Service Tails Page 9

  In 1999, Jenny made a call to Leslie Rappaport and explained Scott’s situation. A meeting followed. After evaluating the man’s specific needs, Leslie returned to Kings Valley Collies and began working with a large, sable collie. Over the next few weeks, the trainer tried to duplicate the environment of the Cawleys’ home and the various obstacles that were found in the area where the family lived. The dog was going to have to be comfortable with all types of public transportation, behave properly in social settings such as church and school, and keep his focus while being surrounded by active and loud children and a few curious cats.

  Beyond dealing with the home and community, Lion, the collie Leslie felt was the perfect choice for this job, had to develop a sixth sense that went well beyond what was usually required of service dogs. Since the stroke, Scott was not always easy to understand. He also sometimes forgot words or got them out of order. So Lion was going to have to read his body language to know when Scott needed help getting out of a chair or was starting to lose his balance. This meant the trainer was going to need to simulate those situations as well. It took weeks of additional training to cover all the unique parameters of this particular case. Only when Leslie felt completely confident in the dog’s ability did she bring Scott and Jenny to her training center and teach them what they needed to know to make this marriage of canine and human work.

  Lion had no problem dealing with Scott’s physical issues with balance. The dog was able to read, by the man’s grip on the harness, if he needed to slow down or stop. When he sensed the man teetering on steps or struggling to get up from a chair, even if the wrong command was issued, Lion would lean into Scott to provide him support. Yet there was something else the dog quickly learned that escaped all human logic. Even before Scott felt the dizziness that caused him to lose his balance, the dog sensed it and pushed the man toward a chair. Lion’s forecasting Scott’s vertigo showed just how deeply the collie focused on his job, but how he was able to do this remained a mystery.

  Within a month of placement, Lion had reopened the door to Scott’s world. With the dog leading the way, the Vietnam vet was back in church, going out to eat with friends, and attending the kids’ school activities. Lion even accompanied Scott on bus trips to the veterans’ hospital. Jenny was able to relax for the first time in years, confident that when Scott was alone, the dog was there to meet his every need from bringing him a newspaper to retrieving a ringing phone.

  Beyond the safety factor, Lion also provided companionship to a man who had been lonely and frustrated since his stroke. And because the dog saw him as a whole person rather than a damaged soul, Scott began to see himself that way as well. He was once more able to laugh and joke. He felt more comfortable around people. So while he still moved slowly and his steps were not as sure as they had been before the stroke, while he still at times searched for words, he carried himself with confidence once more.

  When Scott was out in public, Lion changed perceptions in a way no human could. The collie was beautiful, almost Lassie-like in bearing, and folks wanted to get to know him. That meant countless people came up to speak to Scott. To adults it provided him with a line of communication, and to kids it made Scott cool. The pride that the man displayed when showing off Lion was the best medicine in the world.

  Every service dog is unique, and when that dog is off harness, that personality really comes out. Leslie’s choice of canine to match with Scott went beyond just filling the man’s physical needs. The trainer knowingly picked a dog that would also bring laughter into the man’s life.

  Lion was a comedian. He had been that way as a pup. Off harness, he just loved to do things to make people laugh. He would sing along with the church choir, comment on television programs, and react to everything that happened at home. He found ways to aggravate the family’s cats and tease the kids. During the day, likely with Scott’s urging, he would find toys and hide them. Later Lion and Scott would innocently watch as frustrated children turned the house upside down trying to find what the dog had hidden. When no one was looking, Lion would even steal wrapped Christmas presents. Day in and day out the dog found ways to keep things interesting, and that was as important to Scott as having Lion bring him physical stability.

  When a death in the family forced the Cawleys to fly back east for a funeral, Lion was there to guide Scott safely through the airports. Over the coming weeks, as the family reflected on the loved one they had lost, the dog took on a new role; he found ways to comfort both Jenny and Scott.

  Lion was also the key to the family being able to take vacations. With the dog watching over Scott, Jenny and the kids were able to go out on their own and see the sights without fear or guilt. If Scott wanted to leave the hotel room while they were gone to do a bit a bit of beach walking or shopping on his own, Lion made sure the man’s steps were safe. So while the dog had not been able to give Scott his old life back, Lion allowed the man to enjoy life and be secure in his new reality as well as provide the gift of independence for Jenny and the kids to fully embrace their lives and live their dreams.

  Lion developed one more valuable and unexpected trait. People who have suffered a stroke like the one that felled Scott are easy prey. Thieves and bullies often take advantage of their disability. Somehow, the dog had no problem identifying trouble. When someone who seemed untrustworthy approached Scott, Lion kept his body between the intruder and his owner. No one was going to take advantage of Scott while Lion was on duty.

  Lion served Scott for five years. When the big guy was felled by cancer, Leslie Rappaport trained a second collie to take his place. In 2004, Ramsey stepped up to the plate. This dog would face new challenges, one of which would require the ultimate sacrifice.

  By the time Ramsey joined the family, Scott’s condition was growing worse. His legs were now weaker, and he needed more help walking up ramps, stairs, and on uneven ground. Ramsey easily handled these chores. When Scott used a wheelchair, Ramsey was strong enough to pull the man where he needed to go. Yet it would take a major fall to prove the dog as a real lifesaver.

  On a day when Jenny was out of town on business and the kids were at school, disaster struck. Scott was moving slowly through the house when he lost his balance. Though not on his harness, Ramsey was still carefully watching the man. Within a second of Scott’s falling, the dog was by his side. After licking his face and receiving a weak pat on the head, the collie stepped back to assess the situation. Getting into the proper position, he poised himself to help Scott up, but the man was hurt too badly to move. Ramsey again paused and studied the scene before him. Somehow sensing he could not do what was needed, the dog ran to a table and retrieved the phone. He then brought it to the man and dropped it into his hand. Scott was just aware enough to make the emergency call. Within minutes a team was there to help. If it hadn’t been for Ramsey’s training and instincts, Scott would have been there for hours and might have even died.

  With Scott’s condition slowly deteriorating, each day offered new challenges. No longer was it just a phone or television remote that needed to be located and brought to the man; now it was a fork or spoon. Even during moments when Scott was not able to issue the right command, Ramsey somehow figured out what the man wanted. Thus, at a time when many in Scott’s situation were being sent to a home for veterans, he was able to maintain a degree of independence while remaining with the family he so loved.

  Ramsey was in his fifth year of service when the Cawleys took their four youngest children on a dream vacation to Disney World. The excitement of the July trip was immediately dampened when Jenny discovered there had been a mix-up on their hotel reservations. Unable to find rooms at any of the chains, the family opted for a cheaper motel along the beach. On the first morning, Jenny awoke before Scott and the kids and took Ramsey for a walk. Along the way she ran into folks she had met the night before. As she stood close to the water, the dog began to whine, pushing on the woman as if trying to get her to continue their walk. Jenny ignored the coll
ie until finally Ramsey stepped around her and froze. Shocked by her normally well-behaved dog’s rudeness, Jenny looked down to scold him and spied a coral snake. If Ramsey hadn’t moved between her and the water, the most poisonous snake in the country would have likely bitten her. It was a now frightened Jenny who yanked the dog back from the water and hurried away from the snake. Once they were at a safe distance, one of her new acquaintances pointed out that the dog had just saved the woman’s life. As she glanced to Ramsey, he shot back an expression indicating it was all in a day’s work. But Jenny knew better; she and Scott now both owed their lives to the big collie.

  Back in their hotel room, Jenny shared the high points of the morning walk with her family and amazed them with the story of Ramsey saving her life. To reward him for his service, the collie was given the morning off. As the Cawleys hurried off to breakfast, Ramsey seemed more than ready to catch up on sleep. An hour later when they returned, the dog was in the midst of a seizure. Though he had shown no reaction earlier, a hurried exam by the panicked family revealed the coral snake had bitten the collie. A veterinarian was quickly called in, but there was nothing that could be done. The snake’s highly toxic venom was already crippling the canine’s vital organs. Within an hour the dog was dead. The great irony was that while Ramsey had given his life in service to Scott, he had given up his life for Jenny.

  The family’s dream vacation was transformed into a nightmare. They had lost the dog whose skills had made this trip possible for Scott. Without Ramsey, the man’s steps were once more unsure, and there was no way of forecasting when the vertigo would set in. As the family toured the amusement park and visited the city’s other tourist meccas, their dependency on the dog became more and more obvious. Without Ramsey, all of them were lost.

  When Jenny notified Leslie of the events leading to Ramsey’s death, the trainer went back to work. She already had a large, handsome, sable collie that would fit the family’s needs; but before she could give him to the Cawleys, the dog would have to learn how to read Scott’s body language. In a very real sense this was like a college graduate going back to school to earn a master’s degree. When the trainer was completely secure that Brynn knew his stuff, she invited Scott up for bonding and training.

  Initially Brynn served the family just as Lion and Ramsey had. He gave Scott a sense of independence and companionship, taking a load off Jenny’s back, and played the role of family pet for the Cawleys’ growing children. But in June of 2010, after less than a year on the job, the dog’s role dramatically changed.

  For fifteen years, Scott Cawley had battled a series of medical issues brought on by the Agent Orange he was exposed to while serving his country. Finally his body gave up the fight. The loss was devastating to Jenny and the children. Yet, just as Lion had first provided a light in Scott’s dark world, Brynn’s humor, energy, and compassion cut through their depression as well. As Jenny struggled to manage work and to raise the children, she would look at the dog and see a reflection of her husband’s positive nature. It was as if a part of the man she loved was still there. And just as her husband had not wanted his illness to keep her from an active life, the dog that had served her husband wouldn’t allow her to stay home either. Brynn wanted to get out of the house, and taking the dog out pushed Jenny back into the church, school functions, and outings with friends.

  Three dogs served Scott Cawley. Lion provided him with a sense of independence and the will to live. Then Ramsey saved both his and his wife’s life. Finally, Brynn embraced Scott’s desire for his wife to have a full, rich life and pushed her back into the world rather than let her sink into depression. While it was Leslie Rappaport’s training that provided the foundation for each of these collies’ service, it was the dogs’ ability to grow and to meet unexpected challenges that proved their real value. They provided the balance to keep those they served moving forward.

  Hope

  Hope is being able to see that there is light despite all of the darkness.

  Desmond Tutu

  Sometimes desperation can be the world’s greatest crippler. It paralyzes our abilities to act, move, and take risks. It pushes us into the darkness and keeps us from seeking the light. To refind the light, we often need a guide—someone who knows where we want to go and has the courage to lead us there. Some guides are angels, but maybe there are others who walk on four legs and give those they touch the chance to fly.

  Becky Peterson was a bright, outgoing, energetic teen. The pretty girl from Providence, Utah, was also vivacious, popular, and athletic. She set goals and worked to meet them. Hence her friends thought of her as sweet but determined. A born optimist, she saw a future with unlimited possibilities and couldn’t wait to experience as many of those exciting possibilities as imaginable. Yet she was also much more than an adventurous soul whose dreams were focused only on herself. She had not only depth and courage but also heart and was naturally empathetic. She sensed not just pain but potential. When people were down, she lifted them up. When others lacked confidence, she pointed out strengths. When Becky entered a room, she brought with her comfort, joy, and hope. The sparkle in her eyes could turn most frowns into smiles.

  Growing up with loving parents and two older brothers, she was teased on occasion and took it in stride. She knew it was a way that her siblings showed love. When she was in high school, she was teased most often about her clumsiness. It seemed that in spite of her athletic gait and bearing, she tripped a lot. At that time, no one guessed this somewhat comic attribute was a forecast of something much darker down the road.

  When this scholar graduated from high school and headed to college, her teachers and friends most often described Becky as a world-changer. She was the kind of kid who saw beyond the moment and into the future. That remarkable vision that caused her to note and react to the world around her would no doubt pave the way for great things.

  Becky took Utah State by storm. Like a force of nature, she moved from class to class. People might have been initially attracted by her charm and vitality, but they also coveted her friendship because she cared enough to get to know them. She was a listener and friend to many, a young woman who seemed to bring others insight and hope.

  It was during her freshman year Becky met a dynamic, charismatic, handsome boy. A simple friendship turned into love, and the Utah State coed was sure that she and Steve Andrews would soon live a fairy-tale life. But even the sunshine created by the success of her first year in college and the promise of everlasting love couldn’t push all the clouds out of her world. There were problems now visiting that went beyond tripping over a stair every now and then. But what finally pushed Becky into seeking a medical evaluation had nothing to do with her vision; she was experiencing tingling in her hands.

  A general practitioner examined Becky and suggested she make an appointment with a neurologist. When a seemingly minor problem turned into a visit with a brain specialist, even the eighteen-year-old’s optimistic attitude and faith were challenged. What did it mean? Perhaps what she was dealing with was a tumor. Maybe, just as it seemed her life was about to really take off, she was looking at her last days. She never before considered her own mortality, and as she waited for her appointment, the fragility of life was put into very sharp focus. How long would it take and how many tests would she have to endure to be given a medical verdict?

  The nature of her problem would not be uncovered by an MRI or CT scan but by something far more simple. The neurologist asked Becky to put her hands out in front of her face at eye level. He then instructed her to slowly move her hands to the sides and to stop when she could no longer see her fingers. When her hands quickly disappeared from her view, the doctor nodded, grimly smiled, and suggested she see an ophthalmologist.

  On the surface, the news seemed good. Things were fine inside her head, and that made every other issue appear routine. Becky figured after a few more tests, she’d be given a prescription for corrective glasses and life would once again be back to norm
al. As it turned out, the news she received would shake her family to the core.

  The ophthalmologist quickly uncovered not just the reason for Becky’s current medical issues but also the cause of her clumsiness. She had been losing peripheral vision for years. The change had been so gradual that she had not noticed that her range of vision was growing narrower with each new day. Worse yet, there was no turning back the clock through medical science. All the tests proved the young woman had retinitis pigmentosa, which in time would leave her completely blind. The physician estimated that she would lose her sight by the time she was thirty.

  Becky heard the diagnosis and fully understood it, but she didn’t accept it. Hence, when she left the office, the last thing on her mind was preparing for a sightless future. Her only acknowledgment that she might go blind was when she gave Steve a chance to back out of their engagement. Though he likely more fully grasped her situation than she did, it did not change or affect his love. He was fully committed to her both in sickness and in health.

  Within a year, as her vision continued to fade, they were married. The couple started a family, she graduated with a degree in business, and a few years later they moved to Salt Lake City. While the focus of her life was now centered on her children, Natalie and Kendall, Becky also was working part-time. For the moment she could pretend that everything was normal and that nothing would ever change. Yet for this mother, fantasy couldn’t build a bridge to reality. By her late twenties, she could no longer ignore the diagnosis she’d been given as a college freshman. Though she wouldn’t admit it to friends, even Becky privately acknowledged she was rapidly going blind.

  In the early ’90s, just after turning in her restricted driver’s license, her diminished vision hit her in the face when she walked into a stop sign. Embarrassed and bleeding, she realized changes were coming. She also began using a cane to find objects she could no longer see. As her vision grew darker, so did her mood. Becky was now frustrated not only by what she could no longer see but also by the limits her emerging disability was placing on her life. She couldn’t take her kids to school or go shopping, she wasn’t really seeing their school presentations, and it took her more than an hour to get to work using city transportation. For the first time in her life, she was scared.