Before I was a Can Do client, I was a Can Do volunteer. And before I was a Can Do volunteer I was a card-carrying “crazy dog person” who had driven down Hwy. 169 all her life, always wondering about that oddly curved brick building with the smiling dog sign. Obsessed with dogs before I could reliably hold a leash, my life stages have been bookmarked by a series of rescue dogs that each changed my life in their own way. But of course the biggest change in my life with dogs was being matched with my first Seizure Assistance Dog, Ryder.
When I started as a Can Do volunteer I wanted to jump right in as a long term foster, but because of my health (which at that time was still largely undiagnosed) and being a stay at home parent to a preschooler, our family very happily welcomed and cared for a steady stream of short term, puppy sitting, kid eval and medical fosters. I was, of course, instantly amazed with the dogs we hosted, and felt a strong pull to help get them to their future clients. I was also so impressed with the incredible community of volunteers, staff and inmates that cared for these dogs at each stage of the process.
Although most of our foster pups stayed less than a month, I still took my job very seriously. I didn’t want to hand a dog back to a long term foster after having “ruined” all their hard work while they were on vacation in Chicago! Or worse, have a foster dog ingest something at my house only to poop it out when they got back to the kennels, thus proving my inadequacy to the staff!
[Real Talk: the dreaded “foreign body poop out” (where your dog poops something out you had no idea they had consumed and you have to send the “email of shame” to Casey) is something that I’m pretty sure has happened to most of us volunteers despite our almost inhuman efforts to try to prevent it!]
Gratefully the Puppy Program staff was always available to reassure me (as their phone and email records will reflect) and I loved them for it. But if I’m being honest, what I heard them emphasize over and over again to ALL the fosters seemed almost too simple to be effective. Like, how can this be enough to raise these talented future assistance dogs?
Emily, Lindy, Casey & Shenna (on repeat):
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Provide the dog with a safe and loving environment.
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Keep all new experiences brief, positive and fun.
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Measure their food so they maintain a healthy weight.
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Always, always focus on their loose leash walking.
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Consistently reinforce the dog’s attention, house manners and basic skills.
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Make sure they have daily crate breaks with a Kong or Nylabone to entertain them.
Maybe I’m the only one, but I distinctly remember thinking, “What does this stuff have to do with the mega-amazing tasks the dogs will learn to save their people’s lives?!? Are you sure this is enough?!?”
Now, as a client, I have a fresh understanding of what “this stuff” has to do with me being able to move more safely around the world because I had Ryder at my side. The “simple” foundations that volunteers give to future Can Do Canines aren’t just what comes before the flashy stuff they learn to help their person live with a disability.
These foundation skills ARE the things that Can Do Canines do to help their person live with a disability.
Obviously Can Do Canines get extensive skills training in the kennel before they’re placed with their new client. Some of the things the Program Trainers teach them are nothing short of a miracle. But no matter how naturally talented a dog is with her nose and how well she can sniff out a blood sugar low, if she can’t walk reliably on a loose leash she does not get to be a Can Do Canines Diabetic Assistance Dog.
No matter how calm, stable, and in tune with their kiddo a dog may be, if he constantly tries to eat out of the garbage or lumbers right out the front door each time it’s opened, he cannot be a Can Do Canines Autism Assistance Dog.
No matter how alert, dedicated and hard-working a dog may be, she can’t be a Can Do Canines Hearing Assist Dog if she has separation anxiety and can’t spend time alone and content in her crate.
And on and on.
This is what became more and more clear to me during the time I had with Ryder before his medical retirement. Can Do doesn’t match a dog with a job he’s “meh” about, and the program trainers saw that Ryder was a natural seizure assist dog. He was born to snuggle and loved doing simple retrieves. So they expertly refined his natural inclinations so that he could do them for me dependably and happily, day in and day out. When I was paralyzed, scared and at my worst, he was in his glory and I loved him for it.
You can teach a dog to lay full length and tummy to tummy on top of a person having a seizure, but you can’t “train” them to be happy about it. After he helpfully got my medicine, Ryder agreed with his training that my seizures were an excellent time to rest his head on my chest, stare deeply and calmly into my eyes, and blow softly into my face. He’d usually fall asleep and his snores would make me smile. Because of him I had fewer seizures, and the ones I did have felt less intense, were less frequent, and were absolutely less scary.
A miracle, right? My family and I certainly thought so. But what I didn’t anticipate was that as much as I depended upon Ryder to help with my seizures, MOST of his job consisted of things unrelated to seizures. Settling in public. Loose leash walking. Automatic “leave-its.” Not barking or whining. Not sniffing at the deli counter. All foundations that he learned in his years in the Puppy Program.
The house manners and behaviors we require of our dogs do not come naturally to them, no matter how well and purposefully bred they are. None of these essential behaviors are naturally rewarding for them, but Ryder and all other Can Do Canines perform them because their fosters and Program Trainers have worked so hard to instill these foundations through positive reinforcement.
No matter how talented Ryder was at his seizure tasks (and talented he was) if he hadn't had these foundations he couldn’t have been my boy. We had a partnership that I painfully miss every hour of every day. He is now living his best life with a wonderful family that can walk him through his medical journey. Writing this right now while waiting for a successor dog is very emotional, but it also gives me an even greater passion for spreading the message of what Puppy Program volunteers achieve each day they spend with their dogs.
Maybe after reading this you’re like, “Duh, Catie! This is what we’re all here for! Building a foundation!!” But for me, this focus on foundations was a bit of a revelation, and perhaps it will be for some of you, too. Your job isn’t to “perfect” a working animal. It’s to focus on the foundations, and your efforts will never go unrewarded.
So go out there and love on these dogs as you’ve already been doing. Keep their foundations strong and know that in doing so you are equipping them to live their best and happiest working lives. And thank you for everything you’ve all done to get these dogs to us, the clients.
~Catie S.