The past few months have been rough for the blogging team here. Trying, exhausting, and absolutely tragic. There are some things in life that you can never plan nor prepare for. The end of this past year was very much that. My partner in crime lost her service dog suddenly to what vets could only theorize was a neurological disorder. I pulled Loki from public access work maybe permanently though I am still seeking a second opinion on his training issues.
My writing partner has a new puppy in training, new years and new beginnings and all that. A puppy co-bred by the breeder we'd earmarked for 4-5 years down the road for her, but sure didn't expect to be getting so soon. And I have Remy who is still on again, off again in training.
None of this is ideal, but it's a matter of making the most of what we have. I've often told people that in the good times working with a service dog is like dancing with your life partner of 40 years. So in sync with each other that you breath in time, and every motion is like an extention of yourself. Closer than husbands and wives and daughters and sons a service dog is more like and arm, a leg, the air you breath.
If working your own service dog is like dancing with your loved one, working a strange dog is like dancing with a stranger. Each is different, some you can follow intuitively in natural sync, other's stumbling stepping on toes and running into you, turning what should be poetry in motion into an effort of frustration and distinct discord. Training a young dog, and teaching someone to dance with a partner also have many things in common. Even if you know the moves your partner does not, you never know until you're midway into the dance if this partner can match your rhythm with grace, meet you in a breathless moment of freedom and flying.
Nothing feels right at the moment, unsettled like the ground beneath me could buckle up and swallow at any moment. This is not the all of training a new dog, there are moment's of brilliance, and it's easier when you have time to prepare. But I would say more people wash out second dogs than anything else when owner training. That transition from one partner to the next is hard enough, but from first partner, the one who set the bar to one that you can't help comparing it can be a near insurmountable task to move past the 'what ifs' and 'why can't you work forevers' to let in that new dog.
I love Remy, she's not a bad dance partner in that sense. She is in many ways great for me, she has a sunshiny energy that makes me smile. But as she turns a year old... today, tonight as I write this I'm just not sure that she's 'that' dance partner. Oh we could dance, and it would be technically correct in many ways but it lacks that spark. She can do the work, I have enough experience at least to admit that. I hold her back more than she holds me back. And all else fails I know we'll find joy together as competition partners... but if we'll dance along the light of day, or trip the light fantastic is still up for debate.
My writing partner has a new puppy in training, new years and new beginnings and all that. A puppy co-bred by the breeder we'd earmarked for 4-5 years down the road for her, but sure didn't expect to be getting so soon. And I have Remy who is still on again, off again in training.
None of this is ideal, but it's a matter of making the most of what we have. I've often told people that in the good times working with a service dog is like dancing with your life partner of 40 years. So in sync with each other that you breath in time, and every motion is like an extention of yourself. Closer than husbands and wives and daughters and sons a service dog is more like and arm, a leg, the air you breath.
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| Emma the Borzoi and Handler |
If working your own service dog is like dancing with your loved one, working a strange dog is like dancing with a stranger. Each is different, some you can follow intuitively in natural sync, other's stumbling stepping on toes and running into you, turning what should be poetry in motion into an effort of frustration and distinct discord. Training a young dog, and teaching someone to dance with a partner also have many things in common. Even if you know the moves your partner does not, you never know until you're midway into the dance if this partner can match your rhythm with grace, meet you in a breathless moment of freedom and flying.
Nothing feels right at the moment, unsettled like the ground beneath me could buckle up and swallow at any moment. This is not the all of training a new dog, there are moment's of brilliance, and it's easier when you have time to prepare. But I would say more people wash out second dogs than anything else when owner training. That transition from one partner to the next is hard enough, but from first partner, the one who set the bar to one that you can't help comparing it can be a near insurmountable task to move past the 'what ifs' and 'why can't you work forevers' to let in that new dog.
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| Baby dog isn't so much of a baby anymore |
Dancing with Strangers