Service Dog

Today was errand day. Talos loves errand day. It's the day when he gets to greet his public. When he holds court. When he's the center of attention. Oh, how T loves errand day.

It's not nearly as much fun for me, of course. Because I'm the one doing all the work: hauling the groceries, making the deposits, loading the car, spending the money. And, of course, holding the leash for Sir Talos. Who I really think believes errand day is Talos Day.

You can't really be in a hurry and take a service dog in public. Because if you're in a hurry, you'll get grumpy really quickly. And that's not fun. Not fun for the people who are curious about the big, blue-eyed dog, for Talos, or for me. I add an extra hour for every two hours I think the errands should take. So if I could go out — by myself — and get the errands done in an hour, I know with T it'll take at least an hour and a half. Today's errands took four hours. And I've still not unloaded the car.

What's it like to take a dog into stores? It's…different. I'm so used to it now, though, that it's relatively normal to me. If I have friends with me, though, they always ask "Isn't it weird that everyone stares at you?" I gotta say that I don't really notice that anymore.

Taking a dog into a store is only difficult when the dog is a puppy — still learning about the world. When they're pups, I'm in training mode. I carry treats with me, I'm on the lookout for learning opportunities — or for potential scary situations. I'm always looking ahead, thinking ahead, trying to stay one step ahead of the pup, both literally and figuratively!

I have to pace myself so I don't tire the pup out. I have to time my errands around feeding schedules (because feeding schedules predict bathroom schedules). I have to be ready to head home if the pup is overwhelmed or wiped out.

But with a veteran like Talos, errand day is a breeze. He still learns a lot about the world – I don't think we've had an outing where he didn't learn something or wasn't exposed to something new. But he also enjoys seeing the sights, meeting the people (especially the kids!) and investigating his surroundings.

He's not a big fan, though, of errand days that involve Costco. He loves going in to Costco, he simply doesn't like the end result which is a crowded car. When I pile all the groceries in the back, he wants to sit in the front. Which wouldn't be a problem except he doesn't fit. He hasn't fit in the front seat since he was five months old! Here's a video of one of the last times he was in the front seat. We'd had a full morning of errands:

Errand days are good for him because he's continually exposed to all things related to life in public. When he's paired with his new person, he'll likely be in public every day, so these experiences are very important to his education. And it's kinda fun to run errands with my four-legged best friend!

One year ago today, a little Great Dane appeared. He was but a wee thing. He could actually fit on my lap quite comfortably.

One year later, that itty bitty Dane is a giant. He's 150 pounds of goofy. And he still likes to sit in my lap. 

He's come a long way in one year. Three weeks after coming to live with us, he attended his first public event: a social media conference at the Frederick Chamber of Commerce. A little wee pup then, he slept through most of it (thankfully). As he grew, it became clear he was fond of public events so we attended another conference together. We were also brave enough to actually present at a social media conference. He was the ultimate professional – he laid quietly while I gave my part of the presentation.

I'd always wanted a Dane so when the service dog agency mentioned trying a couple out, I signed on immediately. I knew I'd love a Dane, but it's one thing to love a breed of dog and whole other thing to actually live with a dog that large.

He's messy – his mouth leaks when he drinks. And drool flies when he shakes his head. He's a furniture hog: he takes up 3/4 of the couch and an entire half of the bed (sometimes more). He's big, he's clumsy. He's absolutely goofy. He's a leaner and will knock you over if you're not careful.

And oh how I love him. I love his big-ness. I love his blue eyes. I love his crazy brown spots. I love when he lays his gigantic head on my hand when I'm scratching his chin. I love the one tail thump when he hears me come into the room. (Danes, unlike Labs, dole out tail wags much more judiciously, as if they're very expensive.)

And as I celebrate Talos' one year anniversary, I must also acknowledge that every day we get closer to the date when I must take him back into the service dog agency. It's a bittersweet job. One one hand, there's thrill of seeing a pup grow into a well-behaved dog. There's also the absolute joy of being able to enjoy taking him everywhere I go: to the doctor, grocery store, conferences, everywhere.

But on the other hand, well, that's where I fall apart. I won't dwell on that side of things here. This is a celebration of Talos' one year anniversary with us.

After the woe is me post from this morning, this is just what I needed to read about a dog from Service Dogs of Virginia! I need to focus on the good that Talos will do and try not to focus on the heartache looming in June.  

Here's a great story about a service dog from Talos' agency who's helping an eight year old boy who has autism.

Talos won't be an autism dog, but rather a brace dog – he'll help someone with balance issues. Someone who has multiple sclerosis, cerebral palsy, or something that affects their gait or their balance. 

It's a pleasure to see dogs and people partnered together and enriching one another's lives. There will still be heartache when I turn Talos in. And it will last until Graduation Day when I hand Talos' leash over to his new partner and they begin their new life together. 

The tears have started. 

Talos is oblivious to the changes heading his way. 

This is the worst part of raising a service dog. The goodbye. It would be less painful to rip my heart out and jump up and down on it.

As soon as I got the news, my mind was racing trying to figure a way to keep him just a few months longer. Maybe I could keep the new puppy AND Talos until September. Maybe they could find someone else to raise the new puppy so I could hold onto Talos longer. 

Finally, my maddeningly logical husband told me I was just making it worse by dragging it out that way. That I should rip the bandage quickly, not prolong my agony. Just let him go, he said. 

Easier said than done. 

I hope there aren't too many typos – I can't see the screen for all the tears at the moment. Give me a few days, I'll put on my big-girl pants and will recover. Slightly. I hope. 

I always wonder what the dog thinks when so much changes. Does he wonder where we are? Does he think we abandoned him? Will he be happy? How will they know exactly what each grunt or sigh or woof means? Will they know to rub him under his chin? Will they be able to help him if he's startled? Will they appreciate him putting their head in his mouth (I happen to love it). 

Oh dear. This is going to be a rough day.