ramanth
07-22-2002, 12:28 PM
Sightless Tucson dog chases ball by sound, inspires all she meets
By KIMBERLY MATAS
Arizona Daily Star
07/21/2002
TUCSON -- Molly, an 8-year-old golden retriever, runs across the baseball field of a park chasing her large, purple rubber ball.
Her red-and-blond fur shines in the early morning sun, and her fanlike tail wags as she brings the ball back to her human companion, Doug Hamm.
Observing the scene from afar, one wouldn't know Molly is blind.
Almost intuitively, Molly knows were Hamm will toss the ball. She darts after it listening for the sound of the bounce, then narrows her search field, nose lowered to the ground, sniffing out her target. If she cannot find the ball on her own, Hamm guides Molly with voice commands: forward, back, left, right, stop, object front.
"She's a ball junkie," Hamm said. "It's a golden thing."
Molly was diagnosed with the fungal infection Valley Fever six years ago. A combination of the infection and medication used to treat it caused cataracts, Hamm said. Two years ago, Molly's retinas failed, and she went completely blind. The left retina was detached and veterinary ophthalmologist Christi Warren removed the orb.
"I have some blind dogs that can catch a ball in mid-air they adapt so well," Warren said. "When we have a dog that loses vision, I have to educate people -- that it's OK to lose vision, that dogs adapt so, so well, and they do not lose their quality of life."
Of Molly, Hamm said: "A lot of people, when she first went blind, told us, 'Put her down. What can a blind dog do?' And, honestly, I didn't know."
With encouragement from Warren, Hamm began training Molly.
Hamm joined Old Pueblo Dog Training Club to fine-tune his work with Molly.
"She has a sense of space around her," Hamm said. Molly "can kind of build a mental map of things around her."
To warn her away from obstacles while on the hiking trail or in the park, Hamm uses specific words: careful, object, front, step up, step down, and "feel the ground" when the terrain is uneven.
"Sometimes if you don't tell her to stop, you get run down," Hamm said. "Stop became very important."
Once Molly mastered her commands, an instructor at the training club suggested that Hamm enroll Molly in the Delta Society's Pet Partners Program taught at the Humane Society of Southern Arizona. Pet Partners trains volunteers and their animal companions for visitation programs.
After four weeks of classes, Hamm and his dog took "the test from hell," in which Molly was given commands while in a room filled with strangers yelling, making loud noises and touching her.
Molly is the only blind dog to take the Pet Partners test at the Humane Society of Southern Arizona. Now, she and Hamm visit clients at the Southwestern Blind Rehabilitation Center in Tucson.
Molly's "really well adjusted. I've been told most blind dogs can be if people work with them," Hamm said. "A lot of people say Molly has learned a lot and she has, but I've learned more from Molly than she will ever learn from me."
By KIMBERLY MATAS
Arizona Daily Star
07/21/2002
TUCSON -- Molly, an 8-year-old golden retriever, runs across the baseball field of a park chasing her large, purple rubber ball.
Her red-and-blond fur shines in the early morning sun, and her fanlike tail wags as she brings the ball back to her human companion, Doug Hamm.
Observing the scene from afar, one wouldn't know Molly is blind.
Almost intuitively, Molly knows were Hamm will toss the ball. She darts after it listening for the sound of the bounce, then narrows her search field, nose lowered to the ground, sniffing out her target. If she cannot find the ball on her own, Hamm guides Molly with voice commands: forward, back, left, right, stop, object front.
"She's a ball junkie," Hamm said. "It's a golden thing."
Molly was diagnosed with the fungal infection Valley Fever six years ago. A combination of the infection and medication used to treat it caused cataracts, Hamm said. Two years ago, Molly's retinas failed, and she went completely blind. The left retina was detached and veterinary ophthalmologist Christi Warren removed the orb.
"I have some blind dogs that can catch a ball in mid-air they adapt so well," Warren said. "When we have a dog that loses vision, I have to educate people -- that it's OK to lose vision, that dogs adapt so, so well, and they do not lose their quality of life."
Of Molly, Hamm said: "A lot of people, when she first went blind, told us, 'Put her down. What can a blind dog do?' And, honestly, I didn't know."
With encouragement from Warren, Hamm began training Molly.
Hamm joined Old Pueblo Dog Training Club to fine-tune his work with Molly.
"She has a sense of space around her," Hamm said. Molly "can kind of build a mental map of things around her."
To warn her away from obstacles while on the hiking trail or in the park, Hamm uses specific words: careful, object, front, step up, step down, and "feel the ground" when the terrain is uneven.
"Sometimes if you don't tell her to stop, you get run down," Hamm said. "Stop became very important."
Once Molly mastered her commands, an instructor at the training club suggested that Hamm enroll Molly in the Delta Society's Pet Partners Program taught at the Humane Society of Southern Arizona. Pet Partners trains volunteers and their animal companions for visitation programs.
After four weeks of classes, Hamm and his dog took "the test from hell," in which Molly was given commands while in a room filled with strangers yelling, making loud noises and touching her.
Molly is the only blind dog to take the Pet Partners test at the Humane Society of Southern Arizona. Now, she and Hamm visit clients at the Southwestern Blind Rehabilitation Center in Tucson.
Molly's "really well adjusted. I've been told most blind dogs can be if people work with them," Hamm said. "A lot of people say Molly has learned a lot and she has, but I've learned more from Molly than she will ever learn from me."