My Eyes Named Daffy

Sydney Taylor sat on the park bench just outside of her cozy home. The day was a glorious one. Whitest and pillowy clouds scattered across the blue blanket of a sky, floating lazily along as if they didn't have a care in the world. The grass shone in the form of tiny green blades, scattered about as if each on a journey, yet they were destined to go nowhere. Kids played across the street, little girls and boys with blonde and black, red and brown hair, each with his or her own runny nose and smiling, laughing faces. But this is not what Sydney noticed. Instead she smiled as the warmth of the sun touched her beautiful black skin. She giggled as the wind tickled her nose. She felt the softness of the grass beneath her, and the stillness of the air around her. She heard the running of the tiny feet across the road. She had never seen color, she knew not the rainbow, or the difference between the sunrise or sunset. What was texture in her eyes? Something to never be seen but always to be felt. Instead she touched and heard and she was perfectly normal, she just didn't see. Sydney had been attacked by a guard dog at the age of three. It had bitten her in one eye, and right next to the other, her father had caught up with her and had put the dog in its place. Later the dog was put down, it comforted her to know that a monster like that wasn't still living. At first the doctors had hope that Sydney's sight could be saved, but the bite led to infection and in the end she could only look forward to life of suffocating, depression of dank darkness. She was trapped in side of herself for the rest of her life. She wouldn't ever watch her children grow up, if she had any, in her mind she knew no one would dare marry a woman that would never see. So she was going to be a blind spinster, destined to sit in a rocking chair and die.

Or so she thought. Years had passed, she grew up impaired and was used to it by the age of four. The doctors said that she was lucky it had happened so young, youth could adapt. But at the age of thirteen, Sydney was nowhere near the academic and physical capability of others her age. She couldn't attend school, so she was homeschooled and her mother knew nothing of braille so she taught her how to write letters, no one could read her writings and she wouldn't ever think of a touching a computer's keyboard, so her parents wrote for her. She needed help, she knew it, her parents and family knew it, and the doctors knew it. One nice young nurse with a very sweet voice had told Sydney's family she needed a guide dog. Immediately the room was filled with a tension. Was the nurse kidding? A dog? After what had happened to her? That joke wasn't a funny one. But as Sydney's parents drove home that day they agreed that it would help. Could her parent's see something she couldn't? How would they even humor such an idea? But in the end, her parents had won and now she was on the way to meet her nightmare. There were two female dogs available, Daffy and Daisy. Sydney's mom helped her off the bench and they shuffled into the car.

By the time they arrived at the building where the training would take place it was ten in the morning. They went to the front desk, and were told to go wait in the interviewers office. After around ten minutes a man walked in and started asking questions. Then he asked an assistant to bring Daffy the Golden Retriever in. Sydney could hear the light footsteps of a woman walk out. She felt her mom slip her hand in hers. Sydney could feel herself terrified and shaking, she knew her dad would be ready to jump in front of the aggressive dog if anything happened. But last time he was too late, too far away. What if this time she lost a limb? Or even worse, she became deaf? Then she would have no contact with the outside world. It would just be her. Her and herself and darkness and silence, and bleak nothing. She should have to stop living then. oh! She could feel herself start to cry, she grabbed her mom's arm and she pulled herself towards her. Her mom helped her stand up as six footsteps walked in. Two for the persons, and four for the...dog. Instead of growling or barking or any negative behavior, she heard a command and the thump of the dog sitting. The interviewer started explaining the dog's background, how she was trained proffesionally and wouldn't harm a fly. She was the sweetest, and payed attention to her owner's emotions. She was an older dog for she had been working before. Her last owner had passed away of old age. Daffy was around six years.

Two months later, Daffy came home with Sydney. They had trained and spent time together, and she was just now getting used to the idea of Daffy. The large dog knew what she was doing. Before the command was fully uttered, Daffy knew what to do. Three months later the two went on their first unsupervised walk. Sydney felt the pressure of Daffy stopping, she then heard the hum of the car around the corner, the corner Sydney was about to cross. At that moment the whole meaning of the situation presented itself to Sydney. She now was an individual! She didn't have to be attached to another her whole life, and Daffy was not only her eyes. She was her hope, her future, her life changer. Sydney was now not blind. She of course couldn't see, but she had eyes who could-Daffy.