I hate my white cane and although I had given it a name to help me bond with it, Raising Cane was getting on my nerves. He refused to walk a straight line and insisted on greeting all the cracks and bumps along 14th Street. However, I reminded myself about how much my beloved guide dog Madge deserved the monthly visit to the doggie spa to reward her hard work. I squeezed the rubber grip on the white stick and mentally told Raising Cane that in a few hours, he would go back in the closet. A place I was unfamiliar with, but heard really sucked.
I was preparing to cross the street and paused to listen to the traffic for a few minutes. I was about to take a step forward when I heard a man shout, “Wait! I gotcha!” I smelled citrus cologne and was stunned to feel a pair of very strong arms lift and throw me over a muscular shoulder. (more…)