Who Would Have Thought? - training guide dogs - Brief Article

Accent on Living, Summer, 2001 by Mark S. Vass

Even before I met my wife, Karen, over eleven years ago, she was a dog person. She had the most beautiful and obedient Chow Chow I'd ever seen. She often jokes that because he accepted me, she decided I'd be worth dating. The rest is history.

Being such a devoted animal person, Karen has trained dogs for over twelve years. She began teaching basic obedience, and now she is one of the leading dog behaviorists in north Texas. About five years ago, she decided that she needed more. She wanted to make a difference. That's when she took her abilities one step further, and as a volunteer, began training service dogs.

Speaking of her passion, Karen says, "Many of the service trained are rescued. There is no bigger reward than saving the life of a dog, and upon completion of its training, watching it become someone's ears, arms, or legs." Many people don't completely understand the term service" dog. The general term is assistance dog. This is an umbrella for three types of special dogs: Guide dogs for the blind, hearing dogs for the deaf, and service dogs for the physically disabled.

A little over three years ago, almost overnight, I went from being a fairly active person with minimal medical problems to someone who couldn't bend over to pick up a dropped object. Since 1997, I've endured over twenty inpatient and outpatient back surgeries. During this time, I've been diagnosed with four separate illnesses.

Just before my medical issues began, we took a new dog into our home for obedience, and then hopefully, service dog training. Sophia was a beautiful yellow Labrador Retriever.

She was like all the other dogs that came to us working toward a future of helping a physically disabled person. Adding a new dog to our current menagerie of four dogs, one cat, a goat and a donkey was second nature for our pets and us.

As I battled my debilitating disease, I lived on an emotional roller coaster, horrified by the fact that I could no longer perform simple everyday tasks.

After months of struggling, I finally accepted that my condition may be permanent and I needed help. I wanted that help to be in the form of a service dog.

A little over one year after that difficult decision, I was in a disbelieving euphoria - teamed up with, of all dogs - Sophia. I was the only person she would work for.

After Sophia and I achieved our final team certification, I felt as though I were reborn. With Sophia by my side, this new experience of having and using help was both wonderful and frightening at the same time. Was I too old to learn something new? Could I do it? This was a big change and an incredible responsibility.

The first day that we went into public together, I was both terrified and on an emotional high.

Along with my new assignment of instructing Sophia (she lets me think that I tell her what to do), about how to help me with daily tasks, I had to learn how to accept my new life. When it came to public awareness, I quickly realized that there was a whole new world of bias, criticism, and ignorance I'd have to deal with.

"Stay away from that man, he has a Seeing Eye dog because he's blind." "Is that a guard dog?" "Does your dog bite?" "Are you blind?" "Are you deaf?" "Why can't I pet your dog?" "You're not allowed to come in here - I don't care what kind of dog you have!" "These were and still are some of the almost daily verbal assaults I had to cope with.

Today, Sophia is endlessly by my side, watching, listening, and waiting to lend a "hand." She picks up things that I drop, and assists me when I do laundry by opening the dryer door, taking out one piece of clothing at a time, and bringing it to me. At the grocery store, while I sit in an electric scooter, she takes things from the shelves and brings them to me so I can place them in my basket. If we're in a convenience store, I give her what I need to purchase and she carries it to the counter since I need both hands for my two canes (about 20% of my day is using two canes. The remainder is in a wheelchair). Since I can't reach to pay money for a purchase while in my chair or a scooter, Sophia pays the cashier by giving her a change purse that contains money. The cashier puts change back in the purse, gives it to Sophia, and she brings it to me.

Most importantly, she gives me unconditional love. When she's doing something for me, her tail is about to fall off from wagging so hard. She is proud of herself. It makes her feel good to know that she is needed and that she is making a difference.

Who would have thought that my wife's loving job of dog training that eventually concludes with a service dog team, would one day be so life changing for me.

I have since learned through this twist of events that there are no hopeless situations, only people who have given up hope. Thank goodness my wife didn't give up hope on me in the beginning of my training, and thank goodness Sophia and I will be a team for a long time.