emma and company - Sheila Hocken
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i
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EMMA AND CO.
By the same author:
EMMAANDI
EMMA V.i.P.
E'.IMA'S STORY
(for children)
EMMA AND CO.
by
SHEILA HOCKEN
LONDON
VICTOR GOLLANCZ LTD
i983
copyright (D Sheila Hocken i983
First Published May i983
Second Impression May i983
Published by arrangement with
Sphere Books Ltd
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
Hocken, Sheila
Emma and co.
i. Blind-Rehabilitation
Psychological aspects
i. Title
362.4'i'09.24 HV i598
ISBN 0-575-03252-9
6
Printed in Great Britain at
The Camelot Press Ltd, Southampton
2. Blindnessi
i
TO
my mum, dad and b i other Graham
ILLUSTRATIONS
Following page 44
Don, Sheila and Kerensa with Bracken and -.ling
(Leicester Mercu~y)
Shadow, Teak, Buttons, Bracken and Mocha
(Roger Willgoose)
Bracken answering the telephone (Rex Features)
Following page 76
Bracken leading Emma (Photographers International)
At the Pro-Dogs Award: Bracken receives the medal for
Devotion to Duty on Emma's behalf from Leslic Scott
Ordish (Pro-Dogs)
Sheila and Bracken with Barbara Woodhouse and the other
medal winners
Emma and Bracken wearing their medals (Rex Features)
Following page io8
Kerensa and Mocha
Shadow (Robin Bidgood)
Shadow and Sheila doing an obedience test
Shadow and Teak
The puppy that went to be trained as a guide-dog
(by permission of the Guide Dogsfor the Blind Association)
Any photographs not individually credited were taken by Sheila and
Don Hocken.
7
FOREWORD
i S T I I, L C A N'T help feeling that i am the luckiest person in
the ,,,-orld. So many wonderful things have happened to me
in mx~ thirty-odd years on this earth. Most people, i am
sure, would think I'd been very unlucky in my lifetime. i
was born into a virtually blind family. Both my parents had
little sight. My brother, too, couldn't see much and i
sultered from the same eye defect - hereditary cataracts which,
of course, caused retina damage. We weren't overendowed
with money either, but it's not money or sight that
makes a life, it's the people around you. i was lucky enough
to have parents who understood what it was like to be
visually handicapped and were determined that my life
would be as normal as possible. My father had been away
to a school for the blind. My mother had spent her life from
the age of ten on, when she lost her parents, in a children's
home. So family life, to them, was of paramount
importance and they were both determined that neither i
nor Graham, my brother, would be sent away to a special
school. So i attended the local junior school, Bluebell Hill,
and went on to a secondary girls' school. There were lots of
hardships, i don't deny that, but, again, i think i was lucky
to be faced with those as a child. i learnt how to cope with
everyday things. i was able to ignore the children who
called me names like 'Bozz-Eyed' as i made my way to
school. i never bothered if i walked into a lamp-post or fell
over things that were left on the pavement. It was just
normal to me. i couldn't read the blackboard, of course,
but either someone sitting next to me, or the teacher, would
fielp me and i got by. Admittedly, i wasn't terribly well
educated. There was a lot i missed out on at school. But it
taught me to make the best of what i had.
9
i left school in i96i and ~,,,as able to do a job as a
telephonist. By that time the bit of sight that i had was going
gradually, and i had to learn Braille. Life as a teenager, i am
sure, is traumatic for most people. For me it certainly was. i
was now having to cope with the realities of earning a living
and getting to and from work. My social life became almost
non-existent. i had to rely on friends and acquaintances to
take me out, to go to dances, etc., but it was very difficult to
fit in with a crowd of sighted teenagers. I'd get left behind,
literally, walking along the pavement. i became more and
more afraid of going out and meeting new people, so it was
much easier to stop in at nights. i dread to think what would
have happened to me if i hadn't heard about the Guide-Dogs
for the Blind Association, and met Emma.
The social worker for the blind advised me to apply for a
guide-dog. My application was accepted and i went for my
month's training at the Leamington Spa Guide-Dog Training
Centre in jtily i966, and there i was given Emma - a
small, chocolate brown, thick coated Labrador. Even in the
first few months of our partnership Emma helped me
tremendously and changed my life. What i didn't realise
then was how much she was going to give me during the
following years. Every guide-dog owner I've ever met states
categorically that they have the best guide-dog that was ever
trained. There are thousands of blind people in Britain today
who rely completely on their dogs to take them to work, to
take them out to do the shopping, and to help them lead as
normal a social life as possible. Being blind is a terrible
handicap, for Man, above all creatures, is a very visual
animal. But nearly every blind person I've ever met,
especially those with guide-dogs, accept their lot and make
the best of it, and try to pretend that outside there isn't a
visual world at all. It makes the struggle for equality a lot
easier that way and, with the aid of a guide-dog, every blind
person has mobility.
My first year with Emma as my guide-dog was full of
exciting discoveries, the main one being that i was safe with
her: she would take me through the busy streets of Notting
io
ham to find the place where i worked; she would find bus
stops for me, and when we got on the bus she'd find me an
empty scat; she learnt the names of all the shops i needed to
go to; she would find a letter-box or telephone box on request
and she always remembered that a zebra crossing was by far
the safest place to cross a road. Not only did i discover
freedom, i made lots of friends and had a social life at last.
Because i had Emma, i could go to evening classes, and i did
courses in the Writer's Craft (short story writing, etc.),
Make-up and Beauty, and
Dressmaking. One of the many
friends i made was Anita, whom i met at the Writer's Class,
and we shared a flat together for two years. i needed my
independence. i needed to be like other girls of my age, and
sharing a flat was a step in the right direction. And then i
met Don, my husband-to-be, actually over the telephone,
through another blind friend of mine, George Miller.
i had met George originally through Radio Nottingham.
He ran a programme especially for blind people and i had
done quite a few programmes for him - about guide-dogs, of
course. Don and i fell in love immediately but it was quite a
few years before we were able to settle down and get married,
for Don had a broken marriage to sort out. But what would i
have done without Emma? Emma was the one who always
took me out to meet Don, who i felt secure with. i didn't have
to rely on other people, for Emma was always reliable,
always keen to go wherever i wanted. As if that wasn't
enough luck in my life - meeting Emma and then Don - i
was to have something else wonderful happen to me.
i had, of course, been to many eye specialists in the past
and, as children, both my brother and i had eye operations,
but none of them had worked, until Graham and i heard of a
Mr Shearing who was perfecting a new type of operation to
remove congenital cataracts. Although Mr Shearing had
offered to try to help me get a little bit of sight, he was very
dubious and suggested that even if he did the operation and
it was successful, i would still need a guide-dog. But i
decided to have the operation. Anything was better than
nothing, and i went into hospital in September i975. And i
I I
came out, ten days later, with sight, to a new and beautiful,
colourful world. That happened seven years ago, and i wrote
about it in my first book Emma and i, but i still thrill at the
sight i have. To wake up in the morning and to see the sun
shining. To see the rain glistening on the leaves. To look
forward with excitement to watching the snow fall in winter
and the dafrodils coming up in spring, and i am always out in
the garden when it rains and there is a touch of sunshine, just
in the hope of seeing a rainbow.
And then, as i related in my second book Emma V.I.P.,
Don and i were blessed with a baby daughter, Kerensa. We
both knew that there was a 50-50 chance that she would be
blind, but after much thought and discussion we decided to
take that chance and, again, we were very lucky. Kerensa
has perfect sight. So you see why i feel i am one of the most
fortunate people in the world - to have had so much in so
little time! And it was Emma who gave me all this: she
opened the door to freedom. i have always loved dogs. In
fact, one of my earliest memories, as a child, is of me wanting
to go and stroke every dog and my mother warning me not to
and trying to pull me away in case they bit. But she never
changed my affection for those lovely creatures, and Emma
cemented that bond forever. i am sometimes afraid of how
much i respect and love all the dogs around me. i could
never live without one close by me. For almost ten years I
relied solely upon Emma, not only for my eyes but as a very
close friend. Emma has retired now. She retired at the age of
eleven, after my successful operation, and it's my pleasure to
take her for a walk, to see her running about the fields and
enjoying herself and, whatever happens to us both in the
future, there will always be a part of Emma inside me.
i2
EMMA AND CO.
CHAPTER ONE
IT WAS CHRISTMAs Eve. Don, Kerensa, myself and, of
course, Emma had gone to visit my parents. It was a ritual:
we always went there for tea on Christmas Eve. Kerensa was
just two and beginning to take an interest in what was
happening around her. It was very exciting, not only for her
but for me as well. Seeing her face light up with excitement at
Christmas trees and pointing out the pictures of Santa
Claus, i was reliving my childhood Christmasses - but this
time with my sight. Then half-way through tea, i suddenly
remembered I'd left the pan of dog meat on the stove.
'Oh no!' i groaned aloud and dropped my knife and fork. i
looked across at Don.
'What's the matter, petal?'
'I think I've left the dog meat pan on. Oh dear, what are
we going to do?'
It wouldn't have been so bad if Bracken and Buttons
hadn't been shut in the kitchen at home. They were our two
new dogs. Buttons had joined us in the September and
Bracken, who had been a birthday present to me from Don,
in the October. Buttons was just over a year old and Bracken
was coming up for three months. We'd decided not to take
them on our usual Christmas Eve visit. Mum and Dad quite
like dogs, but they aren't that keen.
'Are you sure you've left it on?' Don asked me.
'Pretty sure.' i panicked instantly. i had visions of the
house being on fire and Bracken and Buttons being burnt to
death. Thank God we hadn't left Emma, i thought.
'I'd better go back and have a look.' Don, always cool,
calm and practical.
'I'll come with you.' i got up before he could say no and
put my coat on.
i r,
'No, petal. You stop here. What about Kerensa? Stay
and keep her occupied. You can't leave her with your
Mum and Dad.'
'But i must come. Something might have happened to
the dogs.'
'No, no. You stop here. i can get there just as fast
without you.'
'Well, ring me when you get back, and hurry up.'
'I will, i will. Now don't panic. We haven't been gone
that long. It should be all right.'
As soon as Don had closed the front door behind him i
began to panic even more. i could imagine the house on
fire and i could see hordes of fire-engines streaming down
Nottingham Road, Stapleford. Oh, Bracken and Buttons
... please God that they were all right. i went back into
the dining room where Mum and Dad and my brother,
Graham, were still eating tea. Poor Mum, being deaf,
hadn't heard what had happened and, as far as she was
concerned, Don had just put his knife and fork down in
the middle of his tea and gone.
'What's the matterwith him?'she asked as shecameoverto
me. i explained. 'Thank goodness for that,' she said. 'I
thought you'd had a row and he'd walked out and left you.'
That made me laugh, even in the middle of my panic.
Don and i having a row? That was unheard of! 'What am
i going to do?' i kept saying to Mum. 'I wish I'd gone
with him. i know - I'll ring Betty.' Betty was one of those
friends you can always rely on. She lives round the corner
from us and no matter what the crisis rl rig Betty!
'Betty, it's me. I'm at my Mum's. i think I've left a pan
of meat on at home . . . you could probably get round
quicker
than Don, he's just left.'
'Where's the key?' Betty asked.
'There isn't one!'
'Well, how am i going to get in then?'
'You can't,' i said.
'What's the point of me going then?'
'At least vou can see if the place is on fire," i said, 'and if it
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is full of smoke, break the window and let Bracken and
Buttons out. Oh, Betty, please go. It won't take you long.'
'All right, all right. Don't worry.'
'If you see Don, tell him to ring me, won't you?'
'Yes, i will. Don't worry, I'll go straight away.'
Mum sat watching the television. Dad sat in the chair
thinking, as usual ... of things like the next song he was
going to compose. Graham, my brother, was keeping
Kerensa entertained on the carpet with a little doll he had
bought her for Christmas. Emma, unconcerned as usual,
was curled up in front of the gas fire. But i couldn't sit still. i
had to pace the floor, fingers crossed, brain trying to block
out what might have happened to Bracken and Buttons. i
have always had a phobia about losing a chiid or a dog in a
fire and I was beginning to believe it had been a foresight.
Then after what seemed an age, the phone rang. It was Don.
'Oh, thank goodness! Have you saved them?'
'Yes, I've saved them. You hadn't left the pan of meat on.'
'Oh dear!' i was glad i hadn't, of course, but i felt rather
stupid having insisted Don left his tea and dashed home. i
had burnt a hole in three dog meat pans in the last month. i
was thinking of turning professional. 'They're all right then?'
'Yes, they're fine, but you should see the state of the
kitchen.'
'Why, what's the matter with it?'
'You know that nice new Cushionfloor Vinolay we had
put down the other week?'
'Yes,' i said.
'Most of it's not there any more. Bracken's torn it up and
eaten it.'
'How could he have done that?'
'And that's not all,' Don interrupted. 'He's eaten a hole in
the split-level cooker.'