Blind Man Guides Way for Layla's Law
By Diane Brooks, Seattle Times staff reporter
Originally published in The Seattle Times, May 10, 2001
Hy Cohen never knew when he could leave his own house.
The 24-year-old blind man and his guide dog, Layla, would walk down the sidewalk of their Mountlake Terrace cul-de-sac, heading for the bus stop, when a neighbor's yellow Labrador retriever would suddenly charge, growling and barking, sometimes bumping Layla.
The Lab never hurt Layla. But guide dogs for the blind are bred and trained to be passive toward other dogs, Cohen said. Layla began to freeze in front of Cohen's house if the Lab was anywhere near.
Then she developed a phobia toward all large dogs, pulling Cohen into roads, garbage cans and tree branches as she tried to run away.
For nearly a year, Cohen struggled with Mountlake Terrace police, trying to get the city to enforce its own leash law. But the timing was bad: budget cuts had forced the city to eliminate its animal-control officer.
Next he studied the state's White Cane Law, which makes it a misdemeanor to intentionally deny a blind person access to public right of ways. But he learned it didn't apply in his case.
"So I decided to give them a law that would apply," Cohen said.
The result was "Layla's Law," a guide-dog protection law that was signed by Gov. Gary Locke two weeks ago. When it takes effect July 22, Washington will join 15 other states with such laws.
Now it will be a misdemeanor to knowingly interfere with or recklessly injure a guide dog, or to allow one's dog to obstruct or intimidate a guide dog. Repeat offenders might be charged with a gross misdemeanor, which carries a maximum sentence of one year in jail and a $5,000 fine.
The intentional injury or death of a guide dog is classified as a Class C felony, the same protection given to police dogs, with a maximum sentence of five years in prison and a $10,000 fine.
State Sen. Rosemary McAuliffe, D-Bothell, sponsored the bill after meeting Cohen at a local library. Cohen wrote the bill's early versions, using the Internet to research provisions contained in other states' laws.
The dog-protection legislation "probably will be one of the best bills I've ever done," said McAuliffe, who has served eight years in Olympia.
Surprisingly, the bill's strongest opponents early on were agencies serving the blind, including the Washington Council of the Blind and the National Federation of the Blind.
McAuliffe and Sen. Jeri Costa, D-Everett, who saved the bill from dying in committee, said the problem was two-fold. Cohen hadn't sought the agencies' involvement or assistance before taking his case to the Legislature, and the bill highlighted a philosophical schism within the blind community.
Some blind people strongly oppose the use of guide dogs, they discovered. True independence, for some, means relying upon white canes to get around.
"I had no idea there was this huge rift. Some people in the blind community abhor guide dogs," Costa said.
With just hours to spare before a Senate deadline for moving bills out of the judiciary committee, Costa pulled together representatives from the blind community to work on the bill, creating new language they could support. The final bill contained lighter penalties and tighter language defining criminal offenses.
Gary Burdette, legislative representative for the Washington Council of the Blind, said his group is thrilled with the rewritten bill.
In addition to its obvious benefits, the bill also will give blind people a defense against animal-rights activists who think guide dogs are being abused, he said.
One Seattle-area woman was stalked inside a grocery store by somebody looking for a chance to grab her dog and turn it loose, Burdette said.
"We want to be able to say, 'It's against the law—back off,' " Burdette said.
When Cohen set out last June to push for the new law, legislators warned him it could take three to five years to get his bill passed.
"I'm amazed. It got it passed in one year, with unanimous support in both Houses," Cohen said. "I feel like it was a huge accomplishment. It shows that a citizen can actually make a difference."
Meanwhile, Layla, a 5-year-old black Labrador, has partially recovered from her big-dog phobia, Cohen said. Guide Dogs for the Blind, which provided him with Layla in September 1997, sent out an instructor to help Cohen re-train the dog, he said.
"She's still a little rocky, but overall the problem has been solved," he said.
