Life on Wheels

Chapter 4: Meeting the Dogs

Chapter 4: Meeting the Dogs

So I’ve been at this new rehab center, Crown City Rehab, for almost a week now. Samara was transferred here a few days ago, but we couldn’t get a room together. We spend our days together though after our morning therapy sessions. Within the first few days, Samara requested to be moved out of Taylor’s section. Since then, we’ve only grown closer.

Today we are being introduced to a group of guide dogs that we will be paired with to make our transitions back into society as seamless as possible. There’s talk of a shopping trip planned for the beginning of next week, but we have to find a suitable dog first. A group of 12 new patients at the rehab meet in the large training room after breakfast. A group of therapists is in the middle of the room. One steps forward to address the group.

“Good morning everyone, and welcome to the next stage of your road to recovery. I’m going to explain how this is going to work, so please pay attention. We are going to bring the dogs in. Let them approach you. They pick you, not the other way around. We’ll get everyone paired up and then start showing you the basic handling techniques. At the end of the session, you’ll take your dogs with you. They are to stay with you. They go everywhere you go. Teach them to pick things up. Teach them to open doors. The commands and signs used for that sort of thing is completely up to you. Train them as if this is the dog you are going to keep. After a week we’ll meet again in here to see how things are going, and to discuss different things. Trainers will be watching you. If you come across anything you’re not quite sure how to handle, we will be all over to answer questions, or to fit in a mini lesson to help you better understand your dog. If we find you and your dog are having some problems, we can switch dogs and try that. Remember there’s a learning curve to this. The dogs can sense your emotions. Be safe, be consistent, and most importantly, have fun!”

The trainers bring the dogs into the room. Most are labradors, but there are a couple of golden retrievers as well. There are other types of service dogs, that the rehab uses, like poodles, for other kinds of work. A few of the dogs come up to me and sniff me, but none seem overly interested in me, until the black lab comes by.  I try to ignore him, because I would much rather be matched with a golden retriever. He walks by me the first time, but keeps looking back. The trainer picks up on this, and lets the dog lead the way. The curious young dog walks up to me, sits down right in front of me, and plops his head in my lap.

“Well I think Otis has made up his mind. Looks like we’ve got a match here,” the trainer says.

“I was kind of hoping to get a golden retriever,” I try.

“Remember it’s up to the dog. The more comfortable they are with you the more willing they will be to listen to you and help you,” the trainer explains.

She attaches the dog to my chair and starts to go through different training techniques. At the end of the session, the trainer, Mandy, decides Otis is a good fit for me. She releases him into my care.

I return to my room with my new partner in crime. I transfer onto my bed. Otis lies down beside my chair. I see his ears twitch when the doorknob turns moments later.

“Samara!” I exclaim.

“Yeah I was able to transfer into your section,” Samara explains. Her attention turns to Otis.

“Meet my new roommate, Otis!” I say excitedly. Otis perks up at the sound of his name, but soon puts his head back down.

“Was that your group this morning?” she asks, recalling something.

“Yeah, I just got back,” I explain.

“I was in the therapy room next door and I wondered what all the commotion was. I wonder when I’m being placed,” Samara comments.

“I’m sure you’ll get your turn soon enough,” I say, noticing her jealousy.

“You’ve been here a lot longer than me,” She points out.

“Uh, OK, if you count four days as a lot longer,” I say sarcastically.

“I just mean you were higher on the waiting list for the dogs. I don’t even know if I am going to qualify for one. I hope so though. I think a dog would be a great benefit at this point in my recovery. It would help me keep my mind off of that horrible day-” Samara starts trailing off.

“Samara you can’t think of that anymore. I know it’s hard, but try and think about the future. I can’t wait to get my independence back.” I say, trying to make myself believe what I am saying. “I’ve never been one to be the always-happy-never-negative kind of person, but since my accident, I’ve been able to see life in a whole new light.”

“I guess you’re right,” she says.

The rest of the day goes by fairly quickly, but I’m sure it will still take time to get used to the idea of having a dog do things for me.

The following day, I learn that Samara is also getting her dog, but much earlier than expected. I am thankful for this, because now I have someone that I can bounce ideas off of. Someone other than the trainers. Someone that will probably be in a lot of the same situations as me. Someone who will understand the struggles I am inevitably going to be facing in the upcoming weeks.