Coming and Going

Tammy’s lucky; she does some of her work from home, with me sitting comfortably under her desk, but even so I’m at the office with her several times a month for meetings, and stuff. “Off to work” means going on the train, and that means having other people want to pet me. It can also mean a substantial wait, so it would be nice to have a treat or smoky bone along to gnaw on.
Sometimes we take a bus, and Tammy has to think ahead to the bus stop: will there be a shelter, or will we be at the mercy of Vancouver’s mercurial elements? Tammy’s not very waterproof, but I love the rain! People should just learn to appreciate the smell of wet golden retriever…

Sometimes we go to the gym; and I can see people trying not to stare (at me or Tammy, I don’t really know which – maybe both of us!) but since we’re surrounded by mirrors, their efforts are both pitiful and funny. Sometimes I flirt with them in the mirrors, to see whether I can make them break their funny stretching poses, but usually I just ignore them and go about my own business. And sometimes Tammy gets to show up an ‘upright’, (her term for those of you who are able-bodied.) I think she likes to throw a monkey wrench into those preconceived notions of what a person with a disability can accomplish. It’s fun to see and I know she doesn’t gloat.

Tammy’s had 39 years to develop the sense of humour that helps her deal with the attitudinal and systemic barriers that still prevail. That sense of humour lets her get away with calling me the ‘fluffy blonde’ – even though I’m one of the tools that help her with those barriers! (Well, I am blonde, and after my bath, I’m fluffy, too. So I guess that’s ok.

Tour With A City Planner

So we took this city planner around town…

The idea was to show him first-hand some of the barriers faced by people with limited mobility. Since Tammy uses a wheelchair we figured it would help Mr. City Planner’s appreciation if he used one for the day, too.
Tammy borrowed an old manual chair from PADS compound. I remember that thing from my Puppy-in-Training days; it still smells like my old kennel mates! I know they use it to train dogs like my colleague who pulls his person’s chair, but it has seen better days. (It makes noises that would scare me if I was riding in it without a harness.)
The brakes worked, which was good because our city has some BIG hills.
But one of the foot pedals fell off and needed a quick duct-tape fix-up; we were all undaunted so we did the tour anyway. Mr. City Planner thought he’d try one of those hills but wisely reconsidered after giving it a shot.

Now, curb ramps are something most people – two legged and four legged- don’t even notice but Tammy has to, and so did I.
And there were lots of spots where the curb ramps were either non-existent or covered in gravel due to minor sidewalk repairs. Sidewalk repairs are not minor when you have to get a wheelchair across the street, and Mr. Planner soon found that out.

Then we went looking for some civic buildings, the kinds of places that need to be accessible to everybody, and guess what we found? It’s lucky I was along to protect Tammy (& Mr. Planner) because there’s no way she’d have gotten into the police station if she’d needed to in an emergency! They do have an elevator – but Tammy can’t operate it by herself, and neither could anybody else with limited hand or upper-body mobility. Not to mention, I couldn’t fit in there with her – I’d have needed to go on her lap! And I’m BIG!

So then we tried the train station – woof, that’s just crazy! Even I know that you don’t go east to travel west unless you’re piloting a 747! But I guess if you use a wheelchair in THIS town, you have to board at the only station with a working elevator – and you can only access the eastbound platform at that one. So, when Tammy and I go home, (which is west) we get on the east-bound train, ride it across the river into another zone, get off, cross the platform, and board the west-bound train. Only about 45 minutes wasted there… Luckily, Tammy hasn’t been Tasered yet for only having a 2 zone ticket in a 3 zone area…! Mr. Planner seemed to be pretty taken aback by the major pain-in-the-you-know-what our transit accessibility can be in his town.

We went into an old department store too, where in order to get upstairs we had to get someone to page the freight elevator and escort us up. Of course, we know that there are some buildings that probably won’t ever be accessible to people who use wheelchairs – 100-year-old heritage buildings simply weren’t built to accommodate everybody, and that’s a fact of life. But everybody should be able to get into the police station, the library, city hall, public transit, a washroom, city sidewalks…

It’s happening slowly, and I believe that more tours like the one Mr. Planner took are a terrific way to get things moving in the right direction.

RISE 'N SHINE

Tammy’s usually awake by 7:00am, but her day typically begins a bit later. So she has a couple of hours where she needs me to distract her from her full bladder… I do that by nuzzling her face from the side of her bed. She doesn’t let me up on the bed with her – even though that supercilious cat gets to sleep there every night, ahem! – but I get as close as I can. (Sometimes a little too close, I guess, and she growls at me! But I don’t have any more fleas than that cat Rocket! And I know I smell good!)

I can see Tammy planning our day as she lays there waiting for the attendant to get her up: sometimes she talks to herself!

“Are all of my arrangements in place? Transportation, meals, bathroom breaks, cell phone charged, water available…”

“Hey!” I growl, “What about the treat-bag!?”
“Oh yeah, gotta get more doggie treats…” Her list seems endless sometimes, but the day’s accoutrements all need to be ready, and I make it my responsibility to see that she remembers everything. (Even the poop bags, though I don’t see the point.)

Of course we don’t need a full two hours to get our day lined up; so Rocket helps with the distraction angle, too. He keeps her occupied, often by washing her face and hands, kitty style. That’s fine, but sometimes he also heads to the bathroom and flushes the toilet, which I bet really bugs Tammy. You’ve heard of Pavlov’s dog, no doubt: this is more like Tammy’s cat, but the same idea… Bell, food; flush, pee…

I like the attendant, she gets Tammy up so we can be together and do our day. I always answer the door with a big “Good morning!” growly. And she says “Good morning”, to me, too, with pats and hugs. It’s pretty short and sweet, though, because we’ve got to get our day going. And of course, once I’m dressed, it’s all business: no more pats. I don’t even wag my tail…
I watch while Tammy’s hoisted out of bed, and prepared for a shower. It’s part of my job to make sure everything’s done correctly!

Washing and dressing seems like an arduous process. I don’t know why she doesn’t just go with fur, like me, it’s a lot easier! Dressing Tammy is a unique experience each time; it seems her attendants still have difficulty understanding the concept of “left leg” and “right leg” when they’re helping her. I hope they get it soon, because sometimes she looks like a chicken being trussed for dinner.

Anyhow, after she’s dressed, she eats her breakfast, Rocket eats his breakfast, and I eat my breakfast. Then Tammy and I brush our teeth; I get chicken flavoured toothpaste for dogs – mmmmmm! She uses nasty minty stuff, and that cat, who’s thinks his hygiene is impeccable, never gets near a toothbrush! What’s the story there?! So then it’s work at the computer for an hour or so, then I get dressed too, and we all rush out the door.

And so begins another exciting day, and I hear tomorrow we're supposed to take a city planner on a wheelchair tour downtown. Sounds interesting, especially since he doesn't use a wheelchair for mobility...