by Emma
means oversized. But Ben proved all theories of genetics
wrong. Ben is one of my failures as far as puppy breeding goes.
He reminds me, now i look at him as an adult dog, as
somewhere between a cross doberman and great Dane. He's
not in the slightest bit reminiscent of a chocolate Labrador.
Not that Deirdre andjohn mind, but i most certainly do.
Ben was a very willing pupil. He would do anything to
please ... usually in the middle of the floor. Every week my
buckets and bags came out for Ben, while i pleaded with
Deirdre to take him out on a long walk before she brought him
the next time.
'I did,' she said. 'He won't do it till he gets here.'
That piece of floor that Ben took to every week was
scrubbed, disinfected and polished so well that you could see
i39
it as a clean patch in the hall. It got to be known
~ifrectionately as 'Ben's Patch'.
i found i was getting terribly involved with each dog and
each owner and i was beginning to worry about them. I'd get
in on a Tuesday night and tell Don that i was very worried
about the old English sheepdog who kept leaping out and
trying to bite people. Or about the great Dane whose owners
just could not control him. He had no malice, hejust wanted
to get there quicker than they did. The biggest problem, i
found, was that dogs would behave themselves at the
training club. Often i would borrow dogs from people to
show them how to handle them and how to train them and,
of course, they were then on their best behaviour, but it was
at home or in the parks that they were their naughtiest.
Much as i tried to tell people and show them how to handle
their dogs, once they were out of the training club they both
reverted back to their old selves - just like children who
behave perfectly in the classroom at school, but are little
terrors once they get home.
You can imagine my relief when janeljohnson, a friend of
mine who was handling dogs in the top classes at obedience
shows and knew a lot more about training than i did,
decided that she would take over and start a local Dog
Training Club for both beginners and advanced. It was with
great relief i passed everyone over to her capable hands.
i40
CHAPTER NINETEEN
EMMA HAD CELEBRATED her seventeenth birthday, a
wonderful age for any dog, but life was taking its toll of her.
She had lost her sight and gone deaf, though that didn't
worry her at all and she was still able to enjoy pottering
about the house and garden and look forward, with
Labrador keenness, to her meals. All our young dogs
always treated Emma with awe and reverence and left her
in peace, except Bracken, of course, who always wanted to
be washing her face and escorting her up and down the
garden. The visits from our local vet became more frequent
and more urgent as the illness that Emma was prone to
would take her off her back legs and make her feel very ill.
Even on her good days i often had to help her to stand up,
rub her back legs and escort her into the garden. i hoped
and prayed that her back legs would last her out. It was
impossible for me to imagine our lives without Emma; she
had always been the centre of everything. We circled our
lives and our plans around Emma. We hadn't been on
holiday because we knew Emma was too old to enjoy a
change and to scamper along the sands as she used to do.
Mentally, i divide my life into two sections - before
Emma and with Emma - and the two difrerent lives i led
were worlds apart. i often think back to before Emma when
my life was totally empty. It was a grey world then, a world
without events or future. And often now, when my friends
talk about when they were teenagers, and how much they
enjoyed going to dances, buying make-up or keeping
abreast of the fashions, i only look back with a cold shudder
to the days spent struggling to work and back on my own,
and the evenings of sitting at home and dreaming of dances
and boyfriends by the dozen.
The.ii Emma. A four-legged miracle who stepped into m,
life and changed everything. The world suddenly became my
oyster and i made the iyiost of it. i went e,~-crym-here with
Emma. Because of her i met people. Everyone was kind and
considerate to a blind person with a guide-dog, and nobody
ever complained that Eninia would never take me to the end of
the bus queue but always directly to the bus stop so that she
could be first on the bus and have her choice of seats. They
never grumbled when Enima took me into the big stores and
pushed her way to the counter to get me served first. She
wasn't merely a dog, she was my seeing eyes. She was my best
friend. i suppose, subconsciously, in having the other
Labradors i was looking for another Emma, but i know I'll
never find one. There'd be no dog with such intelligence, such
ingenuity and a sense of humour. The relationship between a
blind person and a guide-dog is so different from that of a pet
dog and its owner. i was never able to force my wishes on
Emma,,& could only persuade her to do things for me and to
ask her if she wouldn't mind. i had learnt, through bitter
experience, that Emma was always right.
i remember when the subways in Nottingham had just
been completed. It was when i was still at work as a
telephonist and every lunchtime we would go out for a walk,
either to do some shopping or to take Emma into the park. i
had finished doing my shopping and was on my way back to
work when Emma suddenly discovered the new subways. She
was thrl lled and took me down and under the tunnel and up
the steps at the other side and stood waiting. Even when you
can see, you lose your sense of direction in a tunnel, but it's
cas,,, once up the other side as you canjust look round and see
where you are. i couldn't. i had to keep my sense of direction
by listening to the traffic, knowing which side ofthe road i was
on, how many kerbs I'd crossed, the texture of pavements, the
smell of shops that we passed. Nearly every shop has its own
distinctive smell - pap(!r shops, fish and chip shops,
greengrocers, draper shops. Well, I'd lost all that down the
tunnel that Emma had taken me, once up the other side, i had
to decide which way to go to get back to work.
i42
'Left,' i told Emma, 'we're going back to work.' But
Emma wanted to go right. 'No,' i said. 'I'm sure it's left.
Go back to work, Emma.' But she still insisted that we go
right. In my mind, i could visualize a butcher's shop on
our right-hand side and was convinced Emma was trying
to persuade me to go into it. 'No, Emma, we'll be late for
work. Go left.'
It was a struggle and we had a bit of an argument about it
but eventually she gave in and turned left. For ten minutes or
so we walked along the pavement and eventually Emma sat
down and refuse
d to move any further. i realized that we
were inside a big building and, much to my astonishment,
after asking a passer-by, i discovered that we were in the
Victoria Shopping Centre which was exactly the opposite
end of town from where i worked. We should have turned
right as Emma had directed in the first place, but she was
always so good-natured about my mistakes. i put my hand
down to stroke her and apologize. She put her nose into it
and i felt her tail brushing my coat. i could just hear her
saying, Well, it's not your fault you're stupid, is it'-' Perhaps
you'll listen in future. Now, we'd better hurry up and get
back to work, you are going to be late.
In all the years that Emma and i were together, she never
ceased to amaze me with her intelligence. i remember going
to give a talk one evening, which entailed catching a bus out
of Nottingham to a little village where i was to talk to some
ladies In the WI at St Mary's Church Hall. As luck would
have it, I'd caught an earlier bus so there was no one there to
meet me at the bus stop. i decided that, rather than wait, I'd
get directions and go under my own steam. i always enjoyed
proving that, with Emma, i could get anywhere at any time.
So when i heard someone passing, i stopped him and asked
if he could gl-x,e me the directions to St Mary's Church Hall.
'Er, yes, m~. duck. Now then, you see that big sign on that
Esso garage do~-ii there? Well you turn left.'
i thought, Oh dear, he doesn't realize i can't see, and i
felt too embarrassed to tell him. Never mind, I'll let him tell
me and then I'll have to wait for someone else.
i43
'Well, you go left down there and you'll see an oftlicence,
it's bound to have its lights on at this time of night. Well, you
turn right down that corner, and you'll see a big notice
saying St Mary's Church Hall. you can't miss it, my duck.'
He then. patted me on the shoulder. 'It's all right, love, I've
given your dog the directions of how to get there.' And ofl he
went.
i was open-mouthed with astonishment. i knew Emma
was clever, i thought, but that's ridiculous.
Without a moment's hesitation, Emma stood up, trotted
down the road, took the first left then right and walked into
St Mary's Church Hall. i have no idea how she knew. I'm
sure it wasn't from the man's directions. i know Emma was
clever, but I'm sure she could never read notices. i think that
maybe after many years of giving talks and visiting numerous
church halls, she knew where we were going and she
could probably smell that damp, musty smell of wood a mile
away andjust headed for the first collection of ladies that she
could find.
i often find I'm smiling to myself when i have a quiet
moment. My mind lapses back into the past and memories
of Emma flood in. In many ways, she was a very selfcontained
dog. She disliked being treated like a dog and
became mortally offended if strangers came up to her and
threw their arms about her and tried to make a fuss. She
would back off and huff down her nose in disgust. And she
made it quite clear that in our partnership she was
definitely the leader. i shall never forget one incident that
sticks out clearly in my mind of Emma's determination to
be always the boss.
At every kerb, Emma would sit. i would listen for traffic
and she looked. It was only if I couldn't hear anything
coming I gave her the command to cross the road, and if she
still sat there, i knew she could see something. But i had
become over-confident and, going home from work in the
evenings, we had to cross a lot of very quiet side roads. i had
got into the habit of giving Emma the command to go
forward and stepping out into the gutter, expecting that
i44
Emma would be in front of me. She d'dn't like this at all. It
was a challenge to her leadership and she decided that she
would cure me of it. I was anticipating her. i was going first.
i had no right to do that. She was the guide-dog. She must
have given very careful thought to her plan, for one evening i
was waiting to cross the road and all was quiet. 'Forward,' i
told Emma and stepped out immediately. Emma stood up,
stepped a few paces in front of me and then backed off
quickly and sat down with a jerk on the kerb. It had a
wonderful effect on me. i jumped back on to the kerb very
smartly. I thought i was probably going to get run over, but
nothing came. At every kerb, Emma went through this
procedure every time i was stupid enough to step out as i
gave her the command. It only took her two or three days to
cure me completely of the habit.
i must admit that when i look back and think of the things
that Emma did and the kind of dog she was, i find it hard
even to convince myself that a dog could have been so
intelligent. i realized that as Emma grew older and more
prone to her bouts of sickness i would look back to the days
when she was young and full of life and we worked so well
together. How i longed to turn the clock back - not to be
blind again of course, but to have Emma's life over again. A
day never passed without my wishing i could wave a magic
wand and make her three again.
It was 29th November, a Sunday. i usually look forward
to Sundays as it's my lie-in day, but this particular Sunday I
was going to be busy. Caroline was staying with us for the
weekend and Harold and Betty were due to arrive about
half-past nine to spend the day with us. i leapt out of bed and
groped around, still with my eyes closed, to find something
to wear and went downstairs to let the dogs out and put the
kettle on. So far, everything was as it should be on a Sunday
morning, everything was normal. I felt for the four teabags to
put in the pot, still with my eyes half closed and not really
awake. Having made the tea and let the dogs in, i went back
upstairs to see if Caroline, Don and Kerensa were awake.
Half-wa-,- upstairs, Kerensa called to ask if I'd made the tea
i
i45
i
and i heard Caroline getting out of bed. At that point,
everything about Sunda-~, 29th November was still good. i
was looking for~-ard to the day, i was looking forward to
seeing Harold aiid Bett~, again and I'd got a specially large
pork joint (Bett-,,-'s favourite) for dinner. I'd spent Saturday
afternoon baking, and I'd made a lemon meringue pie, a
fruit cake and a ti-ifle with fresh cream on it. We would spend
the day talking about Christmas and planning our New
Year's Eve part.~'. Don and i always have a New Year's Eve
party and Harold and BettNI and Caroline were all planning
to come.
Don was yawning and stretching. i looked over towards
Emma's bed, but she hadn't stirred. Often she needed help
to get out of her bed and had to be carried downstairs. i went
over to her and strok
ed her head.
'Come on, Emma. It's time to get up.' i knew she couldn't
hear me but that didn't stop me talking to her. It was a
lifetime's instinct. i still wasn't worried - often Emma wasn't
keen to wake up. She liked to have a lie-in in the morning and
as an old-age pensioner it was her right. i went back
downstairs to pour the tea, took them all a cup and went
back to Emma. i stroked her again. 'Emma, come on. You
are lazy this morning.' She didn't move, not at all. i
automatically slid my hand down on to her chest. i could feel
her heart beating. i lifted her head gently. There was still no
reaction. i was trying to stop the voice in my head that was
screaming by telling myself not to panic.
'Will you carry Emma downstairs?' i asked Don, trying to
sound as calm as possible, 'while i ring the vet.' i tried not to
sound hysterical as i told the vet it was an emergency Emma -
and would he come immediately.
Don laid Emma on a thick blanket in the lounge ",bile i
filled a hot-water bottle and found another blanket to cover
her up with. This was all done in silence. Caroline came
downstairs. She could tell something was wrong.
'What's the matter with you two' Aren't you talking this
morning?' She put her head round the lounge door and saw
Emma. '0h!' Caroline immediately assessed the situation
i46
and realized that what i needed was calmness, not panic.
'Is there anything i can do, Shella.' Do you want me to
put the i)reakfast on? Are Harold and Betty coming for
breakfast" She carried on a non-stop conversation to keep
my mind occupied. 'Do you want me to feed the cats for
you?'
'No thaiiks, Caroline, I'll do that. It'll give me something
to do instead of standing here looking out of the window,
waiting for the vet.'
i walked up and down the garden like a zombie carrying
the empty cat bowls, washing them, refilling them with food.
Probably that's the only morning i'x,e never talked to my
cats. i was at the top of the garden when i heard the vet's car
pull up. i dropped the cats' food and ran back down the
garden to open the front door. i motioned to him to come in,
without actually speaking. He followed me into the lounge