This is Toni Eames and Ivy, who became the first guide dog handled by a blind partner to obtain the intermediate level title of Companion Dog Excellent (CDX). And even when diagnosed just before her twelfth birthday with a retinal disease that caused her to lose her sight, Ivy continued to persevere as Toni relays in the following passage: "When blindness struck, the brilliant and adaptable Ivy assumed the honored and well-earned title of Guide Dog Emeritus. For the next year she resumed her position on my right side as her successor, Escort, took over the guide position on my left. The indomitable Ivy learned to navigate as a blind dog and continued to accompany us to many familiar places around town." See how she tackled her favorite activity of swimming. It is pure inspiration!
 

Swimming Was Her Passion!
By Toni Eames

I didn't want to face the fact that Ivy, my faithful Golden Retriever guide dog for eleven years, was growing old. Since I could not see the whitening of my Golden girl's muzzle, I was not confronted by the visual image of her aging. She had slowed down, but so had I and we were like perfectly matched book ends.
   
Over the years, Ivy had developed into a meticulous guide, intuitively recognizing my pervasive fear of losing my balance and falling. Feeling her subtle signals through the harness handle, I confidently negotiated environments as diverse as the subway system in New York City, the buses in Tel Aviv, and major airports throughout the world. Her cautious approach was the hallmark of the effectiveness of our working partnership.
   
When her caution bordered on hesitancy, I became uneasy and knew there was something drastically wrong. Ivy, the consummate professional, began occasionally failing to stop at curbs and appeared confused when entering a darkened theater from a well-lit lobby.
   
Fearing for my safety, I consulted with a veterinary ophthalmologist and received the devastating news that Ivy had completely lost vision in one eye. She had continued expertly to perform her duties with such brilliance, I was not even aware she was functioning with limited vision.
   
Like most Golden Retrievers, Ivy was a glutton. Aside from her insatiable food drive, her other major passion was swimming. It could be a pool, pond, river, or ocean; if it was water Ivy was instinctively drawn to it.
   
Her love of water first became apparent when I visited my friend Ann Strathurn in Maryland, where strict rules were established about water rights. The pool was for the exclusive use of humans, while the pond was for the canine corps. Shortly after Ivy became my guide, we took a trip to visit Ann. While I cavorted in the pool with Ann's children, Ivy joined Ann's Golden Retrievers in a fenced paddock adjacent to the pool.
   
Suddenly, I heard a loud splash as Ivy, not recognizing the rules of the house, jumped the five foot fence to get her share of water aerobics. Having been placed back in the paddock, Ivy's water passion was not to be denied! If the pool was off limits, the pond was not!
   
Jumping the fence in the other direction, Ivy indulged her swimming passion in the designated dog area. For the rest of that visit and subsequent ones, when Ivy was off leash, I allowed her to cavort in the pond.
   
While Ivy was still working as my guide, but going through vision loss, we revisited the Strathurns. I was surprised to discover the rules at Ann's had been relaxed, and dogs were now invited to join humans in the pool.
   
During this latest visit, I was concerned that Ivy, with her limited vision, might injure herself trying to get to the water. Not to worry! Since Ivy was familiar with the house and property, she used her residual vision to run around the yard and quickly found the pool. To my dismay, however, when a floating boat bumper was thrown, Ivy dove after it but often swam right by. Eventually scenting the bumper, she retrieved it and brought it to us on the patio.
   
As dusk fell, Ann noted in distress that Ivy was unable to locate the patio steps and tried to reach us by crashing through the bushes. Ann's observations confirmed my worst fears about Ivy's continuing vision loss and became the basis of her retirement.
   
By the time Escort, my new Golden Retriever guide dog entered our family, Ivy had become totally blind. Like her human counterparts, she adapted quickly to her blindness, but my emotions were rocked.
   
The first time she tried to race down the stairs at meal time, she stumbled and slid down several steps. From that time on, she adjusted her pace and never had another close call.
   
Ivy learned to heel on my right as Escort assumed the guiding role at my left side. Whenever possible, Ivy accompanied me to meetings, restaurants, theater productions, and friends' homes. When my husband Ed and I were away from home overnight, a corps of dog sitters had to be found for Ivy who could not accompany us.
   
When Helen Shea was the designated dog sitter, Ivy was in ecstasy. Like Ann, Aunt Helen had a pool and dogs were allowed to use it! Although Ivy would have preferred to use the pool throughout the year, she was not allowed to indulge her love of swimming until the weather warmed up.
   
Finally, that magic day arrived when air and water temperature were right. Like an overprotective parent, something I counsel parents of blind children to avoid, I set about re-introducing Ivy to the pool. Husband Ed, Helen's daughter Beth, and I got into the water and called Ivy to us.
   
She cautiously negotiated the steps in to the pool and swam several feet away. We called her back to the steps, then let her swim further away. After two or three lessons, Ivy demonstrated her confidence by swimming the length of the pool.
   
Later that afternoon, as we humans dried off on the patio, Ivy emerged from the pool and embarked on an incredible investigation. In awe, Beth described Ivy's movements. Using her nose as a blind person would use a long white cane, Ivy carefully negotiated the perimeter of the pool, apparently measuring and memorizing the length and width of its boundaries. Having completed her task, she returned to the stairs and effortlessly glided back into her watery haven.
   
Her message was loud and clear: "You have never allowed your blindness to interfere with your ability to follow your dreams, and adopting your attitude of independence, I too can pursue my passions!"