If I hide in Mama’s SAR gear, will she take me with her?
It’s been nearly two years since we lost Ace and adopted Deuce, and so much has happened! I came to the conclusion that Deuce is not going to be a therapy dog, that is, until he’s about 13. My husband and I say, “Same color. Different dog.”
Deucey is smart as a whip, easy to train and he picks up new skills at lightning speed. He is also headstrong and driven, athletic and strong. He’s social and loving and very obedient, but nobody would know it. When he’s around people he kind of loses his mind. All the training goes out the window. He runs like Secretariat. I love him.
He has something like 15 commands mastered on hand signals alone. He does lots of silly tricks and can wait 15 minutes on a “long down” before he’s given permission to eat his dinner. He loves to train and loves to work.
We’re working on his skills. We’re working on it every day, but it became pretty clear that he isn’t cut out for therapy-dog work and needed a different job. That’s when I started working out with my local search-and-rescue K-9 unit. While Deucey and I aren’t officially part of the SAR team yet, in the next few months I’ll be certified to support a K-9 handler as a flanker. Deuce’s future is still unclear as we work hard on the fundamentals and practice those skills every day. (Come when called, anyone?)
The search K-9s are strong and beautiful and talented and marvelous. They’re German shepherds — one minute fierce and terrifying, and the next they’re curled up on my lap. I have a lot to learn from these skilled dogs and their dedicated handlers, who have adopted me as one of their own. I’m eternally grateful.
I’ve started a new blog for ramblings about SAR K-9 work. It’s not open to the public just yet, but I’ll let you know when it is. Thanks for traveling this crazy path with me.
Therapy Dogs Heal. 