Plodding on seven years later, I often wonder if our little Minster Munch knows that his harness wearing days will not be forever. Our working life together will cease anytime within the next 21 months when he will have to retire. I, on the other hand, have a mere 21 years until I retire. It is a possibility that I could be matched with 3 more Guide Dogs in my working life, each one bringing their own quirks and perks.
Revisiting my naivety of what I thought life with a Guide Dog would be like always makes me cackle and cringe in equal measure. Firstly, I thought life changes would be subtle, my Guide Dog would listen at all times, and I would never have to apologise for our behaviours. Hmmmm, that didn’t go quite to plan. From day one together, everyone noticed the unusual Shetland pony sized Guide Dog that appeared in our relatively small town. Minster Munch made it clear that he only completed his 20 months of training to be able to become my master and train me into conformity via his cuteness. His behaviour throughout our time together can be categorised anywhere between attention seeking and driven, but always professional when in work mode.
I was asked this week by a 6 year old client if Munch knew if he was a Guide Dog and not a pet dog? I flummoxed an incoherent answer back, stating that “I think he just thinks he is just Munch, and when he puts his harness on, he just does Guide Dog stuff”. On reflection, I think this is truer than I originally thought. Munch, in all honesty believes everyone is his friend (or sometimes staff member), has unconditional love for every species, and is free spirited enough to be in love with living life his own innocent way. A human concept of a dog can never truly honour their ability to innately help and enhance the lives of those around them.
We are due for a review in the next couple of weeks to see how our partnership is getting on and how our little Munch is doing in his Guide Dog role. He will be checked over more regularly by the vets from now on to see how his health is doing, and I will be closely monitoring his energy levels and eagerness as he slips into his work harness daily. At the age of nine, his younger doggy friends are beginning to run a little faster than him as his paws pound the ground during free runs, but each day, he still shows up wanting to play. Focusing on the beauty of the now. Munch is being as Munchish as ever, which I am eternally grateful for. Nothing lasts forever, but now is good enough for us
Mention the word disability to ten different people, and they will all have different opinions on what that means to them and those around them. Some will identify with the word, some will not, some will have ideas about what disability means to them that you had never considered.
Going on one definition of disability , it suggests that disability is “having a physical or mental impairment. The impairement has a substantial and long -term adverse effect on their ability to carry out normal day -to -day activites”. During my time working with children and families over the last 28 years , I have heard people describe minor health inconveniences as disabilities and often wondered where their own definition came from. Others who have had significant adverse health issues that impact every waking moment of their lives, reject the disabled label with passion. The complexity of such a topic is guaranteed to bring up strong opinions either side of the disability line.
The reason for writing this, is as a reflection from a conversation I had with someone who asked if I considered being blind an “actual disability.”.What was interesting was that this comment came from a retired optician, which to me seemed quite comical. Clearly an optician who had used her “good enough” sight during her years of practice to assess patients with sight loss did not not really understand what it would be like to have limited or no sight as a constant companion. We had a really interesting chat about perception of impact on life of disability and how that differed greatly among individuals. She told me a story about a lady in her 70’s who had failing sight who could no longer shop alone due to not being able to see prices, labels etc and needing to rely on others to do her shopping. The retired optician told me that it was stories like that, that got her emotional in her old job yet she saw me in a different light.
When we chatted about me having sight loss from birth, yet still going through the educational system with no help and still achieving Masters degree level qualifications after finding alternative ways of doing things, she couldn’t work out how that was possible. When she heard that I was working a full time and part time job, volunteering, had written a book, look after my grandchildren and still live an independent life whilst being registered Severly Sight Impaired (the old blind register) she asked if I thought of myself as actually disabled? The answer is far from straight forward.
I hate to admit it, but there is quite a lot of things I cannot do in life. I cannot see some cars, let alone drive. I probably wouldn’t be called upon to help recognize a person in a line-up as I can’t see a person. Becoming a tour guide may not be my strongest career potential either , as I cannot see my surroundings. What I can do however, is do things my way. When I think of words to describe myself, disabled is not really a word which jumps out at me to be chosen, but in other people eyes , I suppose I am. Being born with Marfan Syndrome has brought about far more disabling complications than being blind has. I have had numerous injuries and reconstructive and other surgeries from life with a connective tissue disorder, yet Marfan Syndrome itself is not a stand alone disability, yet being blind (which is omnipresent but not always an issue) is classed as a disability.
I often forget that I cannot see as I have no alternative frame of reference. Seeing some blurs and blobs from birth is normal to me. Using sound, methods of elimination, touch and intuition gives me all I need to know about the world. To me, it seems weird that people use their eyes alone to short cut their way to interpreting the world we co-exist in. So when I am asked if I have a disability, the rebel in me sometimes wants to resist ticking the box to a label that I don’t always feel I fit in. Other times, I want to proudly wave the flag that disabled people are often the most fiercely amazing people that you will ever meet.
Measuring your disabilities or abilities against another person’s definition, is not always simple. Sometimes you fit, other times you don’t. What matters to me is what you do with the identification of being disabled. Personally, I love that it keeps me motivated to find creative ways to meet everyday challenges, and I never have the chance to get bored. Being born with sight loss into the sighted world, which is not the most welcoming or accommodating, may not be ideal, but it neither has to be impossible.
As Munch awaits patiently to turn 9 tomorrow on the 18th December, where he will be showered with love, gifts and possibly a treat or ten, I find myself reflecting back on our last seven years together in our Guide Dog partnership.
When he trotted into my life at 23 months full of charisma and cheek, I wondered what it would be like when he would grow older and wiser. Seven years on, and he may have grown older but the wiser..? … maybe not. He seems as healthy today as he was when we met. He runs like a pup, explores new places in total awe, gets the Zoomies at least once a day, meets everyone with his helicopter tail, and will sit his six stone self on anyone’s lap regardless if they want it or not.
Luckily, he has not shown any sign of slowing down as he grows gracefully towards his senior years. After his operation a little while back to remove a fatty lump, he seems to bouncing back stronger than ever. What follows is my nine favourite memories with this sprightly ageless Labradoodle that I have had the pleasure of sharing over the years.
Always biting off more than he can chew
Munch always thinks big and enjoys getting himself in situations that he usually needs rescuing from. From getting stuck in mud, getting stuck under the same hotel bed ….3 times…. , to instigating a speedy rescue operation from a London Park after a minor injury accompanied with major dramatic acting skills, life is never dull.
Being the leader of our pack
Whilst out and about, you will always find Munch leading out in front of us all. With four adult children and three grandchildren, our pack needs a leader, and Munch is the dog for the job. Slightly led by ego, but mainly by pride, our sashaying warrior is always happy to lead us astray. One of his favourite places to guard us s under a table at a restaurant. He heroically leaps at a dropped chip and devoures it , just incase it causes injury to us. Well that is what he will lead you to believe anyway.
Being the eyes in our relationship
Now, Munch’s vocabulary has increased over our time together and recognises many words in the usual shops we visit. Even when the shops move the layout around, Munch can sniff out certain items such as cheese, bread, treats and crisps to name but a few. Unfortunately, I am still waiting for him to find the spinach, mangoes, and tomatoes that grace the supermarket aisle, as for some reason, he takes less interest in these products. Strange eh?
He became a hairy author
In 2019, Munch wrote a book with his own four paws. Well maybe I helped a little. What You See When You Can’t See looked at what life is like being blind and how Guide Dogs transform lives in magical ways. With some honest and funny tales of my life pre and post Munch, I wanted to help people have insight into a world that is very different than a sighted person’s life. With Munch being the main star of the show, no tale is left untold. He has graced television shows, been interviewed on radio stations and numerous magazines yet has kept his paws placed firmly on the ground.
He became bilingual
Our little Minster (his official Guide Dog name) Munch, has a Canadian Poodle father and an English Labrador mother and was born in England. Moving to this funny little country, Wales must have been a cultural shock but he has taking it all in his stride. Our strong accents and complex language is not for the faint-hearted , but Munch has picked up our language really well. Working predominantly in Welsh speaking schools , he has learnt instructions such as stairs, door, left, right etc with surprising ease and can follow commands in either language. He has also become a bit of a Welsh rugby fan, which is a bonus for him when the whole family are passionately shouting at the TV when we are playing rugby. If you can’t beat them, join them.
He is my Zen in my Zena
Munch joins me everyday in my meditation practice. Whether I am on my meditation cushion or in my bed, Munch is always by my side listening to tranquil music as he enters his own portal of paradise. If we fit in a sneaky meditation during our lunch hour at work, Munch happily snoozes on top of my feet and radiates the most Zen energy eve. He brings the Zen when I am too Zenaish, and reminds me to breathe. Centre and just be zen
Being the odd one out is always a privilege
Munch stands out from the crowd in so many unique ways. From being called an ‘odd looking Guide Dog’ too many times to remember, to attracting all the right questions about Guide Dogs, Munch never fails to show up and is always eager to help. Breaking the norms of traditional looking Guide Dogs is one of Munch’s strengths and highlights that judging on looks alone will never bring you truth. Being the odd one out makes you shine the brightest and always will.
Munch is the strength and light to many
Munch has an eternal healing energy that seems to never depleat. From lovingly sitting with sobbing clients, to being drawn to the lonely in life to make them feel connected, he is always searching out a heart to heal with his paws, kisses, and his presence. When my mother (who was his greatest fan) passed away nearly two years ago, he cried at her funeral and still lays peacefully on top of her grave when we visit. His unconditional love is eternal to every soul he has ever met.
He is always ready to help
Not only does he work with me five days a week in schools, he is always willing to give up his weekends to do his bit for his fellow Guide Dogs. Being worshipped by the public is an added bonus, obviously, but he never tires of showcasing how life changing being a Guide Dog is. Even on the eve of his birthday, he put his best paw forward and took part in some fundraising.
Wishing you a very Happy 9th Birthday Munch filled with fun, love and some tasty treats . ❤️
You may be mistaken in thinking that Munch is modelling a modern day poor quality ruff around his woeful pleading face, but to the trained fellow guardians of our furry friends,they will know it is the cone of shame. Since our partnership, this is his third bout of humiliation of wearing such an undignified device, but needs must. Tough love is sometimes the only true love.
Munch recently had an operation to remove one of his many fatty lumps that are dotted around his body. Luckily, it was a harmless (but huuuge) lipoma that needed no further action. The blubbery beast had appeared a couple of years ago, but had exploded in size over the last few months. As it was located on his chest not far from where his harness sat, it was decided to remove it and check out what it was. The cone of shame (to protect him from licking his wound) made him be in a constant state of reversing, colliding, and falling. Thankfully, his bumper car like behaviours only lasted a few days until his wound had healed.
Any animal undergoing surgery is a worry, with issues such as recovery times and care needs, considerations, important to the recovery process. With Guide Dogs, life is a little more complex. From operations having to be approved from the charity themselves to figuring out how to get around by yourself whilst they are on rest, life gets a little tricky. Knowing that I would still be expected to work even when Munch was off sick, brought about the dreaded dilemmas disabled people face when their ‘mobility aids’ are not available.
Just to reassure you all, Munch bounced back after his surgery quicker than anyone expected. When we picked him up after surgery, he dragged the poor veterinary nurse behind him as he ran up to give me a cwtch, and a noisy bark filled row for daring to leave him. Once the smoke coming from the nurses heels died down, and Munch had semi forgiven me, he was chauffeured home to a life of pampering where nothing but adoration waited for him. Get well soon cards, gifts, and a 24/7 personal pampering team greeted him. Since the operation, he has been far more energetic , resembling a pup more than his nearing retirement self.
As he sat at home being fanned down and fed possibly a little too many treats, I was in school repeating myself multiple times when questioned , where Munch was. Surprisingly, my white cane just doesn’t seem to have the same effect on people as Munch does. Getting around with a white cane is easier when I am with someone as navigating cluttered school corridors with pupils whooshing by is not an easy task at all. Being “the one with the dog” without the actual dog, is never an easy one to explain to others. Questions layered on top of questions fill the day. From “when will he be back in school” to “can you get white canes that you can control like robots????”, no question is forbidden from the sighted souls that filled my blurry world.
Having this snippet into what life will be like when Munch retires is not the easiest feeling to welcome, but will be a reality far sooner than I want it to be. Life pre Munch was tougher than I ever wanted to admit. A blessing I have, though, is knowing that even when he retires within the next 2 years, I have a personal pampering team within my family that will look after Lord Munch to the highest of standards.
Now that he is back in harness sashaying with sass, it may be possible that he is just a little bit more demanding and commanding than before. The operation has allowed him to bounce back better than before and allow his true colours to infect all those he comes in contact with.
The new academic year for us usually means a few changes in the way we work. From updates on our record keeping systems (which luckily my speech software helps me figure out) , to change in schools that we work in. With a total of 107 schools in our county that we cover, (primary, secondary and specialist schools), the need to change schools is inevitable. This term, we have been placed back in a primary school, and we are both loving it.
Being the only six legged pair that works in our county in our role, some people have heard of us even before we have our first day somewhere. So when happy hairy Munch trotted into our new primary school with me traipsing behind him laden down with bags for the day, no Introduction were needed. The staff were happy to see us , although possibly they were more happy having a new four-legged staff member than the predicable two- legged one. Munch’s picture was emailed over to all the year groups to introduce him to all the pupils, which was such a lovely gesture. When walking around the school throughout the day , we passed groups of children who were only too happy to say hello to Munch from a distance.
Receiving a warm welcome makes it so much easier to fit in an alien place that takes a while to create mental maps for. Rehearsal is key in us knowing how to get around safely. , Munch will remember a route first time around, but it takes me a couple of attempts to remember where slops, steps, doors, and landmarks are. Using touch to find doors and furniture and locate and operate security pads is just normal to me but must look strange to others. I always wonder what that used to look like to the onlooker before I had Munch and used to get around with just memory maps and subtle touch. At least with Munch by my side, I feel like I can be more open to the sighted that I have my own unique way of getting around in our shared space.
We have had many questions from the children since we started, that are too priceless not to share. Here are just some intriguing questions that we have been asked by children in work over the last six years.
Does Munch wash his paws after he uses the toilet in school?
Has, Munch ever had detention?
What does Munch wear on non school uniform day?
Does he have homework?
Is Munch part of a rugby team?
Has he ever been bullied or fallen out with friends?
Has he ever said a naughty word?
Who is his favourite teacher?
Does he eat school dinners or bring a lunchbox with him?
From the list of questions, you can see that the younger children seem to see past his canine shell and see him as an equal. When my granddaughter was four, we dropped her off in school, her teacher asked her what the name of my dog was. She was puzzled at first and, after a while said “that’s not a dog, he’s Munch” . Being accepted into our place of work always feels like a win like this, and this lovely new school setting is no different
As I am deep in my mind mapping world in work to get around safely, I know that Munch is doing his part to keep these little wins alive. For me, independent living is only possible due to Munch’s omnipresent loyalty as he patiently waits for me to get used to newness that we are constantly gifted with. Long live the cheesy grins in our little wins 😁
Having blurred vision from birth has had its blessings.
As up to 80% of our impressions rely on sight, so having to rely on other senses, I have been able to view a different life to most. I have always thanked my alternative vision for not being able to join in with toxic judgment of others. When others around me would comment negatively on the appearance of others, I would remain silent and thank the universe that I was not blessed with functional vision to cruely judge.
I have never felt that I have missed out on anything significant in life due to being born with a sight impairement. Not being able to drive leads to stress free travel. Travelling to sightsee has never felt like an option when you can travel to more than landmarks in your imagination anytime. Not being able to see the facial expressions of people when I say or do the wrong thing is greatly appreciated always. Therefore, when my opthalmic surgeon advised recently that my grade 3 cataract is pretty inoperable, my world didn’t fall apart. In fact, I had not really noticed that it was living happily in my eye anyway due to being severely sight Impaired.
For the general population with healthy eyes, cataract surgery is a pretty straightforward operation with a very high success rate. For those of us with preexisting eye conditions, things get a little more tricky when being offered surgery. With Marfan Syndrome, due to the impact of the condition on the connective tissue in the body, complications are more likely. When I had my first eye surgery in 2000, the complications from the surgery caused far more damage than expected and left scarring and the need for a lensectomy. News of not being able to operate, therefore, was more of a relief than a curse.
My opthalmic surgeon spoke about the only small possibility to operate would be to have two teams on standby in surgery as he was uncertain what the eye was like until he went in. Even if the cataract surgery was a success, there could be no guarantee that my vision would improve due to my eye/brain connection insufficiently developing from birth. In short, I could have amazing surgery to restore vision, but my eye /brain connection still wouldn’t be able to play ball in helping me to see clearly.
Having never been able to see things around me clearly is not a problem for me, really, as I know no different. A sighted individual may see this as something that needs to be ‘fixed’ due to their only frame of reference they have in life, is centred around sight. My only frame of reference is sight loss, and fixing that is something that would cause more problems that it would solve if it ever miraculously could be ‘fixed’
I have lived 46 years, ‘seeing’ the world differently. Blobs and blurs make sense to me. Having to learn a whole new way of interpreting these blobs and blurs into the visual world would be challenging, to say the least. Having an open discussion with my surgeon about this was refreshing . He explained that I have never had ‘good enough’ vision throughout life, and that is perfectly okay. My cataract will soon become hypermature as it reaches stage 4 (I wonder if it will be entitled to its own pension?) and obscure my lack of vision even more and it doesn’t bother me at all.
Surrendering to the inevitable is the most freeing thing you could possibly do. The immense feeling of peace in acceptance of even the most challenging of life changes can allow life to be lived harmoniously. Living your own unique life path alongside the masses helps strengthen essential resilience in life that will get you through tough times. My blurfectly full life is blurfect just as it is.
Explaining sight loss to a sighted person is never straightforward. Their experience of Great Aunt Brenda’s deteriorating sight loss in her 95th year of life may have given a hint of what other’s go through in the hour or two they spend with someone once a month, but it’s not quite enough. The impact on Great Aunt Brenda’s failing sight, after having good vision throughout her life, is massive.
Sitting in the Opthalmology Department this week, snippets of conversations between loved ones merged in the shared space. What I noticed in my hour and a half wait was the gap between the worlds of the sight loss patients and their sighted loved ones/carers with them was pretty big. As the sighted spoke in their sighted friendly language of their upcoming holidays, cinema trips, and renovations at home , the awaiting patients murmered enthusiastic acknowledgments yet didn’t seem to talk much of their own lives. This became even mote gut wrenching to eavesdrop in, when I heard a daughter explain in detail what she saw on her sightseeing trip to Rome with her partner. As she said the words “sorry Mam, I forgot you can’t see” with a chuckle in her voice before carrying on with the next topic of conversation, I wondered if she ever even cared that her mother couldn’t see as her mother sat in silence.
Empathetic understanding is a quality that remains dormant in many, not through malice, but through excess self focus. This was a prime example of one of those moments. I had a feeling that this was not a one-off insensitive moment in their mother and daughter relationship , as the daughter shared with all in ear shot how incredibly full her happy life was. When her mother asked if she could stop in the shop on the way home, the exhaling daughter told her that she would go into the shop for her, as the mother always took far too long due to the fact that she couldn’t see properly. How dare a person with visual problems take longer than a sighted person to do a task, eh? The utter cheek of it.
Over the years, I have heard many people with sight loss being spoken to like this. Having worked with some young people with sight loss through work and my research for Masters Degree years ago, through to amazing elderly people in my visual Impaired bowls club, such examples are more the norm than rare. Ableist comments often slide out of the mouths of loved ones without a second thought to how they are heard. The power of language should never be underestimated when you are in the role of a ‘helper’. Unequal power will already exist when you wear the helping role badge for all to see, which is especially true when you are wearing that badge for all of the wrong reasons.
As social beings, humans need each other. The give and take of life should be as natural as the flow of waves. Your importance is no more or less than another’s. Your needs, wants, and wishes are as important as the needs, wants, and wishes of others. Maybe if you are always doing all the talking and someone is always doing all of the listening, there is probably too much”you’ to have an equal relationship.
The best way to ‘help’ someone with sight loss is to firstly acknowledge that your version of help maybe is not what they really need. Empowering someone to use their abilities in their disabilities to teach you about their life first hand will be a far more useful lesson to you both. Using your eyes as a support to those who can not see, is an alternative language exchange in a shared experience between the two worlds. The loneliness that someone with sight loss could be feeling as their independence dwindles away week by week will need your egoless connection to let them know that they are not alone. Living a sight loss life in a predominantly sighted world can be hindered even more when you use too much visually descriptive language that means nothing at all to the person you are trying to help.
Never underestimate the power of supportive silence between both of our worlds. Create your own language in helping and never assume sight loss consists of nothing but lack that needs to be fixed. Insight gains within sight loss , can give the sighted a whole new perspective of what it truly means to have perfect vision.
This is Munch. Munch finds obedience so overrated. He believes that he is my owner, and no amount of persuasion shifts him from his belief. In all honesty though, I wouldn’t want it any other way.
Prior to Munch’s arrival in my life six and a half years ago, my only other experience of life with a dog was with my collie cross named Cindy, who we had for around fourteen years. Cindy was our best friend who used to spend hours outdoors with my brothers, myself, and friends. She could header a football like a professional, remain quietly by our side when playing fox and hounds, and jump across rivers with ease. One of the best things about her was her omnipresent loyalty and her obedience. We only had to ask her to do something once, and she would do it without hesitation. Admittedly, an edible treat always helped in her eagerness to please, but she always listened. Knowing that I was going to have a fully trained Guide Dog, therefore, I felt would be a breeze. I think, however, it is fair to say it can sometimes be more of a gust than a breeze with Munch.
In his Minster Guide Dog role, he could easily be mistaken as star pupil to Cindy’s teachings as he listens to his commands. His off duty self is a little less trained and a little more rogue. I was reminded of this earlier in the week when we bumped into someone (not literally as Munch was doing his on duty job) , who witnessed his free spirited side during his early days with me. She reminded me of the time when he decided to show some fellow dog walkers that we were with that my commands were not for his floppy ears. I unfortunately remembered this memory far too well for all of the wrong reasons.
Munch had come to me at just 22 months, and after 2 weeks of training together , we were left alone to start our partnership together. It felt like a diluted down version of having a new baby , where you are left to figure out all the logistics as you go along and you are only able to learn by the huge mistakes you make. It was clear from day one that although on duty Minster could not be a better trained Guide Dog, the harness free prankster Munch was yet to be tamed. This became more apparent as we immersed ourselves in the dog walking world where it seemed all dogs walked at their owners’ heel and did as they were told before the spoken word was completed. It was guaranteed that when all of the other dogs were being good boys and girls, Munch would literally be running around them in circles invitingly play.
The most embarrassing time that I was reminded about, was the time when he decided to take around 45 minutes to listen to recall. It was a week before his second birthday and Munch decided that his 2 mile walk and 30 minute free run was not enough to tire out the little power bank and that I would simply have to wait until he was ready to go back on lead. I called, he ignored, I offered treats, he pretended not to be a foodie, and I pleaded as he closed his floppy ears. Without the help of a fellow Labradoodle long-term sufferer, a.k.a owner, I think I may have been stood there as his second birthday was celebrated. This Earth Angel who helped trick him into going back on lead, will always hold a special place in my paw trodden heart. Judgemental stares and echoing tutting certainly can exists among the dog walking community , as it does in parenting circles, where perfection is paramount.
For a while after that impish incident, I was a little reluctant to be around other dog walkers for fear of being judged by Munch’s carefree approach to our free runs. It was only after chats with the man who helped get Munch back on his lead, that I began to see things differently. His Labradoodle was 6 years old and had only then began cooling down a little and listened to recall more. there was hope after all. I reminded myself that none of the other dogs were working dogs, so their time was always ‘free’. I believe that working dogs need to play a little more to help get the balance in their lives when off duty. This is my go to reminder as he approaches his ninth impish year.
These days, when his sit-down protest occurs mid walk, I remind myself that time may have to stand still for a while, but that is okay. We will get to where we need to when he is good and ready. A tantrum or two here and there is maybe what is needed to slow life down and just to be in the playful moment. This is Munch. I think I need to be more like Munch.
Munch’s favourite time of the year has arrived. Holiday time! Six weeks of minimal harness work and maximum nonstop attention. What else can a pampered pooch ask for?
As you can tell from the picture above, his preferred state of being is usually horizontal during this time of year…or any time of year in fact. This omnipresent energy saving mode allows him to turn on his alter ego self where you will witness this 100mph couch potato turn into the playful pup he once was. Triggers for this playful alter ego self , usually occurs through a sniff of food, noticing balls of any sort, being around another dog or a promise of a swim.
His summer ahead holds a sparse timetable of family days out, weekly toast munching sessions whilst I play Visually Impaired bowls, beach visits, walks to explore new places and a couple of volunteering events where he is certain to bring in the crowds for a little adoration. If I am honest, I would love to do loads more things this Summer during my time off, but Munch seems to be slowing down a lot so this would not be fair on him.
As he approaches his ninth year on earth, I know that adaptations need to be made in our partnership. Within the next 2 years he will be retiring from his Guide Dog role and entering into a quieter stage in his life. As each season passes, we create a new way of working together to meet each others needs. This season is based upon rest and restoration to allow Munch to decide if his balance in his work/play life is right for him.
The equality in our relationship has always been central to our working partnership, and I could never see it any other way. Living alongside such a wise old loving soul has meant that I am always in tune with where he is in life which helps shape our Guide Dog partnership. Knowing that this may be one of his last summers in harness makes it feel that extra bit special and Munch driven. I have a feeling he may get away with a little more mischief this season than normal just because.
I feel that I have so much to give back to Munch for keeping me safe for over the last six and a half years, fulfilling a doggy friendly bucket list seems essential. Now where could we begin… ?
Life for a child with additional needs is never straightforward as they navigate their way through a world that is built to hinder them. A life where accessible is an afterthought and not a given can leave a child feeling they are alone in a world full of connections. Finding their own personal cheerleaders in life to navigate the world as a team, therefore, is key in the search for a happy life where only acceptance exists.
When Munch came into my life six and a half years ago, it soon became apparent that not only was he a Guide Dog to help with my sight loss, but he was drawn to being a Guide of sorts to others. Munch has always been drawn towards people with disabilities and additional needs in particular , where his calm presence is enough to allow trust to develop and bonds to build. He has that innate ability that animals have, to know when someone’s struggles are too much and a friendly furry face is all that is needed for that person to know that they are seen and loved unconditionally.
On a daily basis, we work with many children who are neurodiverse, have additional learning needs, and have physical disabilities where Munch just shows up as him and acts like his funny, dramatic, clumsy self. His perfectly imperfect demeanour creates smiles and chuckles without fail. The best part of life with this soul healer is that he is around 24/7 and so ingrained in our family that we forget that he is a dog and not another two-legged human. Having ‘Uncle Munch’ around has certainly helped my gorgeous grandson, who, despite having a significant developmental delay from PVL and delayed Myelination, is achieving amazing things each day.
In the picture above, my adorable two and a half year old grandson had climbed up on the sofa, looked over his shoulder, and mid babble, called Munch up to join him. He then continued to chat away to Munch in his own happy language and show him an object in his hand, which Munch eagerly sniffed. Disappointed by its inedible properties, Munch patiently sat and waited until my grandson wanted to move on to his next adventure and followed him around the house. As my grandson can not walk yet unaided and needs to hold onto an object to stand, the power in this picture warms my heart so much as he does things in his own unique way. With Munch and others lovingly supporting him by his side, he feels no limits to his life.
With body guards like Munch by my grandson’s side, there will be nothing in his life that will be impossible to achieve. This pioneering pathfinder may find his happiness where his peers may fail to look or create his version of perfection in an existence that will always be out of reach for others. His life will turn out, exactly like it is meant to be with Munch and Co supporting his every step.
thesecretblind 