Becoming a Service Dog Handler: Is A Service Dog Right For Me?

I’d never considered the possibility that a service dog could help me until the day I flipped on the TV and saw a woman — a mom like myself — who also had a similar mobility disability. She was being interviewed for a news story and sitting there beside her was a gorgeous yellow Labrador Service Dog. At that moment, something in my mind clicked and I wondered if a dog like that could help me, too.

There are many ways of mitigating a disability, from medical equipment to therapy, and everything in between.  For me, living with chronic pain and limited range of motion in my hips is something I’ve always had to deal with.  I think living with a chronic disability can become so ‘normal’ that it’s easy to forget there might be things out there that can help.

But wait a minute…a service dog?  I wasn’t blind, or in a wheelchair.  Would anyone give me a dog like that?  How disabled do you have to be to legitimately require the help of a highly trained dog?  Would people question why I need one? Was a Service Dog right for me? I started doing some research and discovered that service dogs weren’t only for those who couldn’t see or walk. In fact, Service Dogs can be used for many different types of disabilities.

I soon realized that if I was serious about this idea, I’d have to make a decision. I could either apply for a dog from an organization that trained dogs for just such a purpose, or I could acquire a suitable puppy and take on the training myself.

From my own research I saw there were pros and cons to both options.  On one hand, a program trained dog would be completely trained and ready to go, but, the waiting lists were long and, with many, the costs were very high, with no guarantee I would ever be matched to a dog.  Self-training a dog would guarantee I’d have a dog, but I wasn’t sure I would be able to adequately train a dog myself.  Also, what if the dog washed out? I’m not sure I was emotionally prepared for that. I contacted a few Service Dog teams that I found through blogs and message boards, and, while the owner trained dogs were amazing, I realized I just didn’t have the physical stamina to take on such highly specialized training.  For me, a program trained dog was the right option.

Researching all the programs was very time consuming; there are many across the country, but none exactly like another.  I needed a dog that could be trained in mobility work, so I thought about my life and pinpointed things a dog could help me with.  I approached the research with the idea that the Service Dog tasks that would be most helpful for me and my disability were retrieval, brace and balance work, as well as some unique things like the ability to gently tug a sock off my foot. The research was exciting, but a little scary too.  My disability is largely ‘invisible’ with the only outward sign being a slight limp. My excitement was tempered by the anxiety that some people would think I was just lazy, or not ‘disabled enough’ to warrant the support of a Service Dog.  However, I knew that, ultimately, what everyone else thought didn’t matter.  So I persisted, spending countless hours researching training programs all across the United States.

Once I identified some programs that trained dogs for the tasks that I needed, I started contacting  the organizations to find out what their application processes were like.  I was dismayed at first, because many of the programs that I thought looked perfect for me had waiting lists of two years or even longer.  Still, I knew that being patient was a virtue that would definitely pay off, so I began to narrow the list of programs down.

In the end I found Paws in Prison in Arkansas, just a couple of hours away from where I lived in Southwest Missouri. I really loved the fact that inmates were used as handlers for the dogs, and that the dogs actually lived in the prison environment.  I was told by one of the contacts from the organization that I’d probably have quite a long wait before they’d be able to train a dog specifically for me, but I really liked the concept and I decided to go ahead and apply.

Much to my surprise, a few short weeks after sending my application to Paws in Prison, I received an email. “We have a black lab in the program that I think would suit you well,” the email read. “His name is Jasper, and he is going to be an awesome dog. Would you be interested in being matched with him?” Pictures were shared over emails, and I asked about a million questions, before it was decided: Jasper, the black Lab in the prison, was mine. And the next huge phase of my life — learning how to work with Jasper — was about to begin.