The door opened and there was a scrabble of claws on the linoleum floor.
"Hello, Mr. MacGyver, I'd like to introduce you to Puck," said Ron, a smile in his voice.
"Buck?" queried MacGyver.
"Puck. Like Shakespeare," clarified Ron.
"Or a hockey puck," laughed MacGyver.
"That too," agreed Ron. "He is a black German Shepherd, about eighteen months old."
There was a snack of the leash being unhooked, then the door closed behind Ron.
Silence.
Toenails began clicking around the lino and the sound of sniffing. Puck circled the room, taking in every detail, including MacGyver's knees, while he sat quietly observing.
After a thorough circuit, Puck evidently decided the perimeter was secure and Mac posed no threat. He flopped onto the floor in front of the door.
"Aren't you supposed to come get to know me?" Mac asked the dog quizzically.
No sound.
"Well, take your time," Mac told him. "I'm not crazy about this either."
Mac may not have been thrilled about his canine partner, but he soon discovered that the feeling was entirely mutual.
When it was time to hook on the leash to go out into the grassy courtyard for "relieving time," Puck ducked away from his hands and took the leash in his mouth. He took off across the small dorm room with it and when Mac finally caught him, he had already chewed it into two pieces.
"Great," Mac said. "I thought you were highly trained."
He took the leather strap away from the dog and sat on the edge of the bed, feeling the damp, ragged ends under his fingers. He pulled out his pocket knife and with its sharp blade made a long slit in the leather near each end. Then he spliced the ends together, thinking fondly of Harry teaching him to do that with a broken rein on his horse's bridle. He snapped the knife closed and returned it to his pocket.
Then, rather than chasing the dog, this time he dug in his duffel for a moment, then sat in the chair next to the dresser. Opening the jar, he dipped his fingers, pulled them out and said calmly, "Puck, come."
The dog came to him curiously sniffing his fingers, and then happily licking the peanut butter he found. Mac smiled to himself, snapped the leash onto the collar with his left hand, and stood up.
"Score: 1-1," he said with satisfaction and opened the door that led out to the courtyard.
The next morning, the trainers' ghetto blaster played "Oh What A Beautiful Morning" at 5:37. Mac groaned to himself as he began hunting for his socks and shoes to go out for the early morning "relief time."
He found one sock easily, but the other had disappeared. The mystery was soon solved when he felt the rug where the dog slept.
"Oh no, Puck," he groaned when he felt the slimy tatters of what had once been his sock. "Score another point for you."
He found another sock in a drawer and tied his shoes. The leash was snapped without a battle this morning, and when they went out, Puck did not take much coaxing to relieve. Mac breathed a sigh of relief, especially when he heard other teams having much more trouble than he'd had. He picked up the pile, reversed th baggie, tied it and dropped it into the trash can outside the door of his room.
As he headed toward the shower, this time he took the precaution of setting not only his socks but also his shoes on top of the dresser.
During breakfast, everyone was instructed to keep their dogs under their chairs on the leashes. Mac wondered how seven different dogs would behave, but since they were kennelmates and knew one another, they all settled down quickly. One dog began to snore, causing laughter to ripple around the table.
Mac appreciated that the meals were all brought to the students and they didn't have to deal with the hassle that was a buffet line. This morning it was pancakes, but at his request, he was also served a yogurt smoothie. He grinned. Tasted like home.
After breakfast, it was time for their first walk. Each student was issued a harness measured to fit their dog with a handle of the right length for their height. Since Puck was a bit on the small side, MacGyver's handle had to be fairly long.
They practiced harnessing their dogs. Mac expected more silliness, but in the presence of the trainers, he was all business and stood still. Mac didn't quite feel he could score a point, though, since the dog's attitude seemed more condescending than anything else.
Their first walk would be easy. Out and around the building. The same as the practice route from the day before.
When it was his turn, Mac stood, feeling Puck also get to his feet beside him, his wagging tail slapping the back of Mac's left knee.
"Puck, forward," said Mac firmly and followed the tug on the harness toward the door. When the dog stopped, Mac put out his right hand and found the bar of the door right in front of them. He opened it.
"Praise your dog," reminded Ron, and at the sound of his voice, Puck's tail began wagging again. Mac felt slightly irritated at the dog's devotion to Ron.
Score another one for the dog, he thought wryly.
"Good boy, Puck," he said, trying to sound sincere.
They exited the building and stopped at the curb. Mac searched his brain for the dance moves involved in the right-hand turn. Right foot back. Step left. Turn your shoulders, gesture.
"Puck, right," he said, and suddenly all the body movements clicked into place in his brain. He was basically getting out of the way so the dog could lead in the direction they were going. As he made the movements, the handle twisted under his left hand and Puck headed joyfully down the sidewalk, Mac following as best he could. With the forward pressure on his left, he found it difficult to keep his balance, particularly without a visual horizon to help him stay oriented in space. He soon found himself pulling back slightly on the handle to compensate and that helped.
The main thing Mac noticed as they walked was the pure joy that exuded from the dog, as though what he was doing was the coolest thing in the world, as if he was doing what he was born to do. Which he was, if you think about it, Mac told himself. These dogs are bred for this, raised and trained to do this, he thought, recalling the breakfast lecture. He hadn't considered the idea that the dog himself would love it so much, however.
Puck stopped at the next curb. Mac extended his foot, touched the curb and this time remembered to say, "Good dog." He gave the "Puck, right" command and pulled his own body back out of the way.
The harness handle felt strong and secure. Puck was firmly in charge and he gloried in it. Mac didn't know how he felt about giving his life's safety over to an animal, but he had to admit, if he had to do it, this one seemed pretty confident about his own ability to handle the task.
They turned right four more times and entered the Common room again.
Ron, who had been following along behind, said, "You can ask your dog to find a chair. He will lead you to one that isn't occupied."
"That's pretty useful," Mac admitted, thinking of the times when he'd tapped strangers' knees with his cane or nearly sat in someone's lap on the bus.
Puck led him back to the chair they had used before and the both settled with a sigh. He realized the dog had been almost as tense as he had been, despite his veneer of confidence.
"What are your impressions of your first walk?" asked Jamie after everyone had taken a turn.
Burl, who had worked a guide dog before, commented on how fast his new dog, a German Shepherd named Maxine, walked. His old dog had slowed so much before retiring he didn't know who was leading whom.
"Maxine, though, she is quick," Burl said with satisfaction. "I'm going to have to start taking aerobics classes just to keep up with her!"
Karen, a gentle motherly type, had been paired with a yellow lab named Paris. She also seemed mellow and gentle, and Karen expressed her delight at the bond that was already beginning to form.
"MacGyver?" asked Ron. "How is Puck doing?"
"Well, he has already chewed up his leash and my sock," said Mac woefully. Everyone laughed.
"I guess he is well named, after a mischief-loving fairy," laughed Ron, and Mac felt relief that he didn't seem to be upset. Mac had wondered if he was doing something wrong. He wished he could express the wonder he felt at the sense of joy he could feel coming from the dog as he worked but he didn't know how to put it into words and the discussion continued.
"Alex?" asked Jamie. "Tell us about your experience this morning."
Alex shuffled his feet in embarrassment. "Well, Hercules walked me right off the curb," he admitted. "I almost fell."
Mac cringed inwardly, thinking how jarring an unexpected step down could be.
"Hercules wasn't paying attention to where he was going; he was looking back at me," explained Jamie. "You need to show him who is boss now and keep him focused on his work."
Alex shuffled his feet again, but made no comment.
"Gerald?" prompted Ron.
The lawyer shifted in his chair before answering. "Gavel… his name's Gavin but I keep calling him Gavel…"
Ron interrupted. "Once you get home, call him whatever you like. Here at the school, though, we request that you use the names they were trained with."
"Gavin then," Gerald continued. "I was surprised at what it was like walking with a dog. I mean I've walked pet dogs before, but they are most likely going to lead you into a bush. This was… I don't know. It was really neat."
Mac nodded in agreement. He'd been surprised also.
"How about you, Gladys?" asked Jamie of the older woman.
"Well," began Gladys hesitantly. "You all know I just lost my sight a few months ago. And I thought I'd never get out again. I thought I'd have to spend the rest of my days sitting on my couch waiting for people to bring me everything. This, though, is like the exact opposite of that. I'm walking… safely… quickly. By myself, or almost by myself. It's… it's so wonderful." Her voice held tears as she finished.
"MacGyver, you are fairly recently blinded as well, aren't you?" asked Ron.
"Yeah, six months or so," Mac admitted.
"It can be helpful to train with a dog early on like this, before poor mobility habits develop," commented Ron. "At the same time, it can make it more difficult if you haven't fully adjusted to blindness, regained your balance and developed a positive attitude toward living life as a blind person."
Mac appreciated his candor. He himself hadn't been given much time to adjust. He had been thrown immediately into the field and expected to find his way. He wondered if that had helped him or made him a little more hesitant. Time would tell, but he wasn't hesitant by nature.
They each went on another circular walk around the block, this time making left turns. These involved a different set of dance moves, but MacGyver decided that it basically involved signalling "left" to the dog with his body, then following him around the turn. Again, Puck delighted in the work, but both he and Mac were exhausted when they returned to their dorm room after supper.
"Who knew that walking around one block a couple of times could be so tiring, eh Buddy?" Mac asked the dog. In answer, Puck rolled into his side and groaned. Mac chuckled. He set his shoes and socks on top of the dresser and climbed into bed.