How Can I Give Up My Dog? part 2

Note: If you haven’t already, read part 1 of this post here.

Taking Seva to training classes at Helping Paws each week has been a big part of my life for over 2 years. Besides classes at the training center, we train in public several times a week. While it would be an exaggeration to say Seva has been my constant companion, I do work from home and take her places, so we see a lot of each other.

A few weeks ago, Seva spent the weekend with S., a woman in need of a successor dog who used to be a vet tech.

I spent the weekend convinced S. was falling in love with Seva. How could she not?

I’ve gone on vacation and left Seva with other Helping Paws families. It’s a nice break, like when the kids have a sleepover and you get to go out or stay in, grown-up style. This weekend was different.

I must have told myself 50 times that S. would say “yes” to Seva, and I would soon be saying “good bye” to her.

Waiting for life-changing news is never easy. (Sure, on the spectrum of life-changing news, learning whether or not I’ll get to keep a dog is relatively low, not like getting test results from a doctor. I do have perspective, but this is a blog about the Wonder Dog so bear with me.) The thing is, most news you wait for is one of two things: good or bad. Whichever way Seva’s weekend with S. went, I would be torn.

I want her. I’ll miss her. I would never stand in her way. I love her. I don’t need her. She should be with someone who needs her. S. will love her as much as I do. What if Seva misses me? I might never see her again.

And around and around I went.

When I picked up Seva from Helping Paws, I let her out of a crate and she leapt on me, all tongue and paws and uncontained joy. She’s a kisser. Always has been. The moment she was first placed in my arms, I looked down and she lifted her chin and licked my face. She was barely 8 weeks old.

 

  • A tired puppy.

 

Turns out, S. didn’t love her.

Seva had done well during the pre-matching, but didn’t want to retrieve for S. at her house. And she was a little bit naughty. Seva found some duct tape serving a purpose she couldn’t see, so she gnawed at it till she got a corner lifted and pulled it off.

She does have a naughty streak. Her new thing is to bound over while I’m working at my desk and stare me down. If I tell her to go away, she runs off and finds something to shred, like a piece of mail. My next move is to leash her to furniture. Hers is to whine. It’s a dreadful, high-pitched sound. My final move is to capitulate. We take a walk.

Besides not retrieving, some barking, and tearing of duct tape, S. reported that Seva’s allergies are bad.

Bad as in pull-her-from-the-program bad.

I heard this from one of the trainers when I picked up Seva, so it was almost official, but not quite. E. has the final say. I went to the following Big Dog class as though everything was normal, except it wasn’t.

We went to Centennial Lakes in Edina. As I walked Seva around the lake, I started thinking, this is it. Toward the end of class, I had Seva in a Drop-Stay on the sidewalk and E. came over to talk.

E. told me they couldn’t place Seva due to her allergies, and I almost cried. I admit, that’s kind of weird. I knew it was coming and had been thinking about it for 2 days. Still, when you hear it from E., it’s final. It felt like the closing of a door.

All those great reasons I had for getting into the program, all the effort put into training this dog, the classes and field trips and other training teams…done.

We agreed that I’d go on the next couple of field trips as though nothing had happened, giving E. time to make an announcement to the class. We also agreed the news could go public after the Foster Family Recognition Ice Cream Social.

 

The Big Dogs at Union Depot--our last class.

The Big Dogs at Union Depot–our last class.

 

Last night, Seva and I made our final visit to Helping Paws as a training team. I received a certificate for the work we’ve done, and E. announced that Seva is having a career change.

That’s what it’s called, a career change. I’ve heard that only about 60% of dogs graduate. Problems with the training, personality, health, even odd quirks like a phobia of stairs can prevent a dog from graduating. Seva actually had 3 strikes against her: her hip sockets are only “fair,” she’s an indiscriminate eater, and she has allergies. The hip sockets concern is minor compared to the others. She is getting better about eating everything in sight, and I don’t expect this to be a problem for long. It’s the allergies that determined her fate–and mine.

 

Recognizing Seva's Career Change

Recognizing Seva’s Career Change

 

Seva is now my dog.

What’s more, we’re going to be a demo team for Helping Paws. That means she keeps the blue pack and we will answer calls to show the world what a service dog can do for a person. In a year or two, when she’s mellowed even more, I’ll probably look into a therapy dog program as well.

 

I’M SO GRATEFUL TO E. AND S. FOR GIVING IT A GO.

IT MEANS THAT SEVA’S DESTINY WAS OUT OF MY HANDS.

AND NOW HER FUTURE IS IN THEM.

 

 

Wag Walk & Run 2014

Scott, Seva, and I ran the 5k at the Wag, Walk, & Run this year. The weather was gorgeous. Seva was in the lead the entire 5k–I don’t mean leading the race. I mean she was out in front of me and Scott the whole way. She sets our pace when we run! She and I participated in the demo after the run and her Snuggle was awesome.

Wag Walk Run 2014

Me & Seva before the big run.

 

Wag Walk Run 2014

Scott & Seva

 

Runners gathering at the start line.

Runners gathering at the start line.

 

wag walk run 2014

Post run, happy puppy!

 

 

 

Until Tuesday and Seva

I just read Luis Carlos Montalvan’s memoir, Until Tuesday. Luis is a veteran with chronic physical injuries and PTSD. Tuesday is his service dog. Some of you have probably met Luis and Tuesday, and more of you have probably read Until Tuesday. In 2012, Luis and Tuesday were the guests of honor at a Helping Paws fundraiser for their PTSD dogs pilot program (photos by Scott Stillman). And if you read the Helping Paws newsletters, you probably already know that Until Tuesday was an inspiration for the program (read story #4). I’m afraid I was unable to attend the fundraiser and have not met Luis or Tuesday, but I feel like I know Tuesday thanks to the memoir.

 

Until Tuesday and Seva

Luis and Tuesday with a Minnesota veteran.

Until Tuesday and Seva

Tuesday greeting some Helping Paws dogs.

Until Tuesday and Seva

Luis talking to a full house.

Until Tuesday is a quick, enjoyable read. I found myself thinking “just one more chapter before I get up and do blank.” That said, Luis writes about some pretty awful things, like the attempt on his life in Al-Waleed, and some serious things, like his insistence that the US military take responsibility for the people it sends to war. He is honest about his own troubling past, like self-medicating with alcohol, falling out with his parents, and coming to terms with the fact that he has a disability. There were times I put down the book so that I could absorb what I had just read about some troubling realities, from a young military couple facing medical restrictions mandated by their insurance company to water boarding detainees in Iraq.

Despite this being a memoir about struggle and disillusionment, it is enjoyable, because it is also a memoir about hope and love. Luis strikes a remarkable balance between light and dark, so that at no point did I feel the dark material was more than I could handle facing. Perhaps the secret here is that he opened with Tuesday as a puppy. And I knew going into the book, as any reader would, that the outcome would be uplifting. Open with puppy, close with uplifting image of best friends: hard to beat that combination.

Clearly, Luis is an activist. I engaged with his message and never felt he was preaching to me. I think that is because he was sharing a narrative of personal experience–a lot of raw, deeply moving personal experience. If he had told me a lot of statistics or distanced himself from his message, using abstractions, he would have lost me. But he didn’t, and I cared through the entire book.

Now, I titled this post Until Tuesday and Seva. How does Seva fit in here?

 

Until Tuesday and Seva

Seva and geese in Loring Park

 

Tuesday and Seva are a lot alike. I mean, peas in a pod.

Tuesday knew all the commands, but was described as immature. For example, in this retrieving exercise, “He didn’t have trouble identifying the right object, but after a few runs he couldn’t help taking a victory lap around…the room.”

Seva likes to prance and shake the object in her mouth on the way to delivering it, her version of the victory lap.

Tuesday used to bring Luis his socks. Tuesday “loved to wrestle with them on the way back from retrieving them, and half the time [Luis] delicately slid slobber-covered socks into [his] desert combat boots.”

Whenever Seva performs Tug to remove a sock, she first uses the tips of her teeth, lips pulled back, to nibble at the sock until she gets a grip without biting toes, then she leans back and pulls. Once the sock is off, she can’t just put it in my hand. She has to gobble it into her mouth and then prance it over to me and regurgitate it into my hand, making certain it is good and slobbery. I don’t know why socks are so irresistible, but I’m glad it’s not just Seva.

Luis describes how Tuesday walks slightly ahead of him, which was a negative during training, but is beneficial to Luis because Tuesday provides a buffer in crowds.

Guess who else likes to be out in front? I often ask Seva, “Hey, who’s driving this boat?”

“Tuesday does his happy dance, ducking his front half and raising his behind and sort of pounding his head and shoulders into the rug with a scrape and a wiggle, first one side and then the other…It is energetic, goofily joyful, and mesmerizing.”

Yep. Seva does that all day long.

One day, if Seva’s person wants to know what Seva’s life and training were like before graduation, he or she will only have to look here. I am grateful Luis documented his journey with Tuesday. I don’t know what Seva’s person will need from her, but it was meaningful to read about Luis’s experience bonding with Tuesday and how that dog changed his life. It is such a remarkable thing, what these dogs do.

I sometimes wonder if Seva will make it. She knows her skills, is super smart, enthusiastic, and loving. She’s also “immature.” Like any mom, I worry about sending her out into the world. Reading about Luis and Tuesday brought home the fact that it is really about the match between human and dog. When the time comes, I’m sure the right person will be there to match with Seva.

I’ll leave you with one more thought. I realized, while reading Until Tuesday, that Seva won’t fulfill her service dog potential with me. I don’t need her the way her person will. I don’t need her to monitor my anxiety. I don’t need her for balance. I don’t need her to pick up dropped keys. I pretend I need her for all sorts of things when we’re training, but it’s not the same. I believe that the dog, once matched with the person who truly needs her, will respond to that need. And that is when Seva will achieve her full potential.

Awkward!

Seva had a big day today. Vet appointment at 8:30 a.m. I was told to bring her in with a full bladder, and I did.

These things are bound to happen. It was just a matter of time. Really.

When we finished at the vet, I took Seva into some wood chips to “do her business.” She did. I’m sure it was a relief to pee after all that time. Then we headed over to Knollwood Mall to do some indoor training.

Knollwood has a nice hallway without any real stores off it where you find tables, the restrooms, and an exit to a back lot. This is where we went, down the hallway, past the tables, and to a bench. I showed her kibble and we worked on Watch.

In just moments, Seva was distracted beyond distracted. She wouldn’t take a kibble if it was right under her nose, which it was. She gets like this, and typically a change of scenery or trying a new skill will bring her back to me. Not today.

She looked antsy. Then those hind legs started to spread and the tail curved away from the body. “No no no no no no no no!” I jumped up off the bench and ran for the door, Seva in tow. We got outside and I scanned the parking lot–where can we go? Ah ha! A median covered in wood chips covered in snow. We ran across the lot to the median and she wasted no time in dropping a large turd.

I dutifully bagged it and put it in the outdoor can at the mall entrance–because I’m considerate that way–thinking Boy, that was close!

Inside again, I noticed a janitor walking toward a storage room, a frown creasing his face. I looked further down the hallway and saw another janitor standing off to the side holding a long pole, also looking unhappy. Then I saw a chair positioned over a turd. It was nicely formed and about 3″ long. When you bag poo every day–as any dog person will tell you–shape and consistency matter. I don’t think the janitors were fully appreciating this turd.

I took a new baggie out of Seva’s pack. She carries her own poop bags–because she’s considerate that way. And we carried the poop to the outdoor can, then came in to resume training.

With both a healthy pee and poop out of the way, she would surely be able to concentrate on her work. We went deeper into the mall, because really, why would we want to hang around where she’d just done her business? We joined the senior mall walkers, looked at a bright store display, growled at a kiosk that was still draped with a tarp, and all was fine until it wasn’t.

Seva started acting all twitchy again. Forget it, I thought, this is not any way to train. So we went back to the tables where I’d left my coat. I had barely lifted it off the chair when Seva went into a squat!

Out popped a turd–I saw this one–and we ran for the door AGAIN. This time we knew right where to go and she dropped another big pile.

I used my last baggie on this one, so I grabbed a bunch of paper towels from the ladies’ room on our way inside. I picked up the turd and collected my coat, Seva’s leash around my wrist.

As I turned to leave, one of the mall walkers, an older gentlemen, called out, “Wait! I just wanted to tell you that my niece has one of these dogs. One of these exact dogs.”

1. I’m a polite person. “Oh, that’s great.”

“She’s paralyzed from the waist down.”

2. When we’re training in public we are ambassadors for Helping Paws and service dogs the world over. “Oh.” Not so great. “Does she have a Helping Paws dog?”

“It’s just amazing what these dogs can do with some training.”

3. I’m holding a turd in some paper towels, and it’s starting to smell. I discretely move the offensive object behind my back. “Yes, it is amazing.” You have no idea, mister!

Escaping at last, we deposited yet another poop in the outdoor can. And I have never been so glad to end a training session!

 

Guilty as charged.

That’s my girl!

Yesterday, Seva performed her very first service demo. We went to Minnetonka West Middle School and joined three other Helping Paws teams to show a group of 8th and 9th graders what we do. There were at least 60 kids in the large band room.

You know, Seva is the most sociable, excitable puppy, so I went into this expecting her to do well, but knowing that at any moment she could go berserk. We did have a little scene when she saw Chuda in the vestibule outside the front office. Seva stayed with Chuda a couple weeks ago when we went out of town, so they’re buddies. Seva was airborn with excitement. Fortunately, Chuda is older and set a more respectable tone (thanks to his trainer, Wendy!).

I recorded the demo, which took about an hour, and have edited out some short clips. The stars of the day (closest to the camera to farthest): Seva, 7 mos old, and Alida; Jed, 2 1/2 yrs old, and John; Chuda, 9 mos old, and Wendy; Aida, 1 1/2 yrs old, and Katy.

The dogs each do something amazing and we went in order of youngest to oldest, so you get a sense of the progression of skills.

Watch this if…

Intro: …you want to hear Katy talk a bit about Helping Paws and meet the trainer/dog teams. 

 

Seva: …you want to see what a 7 month old puppy can do. Something funny happens when they clap for Seva.

 

Chuda: …you want to see what a 9 month old puppy can do.

 

Aida: …you want to see what a 1 1/2 year old dog can do.

 

Jed: …you want to see what a 2 1/2 year old dog can do.

 

Kids + Puppy: …you want to see Seva receive the kids’ love. I’m giving her kibble for keeping her paws on the floor. You see by her tail that she was excited to meet so many kids, but once again kibble saves the day!

Taking Home the Gold!

That’s right, folks, last night was the Helping Paws Summer Olympics! You may have seen it on the 10:00 news. 4, 5, and 11 had cameras there. Here is KSTP’s coverage, featuring Walter. WCCO covered the Puppy Swim, and you can see Seva in the blue gentle leader here! Seva competed in two events, the Puppy Swim and the Puppy Dash.

International Relations

The dogs formed 4 teams: Australia, Canada, France, and Tanzania. Here we are lining up before the Opening Ceremonies, promoting international peace amongst canines and humans. The event was a fun way for the dogs and trainers to show off their skills to their many benefactors.

Team Canada

Seva receives a pep talk before the big event from one of her more experienced teammates. “OK, kid, here’s the deal: stay in line, don’t eat things off the floor, and no matter what happens, keep that tail wagging!”

Seva’s first event was the Puppy Swim. She competed against her littermates. Each puppy took a corner and was released to race into the pool. First one with four paws in the water got the gold.

The Puppy Swim

They didn’t exactly race in. This thing? Looks like a giant water bowl. Roger, Storm, Seva, and Alta (left to right) consider the pool. After a few minutes, Storm climbed in to take the Gold! She had a blast splashing around while Seva and Roger wrestled outside the pool. Eventually, Roger put two paws in the pool and won the Silver. Seva brought home the Bronze, even though all she did is take a drink!

Storm takes the Gold!

Seva’s next event was the Puppy Dash. Now, you already know Seva is fast. You’ve seen the action shots in this blog.

Puppy Dash

Seva, Storm, and Roger race to their trainers. The judges are to my left–both human and canine because we believe in checks and balances.

Instant Replay

And we have a winner! Roger and Storm raced in the second heat for Silver and Bronze.

The Awards Ceremony

The Puppy Dash medalists: Seva on Gold, Roger on Silver, and Storm on Bronze.

Seva and me

The proud pup displays her medals and her coach!

The intrepid photographer

The man behind the camera! And behind him, a tired out puppy ready to head home.

Training for next year has already begun. Do you think there will be competitive “Shake”?