Safe & Sound blog

Wow. So many wonderful things happened while Hanni and I were in Anaheim to accept the Henry Bergh children’s book award from the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA) — it’d take an award-winning writer to sum it up in one blog post.

Hey. Wait. I am an award-winning writer now! I oughta be able to condense this great weekend into 500 words, right?

Let me give it a try. Sunday morning started with a fundraiser for the Southeast Area Animal Control Authority in Downey, CA. We’d do presentations there and sign books. Proceeds would go to the shelter. The drive there took us speeding down one of those famous California eight-lane freeways. We were close to our destination when our driver (Kristen Limbert, the Coordinator for Humane Education at the ASPCA) saw a dog crossing the road. “I’ve gotta stop,” she said, merging through deadly traffic to pull over to the side, open her window and make kissy noises. The puppy was understandably confused by all the traffic, but somehow needled his way right into Kristen’s arms.

Now, that was one lucky dog. What were the odds of an ASPCA van crossing his path, headed directly to the local Animal shelter?! He had no tags, so was dubbed Henry — for the book award, of course! Hanni stayed calm for the entire ordeal, and Kristen vowed that if no one adopts Henry by the end of the week, she’ll take him home.

After the shelter event Hanni and I joined my sisters Marilee and Cheryl at the American Library Association (ALA) convention center. Marilee had come from Orlando to join me; Cheryl had flown in from Seattle.
We visited the Independent Book Publishers Association Booth to make sure the copy of Safe & Sound displayed there was front and center, then did the same at the ASPCA booth.
After that, it was time for the ALA World Championship book cart precision drill team competition. From a blog post on LibGig:

What’s that you say? You’ve never heard of such a thing? What is a Book Cart Drill Team? Well, you know what a drill team is, right? And you know what a
book cart is, right? Well put them together and you get the single most nerdcore sporting event ever. Presiding over the festivities were Mo Willems and Jon Scieszka. They entertained the crowd, conducted interviews and provided color commentary while the judges tallied their scores…There were pinwheels, there were catch and release routines, carts were spun on one wheel. Librarians surfed on carts, did splits on carts, wore sequins and lab coats, and the singing was amazing!

Marilee, Cheryl and I were exhausted just sitting in the audience. We headed directly to Happy Hour afterwards.

On Monday we went to an author presentation, signed up for contests, picked up free pencils, post-it notes, books and catalogs at exhibits, fronted Safe & Sound where necessary, then headed back to the hotel to get ready for the ASPCA/Henry Bergh Children’s Book Award ceremony. I slipped on my Lana Turner dress, Cheryl wore sequins, Marilee fluffed my hair and lent me her jewelry. Hanni stood proud as she guided me into the Anaheim Hilton for the event. True to form – I mean, Flo Finke didn’t raise no fools — we were the first to arrive at the party, and the last to leave.

Yikes! I’m over 500 words already! I’m sure you are just on the edge of your seat, though, waiting for details of the award ceremony — guess you’ll just have to stay tuned for my next post!

Pro wrestlers don’t give pedicures.

At least Atlas Horn doesn’t. Atlas (he claims this is his given name!) is a groomer at Doggie Bath House, a new business right down the street from us. I brought Hanni to Doggie Bath House yesterday to get spruced up for our upcoming trip to California. I wanted Hanni to get her nails painted for the big event — we’re accepting our ASPCA/Henry Bergh Children’s Book Award during a cocktail reception at the American Library Association annual conference on Monday.

“We don’t do nails,” the owner told me right away. For a short moment I considered going elsewhere. But when the owner introduced us to Atlas, I knew we had to stay. How could I deny Hanni the chance to be bathed by a pro wrestler?

Atlas grew up with dogs, he told me. Dog grooming seemed the perfect way to supplement his pro-wrestling income. “You can make good money wrestling,” he said. “But I have a daughter now.”

Does the responsibility of fatherhood make a pro wrestler more careful in the ring, less interesting to the audience? Does the thought of a daughter at home distract him from crushing his opponent? Do you get paid less if you lose? Atlas never explained. What’s more likely, I figure, is that fatherhood forces Atlas to cut down on travel to faraway cities. There are 12 venues for pro-wrestling in Chicago, he said. “But the work is only there on weekends.”
And so, during the week, Atlas grooms dogs.

Hanni tried to be stoic in the pro wrestler’s presence, but truth is: she hates getting soaked. She hardly ever gets bathed, really. Think about it. Guide dogs don’t need baths as often as other dogs. Guide dogs are pretty much always attached to their owners. Unless we go playing in mud puddles, or get caught up with skunks, or tangle ourselves in brambles, our dogs stay pretty clean. The guide dog schools teach us how to brush and comb our dogs, and if we do that every day, baths are unnecessary.

For our special day in Anaheim, though, I wanted Hanni to sparkle. The trip to Doggie Bath House was worth it. Her nails may still be the same black color they were when we entered the place, but now, thanks to Atlas, her fur coat absolutely shines!

One question I get during the “q&a” after some of my talks has to do with colors. You know, whether or not I still remember them.

I do.

I will admit, though — There are some new fashion colors I have trouble coordinating. Teal, for example. Terra cotta. Chartreuse. When in doubt, I Pair them with black.

One color combination I cannot get out of my head ( much as I might like to) is orange and blue. I graduated from the University of Illinois. I can safely say that even a blind woman could have chosen better school colors.

But to quote the school fight song, I’m “loyal to you, Illinois.” I even bought myself a tangerine-colored skirt and top (I didn’t pair it with any blue, thank you very much) the year Illinois played in the final game of the NCAA basketball championships.
And of course I am especially loyal to my alma mater when it gives me a nice plug – I just received an issue of The Media I — a newsletter put out every month by the University of Illinois College of Media. What a fun surprise to hear my name mentioned in the alumni section.

Beth Finke ‘81 JOURN, author of the book, “Hanni and Beth: Safe and Sound,” recently received an ASPCA Henry Bergh Children’s Book Award. Based on publisher nominations and presented each year by the American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, the awards are named for the founder of the ASPCA.
Henry Bergh was born in 1813, chartered the organization in 1866, and also spent time working to prevent child abuse. Finke is the 2007 winner in the Nonfiction
Companion Animals category.

Hanni and I leave for Anaheim a week from today to receive that award. My dress?A basic black number, to coordinate perfectly with Hanni’s shiny red manicured nails. We’ll be the belles of the ball.

This afternoon Hanni and I cabbed over to 1151 S. Wood St. in Chicago. Mike and I had only been married a year when I first visited that address in 1985. Back then it was called the Illinois Visually Handicapped Institute (IVHI). To put a positive spin on my absence, Mike & I anticipated it as being like camp. Braille Camp.

From my memoir, Long Time, No See

That fall, Mike drove me and my things to IVHI to begin my formal rehabilitation. It reminded me of being dropped off at a college dorm for the first time. Except I wasn’t going to school to learn new things so much as how to do without old things. Except now I was married and didn’t want to live away from home.
Except now I was blind.

I was at IVHI to learn to read Braille, travel with a white cane, accomplish daily living skills without being able to see. After Mike dropped me off, I was told I wouldn’t be able to leave IVHI unless accompanied by a sighted adult.

In my head I heard the clang of a cell door slamming behind me. It wasn’t Braille Camp; it was Braille Jail.

Things have changed at Braille Jail, thank goodness. For one, they took the word “handicapped” out of their name. The Illinois Visually Handicapped Institute is now called the Illinois Center for Rehabilitation.

Most people refer to the place as ICRE-Wood, which always makes me laugh – there is nothing close to “woods” at the Illinois Center for Rehabilitation and Education.

There is, however, a more open feel to the place now. Although ICRE was designed to be a facility for adults who have lost their sight, every summer they open their doors for two weeks to blind teenagers from all over the state. Kids with visual impairments don’t necessarily go to state schools for the blind like in the old days – they go to their neighborhood schools. And while it’s great having kids with disabilities included in schools with average kids, it sometimes means they miss out on other things they need to know. So every year “Summer in the City” brings kids to ICRE-Wood to spend the week with other teenagers who are blind.

College students serve as chaperones, and the teenagers attend classes during the day. They learn cooking skills, money management, orientation & mobility, technology, stuff like that. Every day a different adult with a vision impairment visits to talk about their careers – the job search, the obstacles, the victories. That’s where I come in – I go every year to talk about writing as a career.

It’s not all work and no play for Summer in the City, though. The teenagers go out on the town in the afternoon and the evenings to explore Chicago.
They visit Navy Pier, enjoy boat rides, take sailing lessons, shop downtown, attend a Shakespeare play, and get an “insider’s tour” of White Sox Park.

I horned in on the White Sox tour in 2005, the year the White Sox won the World Series. The radio piece I did about that tour won a couple of big-time journalism awards! That was just icing on the cake, really. The true reward of going to this real Braille Camp is, of course, meeting the teenagers. Like all other kids between 13 an 18, they are curious, dramatic, and sarcastic. And Funny! You don’t think there’s any chance they refer to their “Summer in the City” experience as Sex in the City, do you? Nah!!!!!

It was a thrill to be part of the 24th annual Printers Row Book Fair in Chicago over the weekend – I signed books at Sandmeyer’ s Bookstore on Saturday, then gave a formal presentation Sunday morning. It can make a person feel downright proud, living in a neighborhood that devotes an entire festival to books every year. When the fair was over last night, our neighbor Margaret joined Mike and me for our annual ritual. Each year we sit outside Hackney’s while the street is still closed to traffic. It’ s so quiet we can actually hear the glasses clink as we toast the end of another great book fair. I didn’t know it last night, but the celebrating wasn’t quite over after those toasts. A review of this year’ s Printers Row Book Fair in this morning’s Chicago Tribune features me, Beth Finke, along with the likes of baseball giant Billy Williams and best-selling author Scott Turow, as one of “the fair’s star attractions.”

Beth Finke Beth Finke’s fan club turned out to cheer on the woman teaching them how to write a journal and, evidently, how to live a full life. The South Loop resident makes it sound wry and funny as she recounts the loss of her vision in her mid-20s, learning to negotiate a new world of talking computers and Seeing Eye dogs; dealing with marital difficulties and becoming a mother; and translating her experiences into books and teaching. Finke has strung her experiences into a memoir, “Long Time No See” (University of Illinois Press), published in 2003 and based on the taped journals she started after losing her sight.

Finke’s latest book, written for children ages 4 to 10, is a beautifully illustrated story told from her Seeing Eye dog’s point of view. “Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound” (Blue Marlin Publications) has taken her into classrooms all over the area to meet with children and talk to them about assistance dogs and what it’s like to be blind. Finke’s journal-writing class meets weekly at the Chicago Cultural Center. If she presents events in her life like beads on a string, it’s only because she has plenty of experience examining each thought and finding a place for it. When you are overwhelmed by your own recollection, she advises her students, “Take it a chunk at a time.” —L.L.

WOWEE! whoever you are, “L.L.” – I love you. Looks like we may have to return to Hackney’ s for another toast!

Mike and I walked over to Burnham Harbor late this morning for an open house — the Judd Goldman Adaptive Sailing Program was offering free sailboat rides and grilled food to get the word out about what exactly they do.
What they do, exactly, is teach people with disabilities how to sail.

Truth is, I really didn’t need to go to the open house to learn about their adaptive sailing program. I already knew about it firsthand. I took some lessons a few years ago.

But hey, who can argue with free food and a sailboat ride? I also felt it was important for me to be there to support the program – you know, it can feel pretty pathetic to have an open house and then no one shows up.

When Mike and I arrived at the harbor, it was obvious I needn’t have worried about that. The place was packed! People in wheelchairs, with walkers, accompanied by guide dogs and service dogs – everyone was milling about, chatting, laughing, sharing stories. It surprised me how moving it was, just being with everyone there. Mike agreed. “It’s like a whole lot of people who might never have a chance to sail like this if they didn’t have a disability,” he said.

He’s right. I was one of those people, and it made me feel good.

In the end, I didn’t get to sail today –the line was too long. That didn’t matter. It was still worth the trip.

During our visit to Washington Irving Elementary School in Oak Park last week, we talked about Hanni being a “working dog.” A student piped up and asked, “What other jobs do dogs do?” The girl next to him said she knew that some dogs look for people who are lost. “Yes,” an adult on hand said. “Search and rescue dogs!” One student had read a book about sled dogs, another knew about police dogs, firehouse dogs.

Once the students had run out of ideas, I told them what I knew about hearing dogs and service dogs. “My friend Melanie is hard of hearing,” I said. “Her dog Pixie would jump into Melanie’s lap if the doorbell rang.” Their eyes got big. Don’t ask me how I knew this, I could just tell. “Oh!” I said with a laugh. “I forgot to tell you one thing.” Pixie was much smaller than Hanni, I reassured them. A collective sigh of relief swelled from the crowd.

Dogs help fetch things for people in wheelchairs, I told them. Dogs open doors for people who can’t use their hands very well. Some dogs even take the laundry out of a dryer for people who can’t reach in to do it themselves.

What I didn’t discuss with them, however, was some of the controversy surrounding service dogs. That very morning I had read a news story about an autism assistance dog who had been paired up with a four-year-old named Jayden Qualls. When Jayden showed up at his California preschool with his new autism assistance dog, they were denied access.

School officials said they need to determine if Houdini is a service dog or a companion dog. They also need more time to find out if the dog is warranted at the school and if so, how he fits into the flow. The Americans with Disabilities Act gives Jayden the right to have Houdini in school, Qualls said. Jayden’s parents bought Houdini for $13,000 from a nonprofit called Autism Services Dogs of America.

That $13,000 price tag startled me. Guide dogs can cost up to $50,000 to train, but the guide dog user is never charged that much. My first dog, Dora, cost me $150. Subsequent Seeing Eye dogs cost $50.

And though Jayden’s mom believes the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) gives Jayden the right to have Houdini in school, the jury is still out on that one. To qualify as a service animal under the ADA, a dog must be “partnered with a person with a disability and individually trained to do work or perform tasks for the benefit of that person.” Courts would have to decide whether Houdini performs tasks for Jayden or simply acts as Jayden’s companion.

However this all resolves, there is one last question just begging to be asked. Can a four-year-old take care of a dog? If not, Who cares for the dog while the dog is at school with the child? You have to be at least 16 years old to train with a Seeing Eye dog– the Seeing Eye believes working with a guide dog demands a certain amount of physical, mental, and emotional maturity. In simple terms, in order to work with a Seeing Eye dog, you have to be mature enough to take care of a dog.

All pretty complicated stuff, and a lot of grey area here. I guess I was feeling too lazy – and we were having too much fun – to bring this all up to the students at Washington Irving. I can tell you what the 5+ year olds in that classroom would have said about all this anyway. I mean, c’mon. Everyone knows four-year-olds are babies.

A roll of stickers, I mean, medallions seals, arrived in the mail this week. They came from the American Society for the prevention of Cruelty to Animals, and I must say — winning an ASPCA Henry Bergh Children’s Book Award is the coolest. Now I can stick those oo la la shiny gold medallions seals (my publisher insists I call them medallions seals, not stickers!) on the covers of all my copies of Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound. And guess what? The medallions seals have texture to them, too – they feel great.

Books that win Henry Bergh Children’s Book Awards are featured on the ASPCA website. I love how they say I am “a writer who travels a lot and is blind.” True!

Hanni and Beth: Safe and Sound
by Beth Finke

Henry Bergh Children’s Book Award Winner:
Non-Fiction Companion Animals Award 2007

This book tells the story of Hanni, a Seeing Eye dog and her owner, Beth, a writer who travels a lot and is blind. Told from Hanni’s point of view, we
learn what Seeing Eye dogs do and do not do when working. When her harness is on Hanni can’t stop to eat or sniff. She can’t be petted or roll over to
scratch her back. She is focused on “keeping us safe”. While at times Hanni envies the lives of other dogs, she is very proud of her job and enjoys being allowed in places where most dogs can’t go.

End notes explain Hanni’s intensive training at the Seeing Eye School in Morristown, NJ, and how Beth became blind and came to have Hanni in her life.

If you buy Safe & Sound online from the ASPCA your purchase will help the ASPCA in its “ongoing efforts to educate children about animal awareness and create a more humane nation.”

Books purchased directly from the ASPCA will, of course, come with oo la la gold shiny medallions seals on the cover. Heck, pretty soon books purchased anywhere will come with those oo la la gold shiny medallions seals on the cover. My publisher’s son Jude Tucker says it’d be fair enough to charge more for getting a book with a sticker, I mean, medallion seal on the front. But get this: if you buy Safe & Sound online from the ASPCA, they’ll give you a discount! Hanni and Beth: Safe & Sound retails for $17.95, and the ASPCA sells it for only $15.25!!

What. A. Deal.

It happens any time Hanni and I find ourselves in a closed space with other people. On buses, in line somewhere, on elevators — someone inevitably asks what my dog’s name is. I’m not a gambler (thank God, because I sure do embrace every other vice), but you can bet that if someone asks your dogs name, the next thing they’ll do is talk to your dog. Usually in some saccharine sweetie-pie voice. Not good for a Seeing Eye dog. They’re working. They need to stay focused.

And so, I lie. “Wags!” I say.

“Hi, Wags! The stranger coos. Hanni doesn’t respond. “They sure know how to train those dogs,” the stranger marvels. “Wags didn’t even look up at me!”

When I know I might run into someone again sometime, I do divulge Hanni’s real name. Her name is so unusual, though (by the way, it rhymes with Bonnie, not Fanny) that most people forget what it is. That comes in handy – if people can’t remember what Hanni’s name is, they can’t call out to her and distract her from her work.

An excerpt from my first book, Long Time, No see helps explain how Hanni got her name in the first place. Note: Robert is the guy who trained Hanni, Pandora was my first Seeing Eye dog.

At a private interview on my first night, Robert asked “Is there a certain breed, a certain gender you need to have?” I didn’t know what to say. My real concern was getting a dog with a good name. The puppies in each litter born at the Seeing Eye are given names that start with the same letter of the alphabet. Pandora was from the “P” litter, for example. To avoid repeating names too often, the Seeing Eye sometimes gets a little too creative. I didn’t know what might happen to my self-respect if I were given a dog named Yorba, or Bouquet, or Gremlin. My need for a well-named dog, however, seemed too juvenile to admit. “No,” I finally answered. “I’ll take whatever you think is best.” As Robert stood up to leave, I added one last thing. “I really would like a faster dog this time, though. I’m tired of walking so slow.”
Be careful what you wish for.
My new dog is a one-year-old yellow ball of energy, a cross between a golden retriever and Labrador retriever. It’s amazing to think we’ve only been home together for one month; she is extremely attached to me, and I already feel tremendously confident with her. She loves to work, often nudging my wrist as I sit at the computer, anticipating our next trip outside.

Our walks must look comical —she pulls with such enthusiasm that curbs seem to surprise her. She stops, but often not until the very last millisecond. I imagine us in a Hanna-Barberra cartoon, the sound of my rubber soles squealing on the pavement, sparks shooting from behind my shoeheels at every stop. Her tail stands straight up as she works, and I often find myself laughing with joy at her exuberance as we walk.
The only thing I struggle with about this dog is—surprise—her name. Born in the “h” litter, her brothers in our class had great names: Homer and Herbie. Their sister wasn’t as fortunate.
“Honey, that’s nice!” I said to Robert when he first introduced us. I was already on the floor with my new dog, rubbing her belly. “
Not Honey,” he said. “HAHnee”
“Huh?” I furrowed my eyebrows. “How do you spell it?”
“H-a-n-n-i. Pretend you’re from Alabama and you’re saying ‘honey.’”
I scratched Hanni’s ears, and she sprung up to give me a kiss. Okay, I smiled. I can live with the name.

In my Law & Order: Special Dog Unit post last October, I wrote about testifying against a cab driver who refused to pick Hanni and me up. That very morning, when Mike helped me hail a cab to go to court, another cab driver refused to pick me up with my Seeing Eye dog.

A cab slowed down, the driver looked past Mike and saw me standing there with Hanni. “No dog,” he said.
“It’s a Seeing Eye dog,” Mike explained. “A service dog.”
“No dog,” the driver said.
Mike was angry. “You’re going to court!” he shouted at the driver
“I don’t care,” the driver said, then sped away.

I was somewhat reluctant to report this second cab driver. Going to court the first time was not fun, and I didn’t want to have to go back. But I filed anyway. I figured if word got around that drivers were getting fined for refusing service dogs, maybe I wouldn’t have to file any more complaints after this one.

Good news arrived in our mailbox this week. I guess this second guy pleaded guilty?

re: CSR#07-01972211
DOAH docket number: 08CS00267A

Dear Beth Finke:
This letter is the final update of the Department of Consumer Services investigation of the prosecution of the cab driver you reported for investigation. The Department of Consumer Services (the Department) investigated your complaint, and…the cab driver was found liable of violating the municipal code of Chicago. Accordingly, fines and penalties were imposed on the cab driver.
Thank you for reporting this cab driver…your participation is assisting the departmen’ts goal towards 100% clean and safe cabs and 100% courteous and safe cab drivers.

Sometimes the things you wish for really do come true. Hanni and I never did have to go to court to testify against that second driver, and we haven’t had a cab driver refuse us since I filed that second complaint.