When I adopted Chimette, as a six month
old unsocialized, timid Border Collie mix puppy in June 1997, there was
no way I could have known how dramatically he would change my life.
As an individual with multiple disabilities,
I had become accustomed to the *naysayers*- you know- those people who
insist you have bitten off more than you could get your mouth around, let
alone chew... the ones absolutely positive you will come crawling back
to them to hear, *I told you so*.
I have never been a quitter in any facet
of my life, but I will be the first to admit that my self-esteem and outlook
on life were pretty bleak before Chimette came along. Despite this, I had
always been that one individual who finds the only path that will solve
the problem- even if it meant traversing a maze of uncharted waters where
there was truly only one solution.
My journey with Chimette was to prove
no different than any other obstacle I had conquered. I remember in those
early months, frequently thinking *what have I gotten myself into*. A number
of times I actually considered returning him to the rescue- in fact, one
time I was actually on my way back there with him. He was quite literally
one royal disaster! This would eventually prove to be much more than that
typical *rescue puppy syndrome* which stemmed from the effects of abuse
and no socialization (a horrible mixture for any Border Collie) but he
also had a severe case of separation anxiety and what would down the road
prove to be vaccinosis. His separation anxiety went deeper than a reaction
to being left home alone. Just focusing on something other than him for
more than a few moments would bring it on like a tornado touching down
unexpectantly. I could be busy cleaning up one mess he made while he would
lay not 5 feet behind me creating another major disaster. There were moments
when even I, the success driven individual, really was questioning the
stupidity of adopting that *puppy in the window*
But then just as I was feeling I failed
Chimette, a real-life miracle began to unfold. He finally seemed to *get*
that hitting would not happen in his new home and that he was here to stay.
The ritualistic screaming that was present anytime I groomed him was replaced
with absolute pleasure when the brush came out.
Then came that one defining moment- you
know the one where you just know you have a brilliant gem on your hands.
Being profoundly deaf, I used signal devices for common household sounds
such as the doorbell, telephone, and smoke detector. I was resting when
the signal device for the doorbell malfunctioned. At that time, Chimette
was only 8 months old and not allowed on my bed at all. The device had
remained on rather than the bulb turning off at the end of the cycle. Eventually
it overheated which led to it smoking. He tried numerous times to get me
to *listen* to him. After I still did not come so he could show me what
he needed, in desperation he jumped up on the bed refusing to take *no*
for an answer. I believe that not only did he save my life that day, but
that he also literally changed- taking on his *calling* in my life.
Prior to this event, I had accepted that
his *issues* probably made him a poor candidate for public access; however,
I knew that he could be a very effective in-home hearing dog. Though I
would love to say that from this point forth everything flowed uneventfully,
that wasn't the case. In some weird way though I think how hard we had
to work together to bring Met to a healthier emotional place has a lot
to do with the bond we would continue to develop as the years unfolded.
Over the months ahead, I began to see signs that Met was really settling
into our home, our life- that the shell he came to me with that refused
to let anyone get close to him was beginning to erode and a wonderful,
spontaneous, instinctive, intelligent, energetic dog was emerging from
within it. It was positively exhilarating to watch this unfold. Though
the exhilaration would diminish a couple more times over the years ahead
before almost claiming his life, we would finally connect this to a cause:
that of vaccinosis. Life with Chimette could never be labeled as boring!
By April 1998, Met had not only overcome
most of his hang-ups of baggage he came to me with, but he was helping
me to safely navigate so that I could continue with my classes at the local
community college. He was still in training, but had proven himself time
and again. He was only 14 months old and for a Border Collie that is a
youngen'. Unlike some of the other breeds more commonly used for service
and guide roles, the Border Collies that do succeed can take a long time
to mature into their role as assistance dogs. That meant working a *green*
dog for quite some time. I am not sure when it was really that being teamed
with him became more benefit than work for me. I believe he was around
4 years old when it really dawned on me how well we worked together. Met
had become an amazing combo dog: trained to help me with hearing, mobility,
and guide tasks. Initially though I never really felt that I would be able
to fully trust him as a guide should my visual loss falter to the point
of legal blindness. I felt with his herding dog instincts and desire to
check out the world around him, he would never be able to make those quick
decisions that are so often necessary for a fully trained guide dog. I
did not realize then that my limited expectations were actually limiting
us as a team. After our move to Oregon and subsequent continued deterioration
of my vision, I joined a list that was to give us the gift of complete
independence and safety as a guide team. VI-Clicker Trainers is a list
full of other visually impaired and blind individuals who wish to use clicker
training principals to train or further develop the skills of their guide
dogs. It is here that I learned that Met and I really could succeed completely
as a guide team. I was able to be in touch with others who train their
guides and not only learn some better strategies but learn from the mistakes
I had made so that I could enhance Met's *base* training with much more
than I had ever anticipated possible.
Over the years we made many a journey
together to new terrain. During these jaunts, Met proved himself again
and again to be a very reliable guide, not to mention the best hearing
and service dog I could have ever hoped to be teamed with. There were many
incidents of hard traffic checks where Met just knew he had to protect
me from some idiotic driver who was acting like there was no one else on
the street but them. I can recall one incident so vividly when Met jerked
me over quickly to an area where he liked to *busy*, but for an entirely
different reason. Had I not trusted that he knew what was right here, I
could have been seriously injured when some guy running from the police
literally drove up on the sidewalk where I had been not five seconds beforehand.
Once my stomach was back down where it belonged out of my throat, Met got
a big jackpot of praise and treats for that one believe me. This was to
be the shining moment that let me know we had really made it as a guide
team- that we could do anything. Since then, Met and I have made several
trips on transit navigating areas that we had never dreamed of attempting
before. We have dealt with narrow streets that had no sidewalks, forcing
us to frequently pull over into the shoulder for cars. Each trip we made
out of our normal comfort zone, gave us that much more confidence about
our capabilities together. Since then we have even traveled by paratransit
to another county by ourselves to get Met the better veterinary care he
so richly deserves in his older age- certainly a great accomplishment for
both of us.
When I look back over the past 9 1/2 years
of devoted service I have received from Met, my main thought is, How could
I be so lucky to have such an awesome sidekick! Then I wonder how I made
it so many years alone without a wonderful dog like him. It truly has been
an incredible journey- one I am sure will never be matched again.
© 1997 - 2013
by Karyn LaGrange
