Sight, insight gifts of guide dog Senna

By KATHERINE HOBY

Down among the broken beer bottle shards, the grubby ticket stubs, sticky candy bar remnants and the stale cigarette butts, a pair of eyes is seeing for two.

Small boys tickle her nose or pull her tail, schoolgirls stroke her soft honey fur and a forest of legs brushes past her cramped form as she sits under a train seat.

For Senna the guide dog, distractions are all very nice but duty comes first.

Her priority is Don McKenzie. Mr McKenzie is sightless, and Senna the golden retriever has become his view of the world.

Mr McKenzie lives on Waiheke Island, though he works at his own physiotherapy practice in Manurewa. He and his wife stay at a small flat in the suburb during the week.

Every Monday morning, Mr McKenzie and his faithful companion take a bus to the Waiheke Island ferry. When they reach Auckland they take a bus to the train station, and then a 35-minute train journey to Manurewa.

For Mr McKenzie, who lost his sight at the age of 7, the relationship with Senna - named after the late Formula One motor racing champion Ayrton Senna - is one of absolute trust.

As he sets off from his practice, he takes the first step of two flights of steep stairs without hesitation. Senna has given him this confidence during the nine months they have been partners.

"I would trust her with my life. In fact, I do - every day."

Senna is the third guide dog Mr McKenzie has had in his lifetime. He lived without one for 15 years, but found he had to rely a lot more on other people without a dog. Although a guide dog opens up his life in many ways, it also means some loss of independence.

"Trust is a huge issue," he says, reflectively. "If you have learned to be an independent person you hand a lot of the decisions in life over."

He has learned an awful lot about the best and worst humanity has to offer through Senna and his other dogs.

Dogs open up the world of person relating to person, he says. Strangers approach him and ask about Senna.

Mr McKenzie says he has learned to pick up signals from Senna through the slightest action or pause.

The relationship with Senna is still forming and "she is still very interested in the world," he says.

This means that when Senna strains at her harness to smell someone's hand he has to make a decision as to whether it is curiosity on her part, or that she is signalling some sort of hazard.

When she is at work, Mr McKenzie prefers people to refrain from patting her or offering food, because it "breaks the flow of her work."

But at home the harness comes off, and the home collar goes on.

From the very first meeting he knew that Senna was the right dog for his life.

"She had enough mischief in her to be happy and outgoing and get up and go," he says, fondly. "As soon as I tickled her under the chin ... she was quite happy. I knew within three or four minutes."

He does not know how he would live without Senna.

"If I'm in a situation that I don't know myself, it's real seat-of-the-pants stuff and I have to rely on her," Mr McKenzie says, grasping the harness in his hands in emphasis. "It's great to have a set of eyes, and another mind on my side. We are a team."

* The Royal New Zealand Foundation for the Blind is running its annual Guide Dog Appeal on April 27 and 28 to raise money for guide dogs and other resources for blind and sight-impaired New Zealanders. Anyone wishing to help should call 0800-364-329.