'No, Emma. Find the bus stop.'

  Eventually we made it to the post. My stop was the one

  before the terminus in town, which would leave me near the

  bus station. Emma knew the way, of course. Across the main

  road, under a subway and come out in the bus station and all

  48

  i had to say to her was Mount Street bus station. She knew

  all the three separate bus stations in Nottingham just by

 
name. Once oftthe bus at the allotted place, i told Emma to

  find the kerb and then the subway. Again, i thought it was

  rather strange. We had to cross a major road and then make

  a right turn into the subway. I'd certainly crossed a road but,

  to me, it had only seemed a small one. But who was i to argue

  with Emma? i couldn't see where i was going and there was

  still that terrible howling gale to contend with and, as i said,

  it does put a blind person oiT. i had completely lost my sense

  of direction. But Emma marched on. i could feel her tail

  wagging. Oh good, i thought, she's pleased we're going on a

  talk now she's out. She sat down with great fervour and gave

  a snort. 'Good girl, Emma. Are we in the bus station?'

  'Hello, me duck, are you all right?' It turned out to be a

  bus driver - the bus driver that had brought us into

  Nottingham and dropped us ofra few minutes earlier. He'd

  then turned the bus round into the depot to wait to go back to

  where i lived at Beechdale.

  'Where am i?' i asked him.

  'Well, me duck, you've just got off round the corner. What

  are you doing round here? I'm going back to Beechdale.

  Have you changed your mind?'

  'No, i haven't,' I said. 'I'm supposed to be at Mount

  Street bus station. Emma's changed her mind, she wants to

  go home again.'

  He gave a hearty laugh. 'That dog knows better than we

  do. It's not fit for a dog on a night like this, is it, me duck? Do

  you want any help getting to the bus station?'

  'No,' i said. 'I think she'll admit defeat now. Emma, come

  on, find Mount Street bus station.'

  Emma eventually gave in and we did get to our talk on

  time. We were both very wet and cold but we had a lovely

  warm reception from the ladies and i think they made up to

  Emma for her coming out on that really horrible night.

  49

  CHAPTER SIX

  'I COULD REALLY settle there. Could you?' Don was looking

  over a large 'For Sale' board that jutted out of the hedge to

  Rose Cottage.

  'Of course,' i told him. i could settle anywhere. If there

  were boarding kennels going for sale in the middle of the

  Sahara Desert I'd go. We both desperately wanted to move