Moving on and giving up.
Upon further review, that title makes things seem much worse than they are.
As some of you may or may not know, McCoy officially failed out of training at the very beginning of November.
It was a combination of things. Not only will I not be comfortable asking him to bear my weight, but to expect him to move at my quick pace day in and day out produced a limp that, subsequently, stressed him out. It wasn't fair. So he's officially no longer a service dog in training and, on the 18th, is being brought to his new home in Akron, Ohio, to live with a wonderful couple who already have a Newfoundland.
I'm upset, absolutely. But on the other hand, I know he'll be happier there than he is here. They're experienced with food allergies and already feed their Newf, Bear, a food that McCoy has doe well on; they've owned Newfs for years, so McCoy's puppy shenanigans won't be a problem. They're very much dog people, which is always a relief. I was seriously concerned when faced with the decision to rehome him that he'd go to someone who wouldn't treat him like I do... they have already started buying Christmas presents for him.
As I've discussed in the past, a large dog is an inconvenience and I will never, ever, ever do it again. I absolutely LOVE giant breed dogs and in a heartbeat I will have a Newfie or a Dane as a pet, without question, for the rest of my life. But as a service dog, no. I'm going to end up just relying on forearm crutches permanently (and a wheelchair when I need it) instead of looking for a balance dog. It's inconvenient, and impractical, and though some people are content to deal with the million and one problems that come with it (I had to get his gear custom made, for example, and he's been stepped on a bunch of times because he literally does not fit places) I'd sooner use a chair full time than try to work with a giant breed SD.
So...
That brings me to my next point.
I've been matched with a chocolate labrador puppy from Phoenix Assistance Dogs of Central PA. His name is Biscotti, and barring any crazy things that might pop up, I'll be paired with him sometime next year, putting us as a functioning (in training) team for Fall semester. He's a baby yet so he's just learning his manners in public and at home, CGC foundation work, and task training foundation work like nose targets and paw targets. I'll be heading down to the program every 2-4 weeks depending on finances to work with him and practice, so we'll have a bond before he comes home. In the meantime, I'm saving for his placement fee and trying to get by.
It's funny. I have worked with a SD for the last three years, and suddenly I don't have one anymore. It's this funny loss of independence... I can't do stupid crap most people take for granted. Most people open a door to go into a store without thinking about it- I have to make sure I'm steady enough to do so, tug the door open and catch myself on my crutches and the door with my foot at the same time, then try to get through it without getting hit by it or tangled up in my own body. I've been known to not pick things up just because it's hard. I get bumped even slightly and I go down like a tree... my dog would body block so I don't fall over and help me up if I did, instead of me struggling like a fish out of water on crutches.
Oh well.
Next year, indeed.
As some of you may or may not know, McCoy officially failed out of training at the very beginning of November.
It was a combination of things. Not only will I not be comfortable asking him to bear my weight, but to expect him to move at my quick pace day in and day out produced a limp that, subsequently, stressed him out. It wasn't fair. So he's officially no longer a service dog in training and, on the 18th, is being brought to his new home in Akron, Ohio, to live with a wonderful couple who already have a Newfoundland.
I'm upset, absolutely. But on the other hand, I know he'll be happier there than he is here. They're experienced with food allergies and already feed their Newf, Bear, a food that McCoy has doe well on; they've owned Newfs for years, so McCoy's puppy shenanigans won't be a problem. They're very much dog people, which is always a relief. I was seriously concerned when faced with the decision to rehome him that he'd go to someone who wouldn't treat him like I do... they have already started buying Christmas presents for him.
As I've discussed in the past, a large dog is an inconvenience and I will never, ever, ever do it again. I absolutely LOVE giant breed dogs and in a heartbeat I will have a Newfie or a Dane as a pet, without question, for the rest of my life. But as a service dog, no. I'm going to end up just relying on forearm crutches permanently (and a wheelchair when I need it) instead of looking for a balance dog. It's inconvenient, and impractical, and though some people are content to deal with the million and one problems that come with it (I had to get his gear custom made, for example, and he's been stepped on a bunch of times because he literally does not fit places) I'd sooner use a chair full time than try to work with a giant breed SD.
So...
That brings me to my next point.
I've been matched with a chocolate labrador puppy from Phoenix Assistance Dogs of Central PA. His name is Biscotti, and barring any crazy things that might pop up, I'll be paired with him sometime next year, putting us as a functioning (in training) team for Fall semester. He's a baby yet so he's just learning his manners in public and at home, CGC foundation work, and task training foundation work like nose targets and paw targets. I'll be heading down to the program every 2-4 weeks depending on finances to work with him and practice, so we'll have a bond before he comes home. In the meantime, I'm saving for his placement fee and trying to get by.
It's funny. I have worked with a SD for the last three years, and suddenly I don't have one anymore. It's this funny loss of independence... I can't do stupid crap most people take for granted. Most people open a door to go into a store without thinking about it- I have to make sure I'm steady enough to do so, tug the door open and catch myself on my crutches and the door with my foot at the same time, then try to get through it without getting hit by it or tangled up in my own body. I've been known to not pick things up just because it's hard. I get bumped even slightly and I go down like a tree... my dog would body block so I don't fall over and help me up if I did, instead of me struggling like a fish out of water on crutches.
Oh well.
Next year, indeed.