“The doggy saidno!” the child cried in excitement. They sounded about five or six--it was difficult to tell their gender from their voice when they were so young. “Good doggy!”
“Oh, Dylan, don’t do that--he’s a working dog, honey, you can’t touch him.”
“Why?” Dylan asked, more curious than upset.
I addressed the son. “Dylan, this is River. He’s my guide dog. Do you know what that means?”
“He guides you around?” Dylan offered.
“That’s right.” I smiled.
“Why?”
Dylan’s mother let out a worried sigh, like she was afraid of bothering me with her son’s flurry of questions. I wasn’t so interested in schooling adults, especially ones who tried to touch River without permission, but I always took the time to educate kids who simply didn’t know any better and just wanted to learn.
After all, it was the closest opportunity I got to interact with children, since I didn’t have any of my own.
“Because I’m blind. I can’t see like you and your mom can,” I told Dylan.
“So the doggy helps you see?”
I grinned. “Sort of. You know how your mom holds your hand in a crowded store to guide you around? It’s kind of like that.”
“Cool! But… I can’t pet him? Not even if I say please?”
I shook my head. “Sorry, bud. Let me ask you something. When you see a firefighter or a police officer, do you go up to them and pet their heads?”
Dylan snorted and laughed. “No!”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s silly,” he said with a giggle.
“Is it because they’re working and they have an important job to do?” Dylan’s mom offered gently.
“That’s exactly right,” I said. “You can look, but you can’t touch, right?”
“Uh huh,” Dylan said. “‘Cause they’re busy.”
I smiled. “And because it’s silly.”
Dylan giggled again.
“Do you understand now, honey?” his mom asked.
“Yeah! The doggy’s busy holding the man’s hand, so we don’t bug him.”
A huge grin spread across my face. Children always had a better way with words than adults.
Holding my hand,I thought in amusement.That’s a new one.
“That dog is amazing,” Dylan’s mom added with a wistful sigh. “He must be highly trained.”
“Thank you. He does a lot for me,” I said. “Like stopping me from walking into crazy drivers.”
She laughed politely. “Well, thank you. We better get going, Dylan. Say goodbye to the nice man and his dog. Remember, you can wave bye-bye, but you can’t touch.”
“Bye, man and doggy!” Dylan exclaimed.
