I had high hopes to sleep during my red-eye flight over most of the United States. The universe had other plans. I caught some snatches of sleep but was interrupted by turbulence and a screaming baby. When I disembarked the plane – no wheelchair that morning – I was cranky and exhausted and wondered what in the world I was doing.

I was met at the airport by a member of the Guiding Eyes staff and was directed to the baggage carousel. When I said I had my backpack and that was it, the response was surprise – this was something that would happen frequently over the next two weeks. But with no baggage to pick up, I was that much closer to my ride, a cup of coffee, and a nap, not necessarily in that order.

I was the first of my class – all four of us – to arrive at Guiding Eyes. I was directed to my room, where I promptly put down my backpack, sprawled out on the bed, and fell asleep for three hours. I connected to the wifi, sent a few emails, and then headed down the hall and up the ramp for lunch, where I met one of my classmates for lunch.

The first time training with a guide dog, I trained in my local environment, so any food that was prepared, I had to either make it myself or eat it in restaurants or coffee shops locally. For years I’ve heard amazing things about the food at guide dog school, and while I was fed and the food wasn’t bad, I felt disappointment that the food was… decent.

After lunch and a chat with my classmate, whose room was right beside mine, I went back to my room and waited for the Juno walk.. with a real dog! Maybe my real new dog?

The first introduction I had to “Juno” was her nose in my crotch. AWKWARD!!! I knew she was a yellow lab female, and that’s it. Everything I said during our entire walk was using the name “Juno” (a standard name used by guide dog schools to indicate a non-specific or – when a trainer is simulating a dog’s movements – a non-existent dog).

“Juno, forward.”

She was off like a rocket. She pulled like a tank.

“Juno, left.”

She took the turn smoothly at a wide angle; I was used to Jenny’s turn-on-a-dime style.

She was smart and quick and eager to please, and I was a teeeeeeensy bit smitten.

I learned very quickly with “Juno” that I’d let my body posture get sloppy. With Jenny, I could move in whatever ways I felt comfortable, and they’d communicate to her; Jenny and I knew each other. I could move my right wrist only slightly and she’d make a turn; “Juno” required fuller movements. Jenny didn’t mind my being right beside her; “Juno” required a bit more space. We tried different harness handles, and the walk was both exhausting and exhilarating, and I wanted more than anything for “Juno” to be my match.

After the “Juno” walk, as my other classmates arrived, we all settled in, ate dinner, and turned in early. I was exhausted. All I could think about was a smart yellow lab with inconsistent boundary issues, and how much I could sleep that night while I fretted about bonding with a new dog while Jenny hung out at home.

I need not have worried:

Dear diary…
I was so sad when my mom left yesterday without me and I don’t know where she went, and she wasn’t there this morning either.
Then my bestest friend came over and took me out for the day, we went to his house where I got tons of cuddles and belly rubs and played in the snow.
Then we went on another car ride and some long walks and went to a great coffee shop that serves puppuchinos, we met another friend and then went to a school where I met a bunch of small humans who thought I was awesome.
A little girl gave me liver treats and I showed her how well I could follow directions, and then we had a cuddle and a nap on the couch before I went home and played with my new little brother until we both had to lie down for a rest.
I still miss my mom, but sure have some great friends.
Is this called retirement ?
I was exhausted.