Yesterday--July 4th--Gracie and I gave in to Bruce's burning desire to ride the bus downtown to the Twins game. The game was scheduled to start at 1:00 p.m., so a little before noon, we drove to the corner of 44th and France to catch the bus. Gracie was excited to put on her hearing dog vest and get in the car. When the bus came, she marched on like this was something we did every day. Without a pause, she jumped up on the seat next to me after I sat down and put her head in my lap. The temperature was in the high eighties and the air-conditioned bus as comfortable.
This was Gracie's 4th Twins game, and she was very comfortable with the whole procedure: walking through the downtown to the stadium, pausing to use a small patch of grass in front of the stadium to relieve herself, walking through the turnstile, navigating the crowd, walking down the steps to the our seats, slipping by the people in our row to reach our seats, and finally settling on the rug under my seat. The stadium was packed and noisy, but Gracie went right into "dog sleep" after a quick drink from her portable water bowl.
Unlike the last game we attended, the Twins played well and won. Gracie lasted the whole game and, thankfully as it was hot, never needed to sit in my lap.
The bus ride home was more crowded than the bus ride there. Luckily, we were able to slip into a seat in the front of the bus. In the past, we have had to stand up most of the ride back on the bus, and I wasn't sure how Gracie would like this. Not much, I suspect. It's nice to know that we can ride the city bus without a problem. Bruce pointed out that the bus has a special fare for the handicapped that applies at all times. Handicapped. I check that box at work though I have not asked the college for anything more than a volume control on my shared office phone--no longer needed with the new phone upgrade that actually emails phone messages that I can then listen to with my digital headphones (and even then can't always make out because people tend to talk too fast when leaving a voice mail message, particularly when leaving phone numbers). Still, even with a hearing dog, I have a hard time believing that I am handicapped. Maybe it's the symbol: a wheelchair. Maybe we need to revisit the symbol to include an eye and an ear and a hand etc. It could look something like the interfaith symbol. That is something to work on anyway. Maybe everyone is handicapped (or "differently abled" in its less clear but more politically correct incarnation). I can see now why a special I.D. is required--like the handicapped parking sticker.
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| Thank goodness it's July 5! |
This was Gracie's 4th Twins game, and she was very comfortable with the whole procedure: walking through the downtown to the stadium, pausing to use a small patch of grass in front of the stadium to relieve herself, walking through the turnstile, navigating the crowd, walking down the steps to the our seats, slipping by the people in our row to reach our seats, and finally settling on the rug under my seat. The stadium was packed and noisy, but Gracie went right into "dog sleep" after a quick drink from her portable water bowl.
Unlike the last game we attended, the Twins played well and won. Gracie lasted the whole game and, thankfully as it was hot, never needed to sit in my lap.
The bus ride home was more crowded than the bus ride there. Luckily, we were able to slip into a seat in the front of the bus. In the past, we have had to stand up most of the ride back on the bus, and I wasn't sure how Gracie would like this. Not much, I suspect. It's nice to know that we can ride the city bus without a problem. Bruce pointed out that the bus has a special fare for the handicapped that applies at all times. Handicapped. I check that box at work though I have not asked the college for anything more than a volume control on my shared office phone--no longer needed with the new phone upgrade that actually emails phone messages that I can then listen to with my digital headphones (and even then can't always make out because people tend to talk too fast when leaving a voice mail message, particularly when leaving phone numbers). Still, even with a hearing dog, I have a hard time believing that I am handicapped. Maybe it's the symbol: a wheelchair. Maybe we need to revisit the symbol to include an eye and an ear and a hand etc. It could look something like the interfaith symbol. That is something to work on anyway. Maybe everyone is handicapped (or "differently abled" in its less clear but more politically correct incarnation). I can see now why a special I.D. is required--like the handicapped parking sticker.
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