by Snuffles (of Blindkiss)
We get so many emails from you telling us how much you appreciate our humour. So, in a bid to please, I have been once again to my favourite Internet search
engine to find some blind related jokes that I know you’ll enjoy.
You’ll be aware that some sighted people like to have a good laugh at blind people and being as sighties are better than blindies at a fundamental level
I figured that their humour must also far outweigh our feeble attempts.
In my net searching I was disappointed to find the same jokes coming up again and again. What the hilarious sighted jokers don’t realise however is that
what they consider to be jokes are hellish truisms to us. Let us analyse the most common joke I found on the net about blind people and apply it to my
The Guide Dog That Pees Up the Leg of his Owner
The most common joke of all was this one that I found at a website called
A blind man was waiting to cross the road when his guide dog peed on his leg. He reached into his pocket and took out a biscuit for the dog. A passer-by,
who had seen everything remarked, “That’s very tolerant of you after what he just did.”
“Not really,” came the reply. “I’m just finding out where his mouth is, so I can kick him in the nuts.”
The humour in this joke lies in the comical misunderstanding of a basic blind function of trickery. The observer believes that the blind man is so full
of goodness that he even gives his guide dog a biscuit after it has pissed up his leg. I personally don’t find this very funny. Do the sighted not know
how long it takes us blind folk to learn that most useful of tricks? It took me months if not years to perfect.
I remember spending 5 solid weeks in rehab getting the hang of this one. I was unfortunately the slowest out of everyone because I have absolutely no light
perception left. The less light perception, the less capable you are. When people ask you “can you see anything at all?” they’re not really trying to get
a measure of your vision, rather they believe that the information gained from asking will allow them to make a judgment on your levels of capability,
general knowledge and how worldly wise you are. So if you were to answer that you can’t see anything at all they’d correctly assess they have something
little more than a prematurely born dependent know-nothing in front of them. I, for instance, was unable to answer one single question on last night’s
Who Wants To Be A millionaire, not even the one hundred pound one: What do blind people use to find their way around A: a banana B> a bread stick C: the
dead sea scrolls or D: A white cane.
But back to the thing in question here. Finding your dog’s head by means of a biscuit so you can kick it’s bollocks.
I remember my rehab teacher saying “now pick up your biscuit and stand facing your dog.”
Of course, being blind I had no idea what a biscuit looked like, though obviously I had heard tell of such things on my wireless set. Worse though, I also
didn’t know what a dog looked like.
By the end of the week I had a basic grasp on the concepts biscuit and dog, only basic mind. I was then able to rejoin the class for week 2’s training,
holding out the treat so that I could ascertain the position of his head.
I was given a brightly coloured mac to wear in case anyone in the street might accidentally bump into me while performing this task – always best to remain
safe by standing out in the crowd as much as possible you’ll agree. The next step was to take out this biscuit object and hold it at arms length at a low
level so that the dog could get it. He took it almost immediately. Unfortunately I wasn’t quick enough to do anything about it so the teacher gave me another
biscuit. I held it out, the dog took it even quicker that time though I didn’t even notice. I stood with my arm outstretched for a full ten minutes before
having to be taken to the First Aid room for treatment of my sore muscles. It’s easy to miss a dog’s wet nose and tongue snaffling from your hand if you
don’t even have light perception you see.
By the end of week 3 I had begun to recognise that the dog had taken the biscuit almost 7 times out of 10. This was indeed progress and my rehabilitation
teacher took me out for a Lucozade to celebrate.
Week 4’s training involved grabbing the head of the dog as he took the biscuit and then feeling down his body until I found his nuts. It took just 12 biscuits
before I managed to grab hold of the top of his head as he was munching. I followed downwards as the teacher had told me, down down down until I came across
something hard and flat. The teacher explained to me that this was known as a floor as the dog ran off.
With the words “along not down” ringing in my ears, I attempted the biscuit thing with my recaptured hound. He took it and I made a grab! He yelped as I
squeezed his head tightly with both hands, he wasn’t going to get away this time. I felt down to the back of his head and then followed along in another
direction bit by bit, squeezing him hard so he couldn’t escape. Very suddenly the big thicker bit of his body started to taper off into something much
thinner, thinner again and then it had disappeared at a point. I later discovered I had slipped off the end of his tail and that dog bollocks reside underneath.
By end of week 5 I was taking only 4 minutes between getting biscuit out of pocket to finding nuts and remaining balanced as I swung and kicked. of course,
guide dogs don’t literally have nuts because they are doctored at an early age, so the joke is factually incorrect but I kicked at the little scar.
I was sent home with a fizzy lollipop and a pat on my head and the knowledge of a job well done. If it hadn’t been for the great people at the rehab centre
I would never have known what to do if my dog pissed up me and I hope the people who created that hurtful joke realise the difficulty and intense training
it takes to feed, grab, find, swing and kick. (NB: I went on a further training course to learn what a wet leg feels like, hence making the aforementioned
training more useful)