Mary Dunlop

Written by Mary's granddaughter, Diana Johnson. This piece was read at a 50th Anniversary reception in the Rochestown Park Hotel, Cork on Wednesday, 9 September 2026.

Today, I want to remember Mary Dunlop not only as my grandmother, but as one of the people who helped prepare the ground for Irish Guide Dogs for the Blind. Her story is one of vision, persistence, voluntary effort and deep care for blind and vision impaired people in Ireland.

Irish Guide Dogs for the Blind has indeed produced a rich harvest but, with every harvest, the ground first had to be prepared and the seeds had to be sown. I would like to take you back to that sowing of the seed in the early 1960s, when my grandmother began her journey, and also touch briefly on her background, as some inaccuracies have circulated.

Firstly, I would like to say that Irish Guide Dogs for the Blind would not be where it is today without the collective vision of Mary Dunlop and Jim Dennehy. It could not, however, have been achieved without the wonderful volunteers, staff, puppy walkers and many others across the decades who came together to create such a successful team. She was never one to look for recognition; far from it. She always placed the emphasis on those who gave their effort, commitment and valuable time to the overall success. The Irish proverb comes to mind: Ní neart go cur le chéile.

Her contribution is best understood in three parts: the personal experiences that shaped her determination, the years of voluntary work that built public awareness, and the partnership with others that helped turn a long-held vision into an Irish training centre.

Very proudly Irish to the core and, indeed, doing her own bit for freedom, mobility and independence in Ireland.

She was born in 1912, the youngest of three children to Dr. and Mrs. Nathaniel Henry Hobart, South Mall, Cork. Tragically, her mother died soon after giving birth. Her father was one of a long line of Cork doctors, as was her brother after him.

Educated initially in Cork, Mary then spent five years boarding at Burnham-on-Sea in Somerset. Boarding school confinement did not sit at all well with her, and she often referred to “that stretch of water” between England and Ireland as the great obstacle that prevented her from leaving it behind and walking home to Currabinny. On returning home, she met and, in 1933, married Dublin man Robert Andrew Dunlop, then a lieutenant in the Royal Army Service Corps based on Spike Island. They lived in Edinburgh before being posted to Cairo. She travelled home in mid-1935 so that their daughter Jil could be born in Cork, and they later joined Andrew in Palestine. From 1939, the family’s moves and postings took them to Kent, Sussex, France, Ghana and Libya, where she and Jil joined Andrew in 1946. Tragically, in 1944, they lost twins, Peter and Diana, who died within days of one another. In 1949, the family returned to Currabinny to care for her ageing father, and Andrew took up a position as transport manager in Beamish and Crawford. 

She always had a great affinity with animals of all kinds. She also had an uncle-in-law, Robbie, of whom she was particularly fond and who happened to be blind. In the early 1960s, she made contact with John Weeks, Controller of the Guide Dogs for the Blind Association in Exeter, and began raising funds for them by collecting bottle tops, silver paper and similar items.

In 1963, she acquired Jan, a German Shepherd puppy bred by the GDBA, as a family pet. Recognising Jan’s exceptional intelligence, and not wanting it to be lost entirely to the GDBA, she trained him herself for demonstration work to show people how useful a trained dog could be to its owner.

In 1964, she became the Irish Voluntary Organiser for Guide Dogs for the Blind UK, liaising with John Weeks to pair Irish people with guide dogs in Exeter. That same year, she and Jan set off on their inaugural annual tour of agricultural shows around the country, giving demonstrations, collecting donations and raising funds so that blind people from Ireland could travel to England to be trained with guide dogs. That “stretch of water” now became an even greater challenge. She was determined that, one day, people like Uncle Robbie would not have to endure the stress and cost of leaving their own shores and comfort zone in search of mobility.

When she was told in 1964 that there could never be guide dogs on the streets of Cork because it was too dangerous, it was like a red rag to a bull.

From the outset, she became even more determined that not only would guide dogs be seen on the streets of Cork, but their owners would be able to train on home soil. In time, that long-term vision was shared by Jim Dennehy, and together they formed an ideal partnership, bringing their own skills to the table and building a lifelong friendship.

In 1966, the first pairing of a guide dog and owner took to the streets of Cork when Ballyphehane man Chris Wade graduated from Exeter in December. Both Nana and John Weeks faced an uphill battle in educating people about the concept of a dog being able to guide and support its owner. Because it was still a novelty, well-meaning people often felt the need to intervene and assist. Thankfully, her appearance with Jan on The Late Late Show in April 1969 created awareness, gave the cause a welcome boost, and helped begin a new way of thinking.

Yet again, tragedy struck in 1967 when her beloved Andrew was killed in an air crash over the Pyrenees.

By 1970, she, Jan and his daughter Jemma had been joined on the fundraising circuit by Monnie Flanagan and her two German Shepherds, Rajah and Zonta. They were later joined by a close-knit group of volunteers, including the late board member Frances Jones, who tirelessly travelled the country attending agricultural shows and other fundraising events. During the summer of 1969, I travelled to all of these shows with her and witnessed first-hand the effort involved: leaving home early in the morning, collecting throughout the day, often waiting until late afternoon to give the demonstration, continuing to collect until the last stragglers had left the showgrounds, and then facing the long journey home.

The next stage was to count and bank the proceeds. The bank strike in the early 1970s created a dilemma, as there was nowhere safe to keep the cash. Monnie’s brother, Tony Minta, who lived in a shack near Kent railway station with a very large collection of dogs of all shapes and sizes, became the solution. For a time, his home became the interim banking facility.

To raise funds, in the late 60's, 70's and 80s, she gave obedience & agility dog training classes, and from early on she was soon ably assisted by Monnie Flanagan and Frances Jones.

1973 brought about the very first meeting of about 30 guide dog owners and prospective owners, held in the Ashbourne House Hotel in Glounthaune. The main object was to bring guide dog owners together, promote the image of guide dogs as a reliable form of mobility and give their owners and prospective owners the opportunity of swapping valuable information as to the advantages and disadvantages of embarking on the guide dog way to freedom and independence. Speaking in 1974, at the second annual meeting, where she outlined that “There is a crying need for mobility training for the blind in Ireland” she relayed to the gathering how she had based this on her discussions and meetings with many blind people in various parts of the country over the past nine years from late 1964 onwards.

Also, in 1973, very sadly, the Ambassador Dog Jan didn't survive an emergency operation. This was absolutely heartbreaking for Nana and, as a family, we were totally devastated. Leaving behind him quite a legacy, she received letters of sympathy from far and wide.

As you are all aware, the association was founded in 1976. This was after much hard graft by Nana and Jim Dennehy and their much-valued backing team.

Fast-forwarding briefly to the early 1980s, 1980 heralded the arrival of trainer Nigel Catterson and his wife Sue, who moved into a house in Muskerry Estate. This became the interim training centre, and great credit is due to them for making do and creating a home where it was possible to accommodate, cater for and train two guide dogs and their owners. Making history in November 1980, the first ever Irish-trained guide dog pairings graduated from there: Corkman Pat Kenneally with Turk, and Ann Casey with Luther. Luther was bred and provided by the GDBA, but there is a little story behind Turk.

During this era, Nana and Frances Jones were actively setting up the puppy walking scheme. Nana had seen a dog at the pound in Cork who she reckoned had all the makings of a guide dog, even though his pedigree was unproven. She mentioned this to Nigel, who had been told by a colleague in the UK that there were no trainable dogs in Ireland, and asked him to take a look. He agreed, training followed, and Nigel was very pleased to prove his English colleague wrong. The rest is history: Pat and Turk turned out to be a perfect partnership. It transpired that Turk was already well known to Cork city folk from his days on the streets, when he had been fed by various traders and members of the public around the market and the surrounding area. He was welcomed back onto the streets in his new role with open arms: “Hello boy” — best Cork accent!

November 1981 was significant in that there were three notable events. The official opening of the Centre by Taoiseach Garrett Fitzgerald realising the fruition of the shared dreams of Nana and Jim.

The very first class to train at Hill Farm, Maureen McGloin and Jerry Lynch, graduated. Also, Nana was awarded a People of the Year Award. Believing this to be a combined achievement by all those involved from 1964 onwards, she didn't feel comfortable accepting it in her own right but accepted it on behalf of the association. Also, typical of her, as she didn't believe in spending money that could be put to better use, she insisted that there would be no overnight stay in Dublin and drove the group of volunteers, including my brother Peter and me, in the Guide Dog VW minibus, which duly broke down on the journey home! Cutting a long story short, we made it back to Cork just in time to drop the then chairman Joe Barrett, dinner suit and all, off at his office for work!

My brother Peter, my sister Sheila and I — while my brother Paul was still only a twinkle in his parents’ eye — spent every Saturday of our childhoods with her at her home in Currabinny until I was twelve years old. For us, it was magical, with the woods right on the doorstep. In 1970, she moved just one field away, so whenever, as a teenager, I felt that my parents did not understand me, that was where I could be found, seeking a shoulder to cry on.

From 1980, I lived with her for eight years and witnessed firsthand how completely her life was dedicated to the cause. That dedication never took away from her devotion to her family or her ability to listen to and advise those she cared about.

In conclusion, I would like to share a story relayed by our great friend Tom O’Neill.

In 1981, Tom was in Dublin when Nana and Frances Jones saw him walk into a pole in the middle of Abbey Street. When they asked where he had received his white cane training, he told them that the cane had simply arrived in the post — not from Irish Guide Dogs for the Blind — and that he had effectively been told to “get on with it”.

Following that chance encounter, Tom applied for his first guide dog in 1982 and was paired with Frank in 1985. As he describes it, Frank totally changed his life: he took away much of the stress, gave him incredible freedom, and allowed him once again to enjoy life with his wife, family and children.

Tom also remembers the personal warmth she brought to the annual national conferences. On the opening night, she would call out personally to those in the room. For Tom, this meant hearing congratulations on his engagement to Breege one year, his marriage the next, and the birth of their children over the following two years.

In proposing, with Breege, that a bridge in Cork be named after her, Tom said: “This was the kind of personal relationship that Mrs D had with the clients of Irish Guide Dogs. We were her extended family and Breege, my wife and now also a Guide Dog owner, would wish that this new bridge be called Mrs. Mary Dunlop’s or Mrs. D’s Bridge. A fitting honour as she truly bridged my life from losing vision to becoming a very mobile person with my Guide Dog Gatsby, the fifth to come along since the late Frank in 1985.”

Another very good friend of ours, Tom Langan, also paid tribute to her work, saying that “Mrs. Dunlop listened to the blind and visually impaired and built the organisation around them”. Although she remained President, she retired from the board in 1997, at the age of 85, because she felt it was someone else’s turn. Even then, she remained available to listen and give advice right up to her passing on 20th December 2003. We were blessed that very day to have had a wonderfully lucid conversation with her, lasting almost two hours, covering a lifetime of memories and all that was dear to her — including, very much, our extended Guide Dog family.

I would especially like to pay tribute here to our very dear friends Mike Meaney, Breege O’Neill and Willie Fitzgerald, who sadly are no longer with us. I would also like to acknowledge the volunteers who gave such unselfish and invaluable effort in the early years. There are too many to mention, but to name just a few: Monnie Flanagan, Frances Jones, Betty Young, John Rafferty, Phyl Murphy, Della McTaigh, Peggy Bray and Jim Leahy. The list is endless.

Finally, although she spent a year and a half being well cared for by my parents in the UK, she was still determined to cross “that stretch of water” once more and live out her final chapter on home soil. She came home in September before passing away just before Christmas.

Saol fada agus bas in Éirinn. Ní bheidh a leithéid arís ann.