When I was three, my parents took me to have an operation in India, which stopped my eyesight from deteriorating . Several years later we moved to Pakistan, where I received 12 operations within one year and went completely blind. Later, I realized that the doctors used me as an experiment. I met my husband when he came over from India to study. I wanted to go to India to marry him, but it was almost impossible to emigrate. I made a crazy plan to cross the borders of several countries to get to India. I was arrested in the first country I escaped to. Back in Pakistan, I lost my job and was asked to sign a "never-to-escape" promise. Instead, when I got home, I made a cup of coffee and decided to make a formal application for emigration. _ , and people who applied to go to India found it hard to find a job in Pakistan while they were waiting. In the end, my husband managed to smooth the way for my emigration. We got married and had children. But after nine years, he died of brain cancer. I was helpless for a while, and then I learned to face reality optimistically. He taught us happiness came from inside us. Six years ago, I brought home a dog called Moritz from the seeing-eye dog centre. He was short with long ears. No one liked him because of his pathetic appearance. We were almost always together. Moritz could not leave me for even one minute. Now when I walk down the street, not like before, people will come up and say, "What a good seeing-eye dog!", and have a little chat with me as a normal creature. I'm now working for the Association of the Blind and I have many good friends, and a special friend in Hamburg. It is a wonderful feeling to speak freely with someone I can't see, to trust one another. When the author walked down the street before, people may   _  .
look down upon her and view her as a poor being chat with her with great warmth criticize how ugly her dog looked respect her for her independence