Get A Seeing-Eyed Dog

             Hemingway succeeds yet again at using the Iceberg Effect in his story titled “Get a Seeing-Eyed Dog.” The story begins mid-dialogue between a man and a woman, and they are discussing parts of a particular safari trip that the man is remembering quite well. As the dialogue progresses, readers are quickly able to associate the conversation between that of an ill man and a woman caring for him. He is most likely suffering from Alzheimer’s and possibly other diseases that are affecting his physical condition, for he is staying in some sort of a medical establishment and being treated for his condition. The woman does all she can for him to keep him comfortable, entertained, and feeling loved and worthy. However, the man continuously expresses his guilty conscience—he is so deeply saddened that the woman has to stay close to him and care for his illness when she could be spending her life traveling, learning, and engaging in other more worthwhile activities. But the woman assures him that she loves him dearly, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. The man makes a reference to her acting as his “seeing-eyed dog,” hence the name of the short story, and how he wished she would spend her time in other ways.

             To me, it is interesting how much information the man remembers considering that Hemingway makes it seem that the medical condition he is suffering from deals with memory loss. Not only is he able to recall several details from a previous safari trip, but he is also able to understand and recollect the condition that he is currently in, the relationship that he has and once had with the woman caring for him, and the fact that she has been caring for him for such a long period of time—so much so that he wishes she would leave and experience life outside of his confinement. This situation reminds me of my own grandfather, who suffered from a mild case of Alzheimer’s towards the end of his life. My grandfather, Papi, was a brave and charismatic man. He was born, raised, and married to my grandmother in Havana, Cuba. After having three children, including my father, Papi and his family became victims of Castro’s communist dictatorship, and they quickly fled the country and came to America. For many years after, Papi worked in the casinos in Las Vegas, Nevada in order to raise and support his family, which is where I was born and raised. As Papi grew older and more fragile, the doctors informed us that he had developed a case of Alzheimer’s disease, and that over time his condition would slowly digress. Interestingly enough, we found ourselves questioning on a daily basis whether or not he truly had been affected by the disease or not. Although his memory of smaller things, such as where he left his cane or his tennis shoes in the house, started to be affected, his memory of larger things never seemed to be impacted. He was always fully aware of who we were and where he was. He was always able to tell his story about Cuba in full detail if you asked him to, and last but not least, he was always fully aware and entirely appreciative of my grandmother’s endless efforts to take care of him. He was the most loving and honorable man that I knew throughout my childhood and young adult life, and it will always put a smile on my face to think about him and the pride and love that he had for his country and for his family. Although Hemingway writes a story about the sad reality of caring for an Alzheimer’s patient whose condition is steadily decreasing, it is also enlightening because of all of the many details that the man is able to remember during his time with the woman.