by Anthony Corona
Each year, as part of my advocacy, I spend several days in our nation’s capital, preparing for and then walking the hallowed halls where our representatives and senators shape the policies that govern our lives. This year, however, the weight on my heart, mind, and soul felt heavier than ever. Still, I arrived with a purpose. For the first time, I also wore a new professional hat, a role that filled me with pride even amidst the storm of dark and difficult news. In an era where so many voices are stifled or dismissed, I recognize how fortunate I am — at least for now — to still have the opportunity to speak with my elected officials. While I didn’t feel that our direction this year was as focused on the urgent challenges facing the blind and low-vision community, the broader disability community, civil rights, and, fundamentally, humanity itself, I remain steadfast in my belief that advocacy remains essential. Even when progress feels slow, the fire of advocacy must continue to burn, igniting others to step forward for the future of our children, our grandchildren, and generations to come.
But advocacy is exhausting. Fighting for what is right takes energy, and I have learned that balance is not a luxury — it is a necessity. That’s why, each year, after the long days of preparation and advocacy, my partner Gabriel and I, along with our guide dogs, take time to recharge. Just outside of Washington, in Maryland, we visit the extraordinary people who raised Boaty — my guide dog, my partner, my steadfast companion.
Holly and Eric were Boaty’s first family. They are volunteer puppy raisers for the Guide Dog Foundation, and Boaty was the first puppy they trained. Now, they are raising their eighth future service dog: Rogue, a beautiful, smart, and affectionate black Lab who is already showing signs of greatness.
Coming here after the intensity of advocacy is more than just a break; it’s a homecoming. It’s a reunion with people who have given me one of the greatest gifts I have ever received — Boaty. Over the years, they have selflessly raised seven puppies, preparing them to go out into the world and change lives. Some became guide dogs, some became service dogs, and every single one has brought love, independence, and dignity to the people they now serve.
For us, these puppy raisers are more than just volunteers — they are family. Every year, I witness the sheer joy in Boaty’s reunion with Holly and Eric. He remembers them, he loves them, and he shows his gratitude in the way only a dog can — tail wags, nuzzles, and boundless affection. And then there’s Puppy Gabe, our other guide dog, who has spent these days in absolute heaven — surrounded by toys, treats, a spacious yard to run in, and an endless supply of love. It’s in these moments that I am reminded of the beauty of service, of sacrifice, and of selflessness. The work Holly and Eric do — and the work of countless puppy raisers across the country — is what makes independence possible for so many of us. They invest their time, their love, and their energy into raising these incredible dogs, only to let them go when the time comes, sending them forward to fulfill their destinies. That level of dedication and generosity is something I will never take for granted.
Later today, I will board a plane and return to the real world — the responsibilities, the advocacy, the fight that never ends. But I do so rejuvenated, renewed by the love and kindness of those who have given me so much. As I dictate these words, I send out a call to all of my fellow guide dog handlers: take a moment today to reach out to your puppy raisers. Send a picture, a short video, a story — anything to remind them why they do what they do. Let them know how much their work means, how their sacrifice has granted us independence, and how the love they poured into our dogs continues to shape our lives every single day. Because while a guide dog may be a man’s best friend, there are always more hearts behind the scenes, loving them first so they can love us forever.