How many of us can walk past a blind person without experiencing an almost overwhelming urge to snatch their guide dog from them and have a go on it ourselves? It’s like with wheelchairs and stairlifts – what kind of world is it that only the disabled get to enjoy the benefits of a guide dog? A shit one, is the answer. I mean for god’s sake, they can’t even see it! These docile animals hold a special fascination for the sighted – so trustworthy and so highly trained they’re almost mechanical in their movements. Lovely little furry robots. We’ve all wrestled with brutish, poorly trained dogs who haul on the leash and refuse to understand they can’t mate with us let alone take responsibility for the human-puppy hybrids that would result if they could. And we all, I think, secretly want to see just what a really professional dog can do.
But if I’m honest, my desire to steal a guide-dog goes beyond curiosity. I have an impulse not just to try one out myself, but also to break its programming and return it to a blind person. I wouldn’t train it dangerously, I’m not evil. I’d just make it respond in slightly surprising ways to things like rap music or red hair or flares or snow. Show me a blind person who wouldn’t want to be notified of an approaching kerb by their dog walking sideways like a crab and I’ll show you a blind person who doesn’t deserve to see.
