By Amy Joi Bryson
Deseret Morning News

      LAYTON — The last time Bob Holt flew over the handlebars of his bicycle and took a trip to an emergency room for stitches, he knew he couldn't kid himself any longer.
 

Bob and Joan Holt wait to introduce Abu, Bob's guide dog, to the veterinarian. Abu is Holt's second seeing-eye dog. Chris Bergin, Deseret Morning News

      "I decided I was going to do something about it and take formal training and learn how to be blind."
      That was 15 years ago, after Holt had steadily fought macular degeneration in both his eyes, denying to himself that his vision was impaired to the point that he was legally blind.
      "The thing is, when you are born blind, you don't have anything to compare it to," said Holt, 74. "If you have lived a sighted life and then become visually impaired, you don't want to give up the life you lived before."
      But not only did Holt adjust to a new world of living without sight, he went on to conquer a whole host of challenges.
      When he was 67, the Connecticut native and retired Air Force flight engineer decided he wanted to take up skiing — both downhill racing and cross-country.
      "I had lived here 37 years and never took advantage of the snow. I looked at it and saw the challenge."
      It was also seven years ago that a man spotted Holt maneuvering through the parking lot of a Layton hardware store using a cane.
      Frank Zamora, a supporter of Guide Dogs for the Blind, asked Holt if he had ever considered getting a dog. A few short months later, Holt was hooked up with Moss, a golden Labrador retriever who would be his companion until last October, when the dog suddenly died of cancer.
      This month, Holt completed three weeks of training with his new 24-hour-a-day companion, 93-pound "Abu."
      The dog is as massive as he is gentle and is getting high marks from Holt as both adjust to each other.
      "I give him grades every time we are out," said Holt, who walks daily, a minimum of a mile and a half.
 

      "He's gotten all A's except once," Holt said. The perfect record was flawed when he told Abu to go right and instead the animal went left. That merited a B.
      Holt received Abu through Guide Dogs for the Blind Inc., which operates two campuses and has produced more than 10,000 trained guides for graduates since 1942, all free of charge.
      Prior to leaving for the organization's San Rafael school, Holt hosted a trainer in his home for a preplacement interview.
      "The most important thing is the match," Holt said. "They interview you a number of times over the phone and then come visit."
      During the visit, the trainer and the intended recipient go on a "Juno walk," in which the trainer actually holds the harness the animal wears.
      "They want to see how fast you walk, your temperament — all those things are vectored in."
      Holt walks at a moderate pace, says he's laid-back and easygoing. "I like order in my life. I need a dog that makes good decisions for me. A safe dog. When you step off a curb, that is when it counts."
      The animals are trained in "intelligent disobedience," given the will to ignore a command if it senses its owner will be placed in danger.
      "My other guy did that a couple of times. He might have been saving himself, but he also saved me."
      During the training, both the recipient and the animal pair up for a variety of excursions designed to hone their skills at working together.
      Holt said he and Abu ventured into San Francisco multiple times, taking trains and buses and visiting sites such as Fisherman's Wharf.
      They also headed north to the redwoods, maneuvering along trails and over branches among the trees.
      Every winter, it was ritual for Moss and Holt to hit the high country for cross-country skiing.
      Abu, a 2-year-old Southern California dog who's never experienced the snow, will get his first taste of Utah's famous powder this winter.
      "I'm thinking he'll love it."
      For Holt's downhill racing, Abu will have to be content with lounging at the lodge as Holt is accompanied by a sighted skier for his speedier adventures.
      The dog also will sit and wait while his master does rock climbing or scuba diving next year at a clinic in Colorado, enjoyed by the Disabled American Veterans. His wife of 50 years, Joan, laughs and emphatically says "yes," when asked if it is hard to keep up with her husband.
      It wasn't always as easy for Holt, however.
      "At first you go through denial," Holt said, describing the emotional impact of losing his sight.
      "A lot of people stay in the house and don't know what to do because they have not learned how to be blind."
      Much like Moss and now Abu, Holt received training.
      "I got my self-confidence back, and I can do most anything. That's the important thing — getting your self-confidence."
      Of the million visually impaired people across the country, Holt said only 10,000 use guide dogs, preferring a cane or some other support for daily life.
      "A lot of people don't want to commit to taking care of a dog. He's with me 24 hours a day. You have to give a lot — but it also gives you a lot. A dog is much better than a white cane."