He Came to Work

He came to be my service dog.

I had thought my puppy raising days behind me. I tried rescue….and, surprisingly, all the rescue folks turned me down. That’s a bit of a shock, having rescue tell you that, no, they don’t believe you can have their dog. In one case, I was one of several who applied for a particularly sweet-sounding girl, and the foster home who knew her believed another applicant would serve her better—and the heck with me.

Well, who could blame them? Their interest lies with the dog. 

Baby River

I had queried with another group about another dog, and, after getting answers understood to not even bother to apply. I gotta tell you, I have a reputation—and it is NOT one where dog people don’t want their dogs in my house. Generally, a dog in my house gets all the exercise he needs, all the tennis balls she wants, quality food, soft beds (usually a person’s), training…….

So, though I thought puppy raising days behind me, here he came. 

He has big paws to fill. My previous service girl, Millie, defied the prototype of her border collie breed. Calm, sweet, she actually had been a rescue, a beloved companion before injury brought to me a need for a helper. Wild as a buck on arrival, her sweet nature responded to training, bonded to human outreach, and a couple of years after a time when no one wanted to be in the same zip code with her, she morphed into the dog for whom I was envied. “I wish my dog listened like Millie……obeyed me like Millie does you……was as sweet as Millie is…..” It took time and work, but, oh, man, not one iota of effort failed the worth of it. When she went anywhere with me, she kept close, watched me, willingly let others love on her when appropriate, but never let there be a doubt to whom she belonged.

Millie

The loss of Millie, that beautiful, big, chestnut, flame-coated girl, devastated me, taking a friend and more—my helper. For two years I wore a surgical shoe and walked with a cane. She wore her service dog vest, my wallet in the pocket, so I did not have a purse or bag to keep up with.  The injury came after a routine surgery; I had dreamed of pedicures and pretty shoes and, instead, through no animus or intention, received damage and new boundaries. It took a toll, this adjustment to new limits. When unable to do some things I saw others doing, a walk up a hill too strenuous, a group outing beyond my new capabilities, I reached for my sturdy, beautiful girl who read my spirit, bringing comfort as well as physical aid. I still miss that lovely dog.

And I need, well, not a replacement, but another assistant in the day, not just from my own wants, but a couple of medical practices have recommended a service dog for a couple years now. Though out of the surgical shoe and past need of a daily cane, restrictions from that injury haven’t changed much. Stability can, at times, be an issue…..well, the medical folks recommend a dog.

And, so came a puppy.

I read on a herding dog board about a girl who had a dog named River, and I thought that name so beautiful, so different…..so, River.

The dogs who were already here adore River; he adores them, and they taught him lots of useful things.  “That flap in the door? It lets you outside and inside quickly and easily.  It’s better to potty outside. Chasing tennis balls is fun. We run in a field every day, and they have ponds for swimming!”

Perhaps the most appreciated—“When the bell rings, a person is at the door. You stare at it, look at Mom or Dad. But, don’t make any noise.” Not having dogs bark at the doorbell? Priceless.

River grew and grew and grew….. training started early.

And continues still…..

But, though I try not to compare, I see a bit of Millie in this dog. In the class where we practice jumping or climbing or fun things, he watches me closely. Another dog mom says, “I have never seen a dog so focused on his human as River is.” At times we switch dogs, working each others’ dogs to see how they do—and how we do with another person’s dog, giving commands. River will do what they say, but he continually checks with me. “Where are you? Why are you there and I’m here?

Because I still work each day, the dogs and I go to sleep earlier than my husband. River touches me—albeit through covers—all night. Whisper, my beautiful white-faced boy, starts on the bed with us. But, fortunately for human house inhabitants, he gets warm after a bit and goes to the floor. River scoots closer to me.

Whisper

When my husband leaves for a car ride with the other dogs (we also have the gorgeous Jenni, Mike’s retirement present, a girl who herds), River never lifts an eye. He stays with me.

When he came, a car ride made him so sick, the poor little puppy ran away from the very thought of a ride. “No! No! NoNoNoNoNo!” We took him on short rides, but no joy. We got him medicine, but by then his mind had settled. Poor boy grew so terrified at the thought of a car moving that he drooled if I just set him in the car and didn’t even turn it on. It took months, but finally he could get in the car, drool, but not throw up.  And now, if I go somewhere—anywhere—besides work, my sweet River wonders why he is not in the car with me. Especially he looks forward to our class of running, jumping, climbing. The first time he ran to the door excited to go the whole class clapped at the news, excited for the puppy who had overcome his fear and sickness!

And we still work on his basic skills. Soon, he will have his Canine Good Citizen Certificate. Though he tends to pull when we walk outside, like in a park, he improves each time, and inside, as in PetSmart, you have never seen a better loose leash walk. He doesn’t want to sit, but he wants to do what I want him to do, so he works to please me, to help me.

River practices "Down!"

He learns.

After his CGC, we can get him the skills he needs for Service Dog certification. Still a big puppy at a year-and-a-half, he learns quickly. This puppy, this gift, already he shows the talent he brings to the help he will give. Ah, what a gift, the promise of this puppy.

He has come here to be my service dog. Though his job does not entail some of the detailed tasks others with that title must perform, I wait impatiently for his training to finish, for his help with mobility and stability issues, for his help when my limits bring frustration, for his very presence and usefulness to lessen that physical pain, hopefully decrease the strong medicines I take.

Training takes as long as it takes, worth the time, worth the work.

Beautiful River, rolling along….

Beautiful River