My brand new little Kenai, all of 9 weeks old–there’s hope in them thar baby eyes!

This was a really good comment left on the blog!

I love Danes, I have one beautiful female. It has to be very impractical to

teach one to be a service dog.  Will your condition worsen? Whose going to teach

a GD then?  Your going to be training one every two years if they only live 6

yrs. on average, after the 1st one. With the hip and joint problems they have.

Oh my!

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not criticizing you. I’m just thinking about the average

Dane. Emergency bloat situations? Will you be too fatigued to save your Dane?

If you can train dogs to be service animals then I applaud you. It takes a

special someone to do this. Other wise the V-8 commercials come to mind. You

could have had a wonderful service dog. With a long life expectancy. And still

have a beautiful gentle giant. Who will take care of your SDGD when they get a

bit older?

I am sincerely interested in your answers other wise I would have never posted a

comment. I’m also, sitting here glancing occasionally at my 8yr. old Dane whose

snoozing contentedly

on the sectional. I know I only have so much time left with her. I’ll be the one

taking care of her, not the other way around.

 This brings up several very good points, a few that aren’t as obvious about raising a healthy puppy when you are not. I’d love to expound on my shorter answer to the lady via email, because there’s some very profound topics here, not just about dogs, but about being disabled. I’m so glad the questions were said out loud!

Choosing a breed:

Not all disabled people have the same needs, so not everyone will find the standard labs or golden retrievers able to provide assistance. I need a dog tall enough to grab hold of without bending down or trying to grab a wobbly long handle on a harness. I can rest my hand on Kenai right now, and he doesn’t need to be wearing a harness to provide stability and balance for me. That’s a big help in the middle of the night when you need to go to the bathroom half asleep.

I also need a dog big enough, strong enough to hold my weight when I’m falling so neither of us gets hurt. A Great Dane can carry considerably more weight than a large or medium breed dog. He can pick me up off the ground too. That also means I can put more than 2 college textbooks in his future pack. I might be able to attend college full time since I won’t have to try carrying a heavy pack or walking back and forth from the car for books.

When someone is going to train a dog for service work, breed is a consideration. There is no such thing as a “perfect service dog breed”. One size won’t fit all. Each breed has its advantages, each has its disadvantages. Prey drive, retrieval skills, vocalization tendencies, herding instinct, guarding capacities, all have specific sets of problems and pluses that will affect their training. Add to that the personal preferences about long hair/short haired dogs, dogs that are high drive or lower energy…

A dog has to be matched as best as possible to the person’s needs, abilities to train, and willingness to live with certain traits. We do our best to pick wisely.   

Great Danes as Service Dogs:

I don’t believe it is any more impractical to service train a Dane than any other breed. There are many breeds afflicted with bad hips, deafness, etc. To avoid the problems of the average Dane, the trick is not to have the average Dane: find an exceptional one.

Each breed has it’s pros and cons, and the breed traits will affect their training. I wouldn’t do well with a high energy breed like retrievers or herding dogs, despite the tendency to learn fast and work hard. I couldn’t give them the exercise and extra attention they would need to be calm and easy.

I also wouldn’t be willing to keep a long haired dog groomed, or handle the typical noisiness and bouncing around that the toy and smalls breeds have the habit of. I don’t have the consistantly strong energy to keep a guarding breed from showing the dominance that makes them such good guard dogs.

There are always exceptions within breeds, but I’ve been around Danes my whole life, and I know their peculiarities intimately. There isn’t a figuring out process of what’s normal for say, a German Shepherd, and what I would need to do to redirect a drive or encourage one. I know Danes, what to expect and what to prevent.

Great Danes have advantages: Their size as both advantage and disadvantage. They are giants, tremendously strong and more than able to carry heavy loads or hold even a full grown man’s weight on their shoulders without being injured. That’s what I need.

How wracked with guilt would I be if I fell on a lab and injured them? It would be horrific. So would falling down the stairs and being injured myself because the dog didn’t have the weight and strength to prevent it. At 185 pounds, thanks be to a thyroid problem, I could do serious damage, even to a Rottie or other large breed. Kenai has seen me fall several times, and he instinctively tries to stop it. He gets very upset, and wants to help me up, walks a close to me as he can without velcro… He’s got the body and the heart for it.

Danes are legendary for gentleness, sensitivity, and loyalty. Kenai in fact is almost too sensitive, absorbing the energies and reacting to people or dogs in his environment. His brother BB’s high voltage personality can short circuit him sometimes. But I never had to teach him to alert for the asthma or anxiety, it came naturally to him at the tender age of not quite 3 months old. The migraine prodrome stage is a little tougher, and we’re working on it.

Great Danes are typically calm natured and easy going. Particularly if well socialized and gentleness is encouraged. Even as a puppy, Kenai is remarkably calm. 2 outside playtimes of 15-20 minutes is sufficient for him to be relaxed and quiet enough not to run in the house or disobey commands. He spends most of his indoor time laying down.

Not all Danes are that serene though, so once again, choosing a pup with care is important. One of Kenai’s “cousins” is doing well on a tracking course–higher energy like BB. I’ve heard of Danes on agility courses, rally, even search and rescue. That high drive and high energy is not the norm for the breed. I appreciate not having to keep track of Kenai and what he’s getting into while I try to rest! He’s laying down having a nap too.

It is common to see Danes living happily and gently with children, cats, and small dogs. A terrier can boss around a 170 pound dog! There are quite alot of poorly bred Danes these days, and more temperment problems are popping up because of ill-breeding. But that reputation for gentleness and calmness remains. Gentle Giants is their aka moniker.

Danes have drawbacks: they aren’t natural retrievers in general, but I can’t keep BB from picking stuff up and carting it all over creation! Kenai couldn’t care less, though. So if a person needed a dog to pick up stuff, they’d have to pick their Dane with great care, or stick with a retrieving breed if a smaller dog would work out.

Danes have butts that are 3 feet from their head, so finding a place to put them in a busy public area where they won’t get in the way takes more thought. Putting one under a table isn’t such a good idea—they stand up and the table does too. Logistically, having a Great Dane SD takes more planning. Their size is both an advantage and a disadvantage.

As the comment pointed out, Danes are also known for dying young from a miserably long list of diseases and emergencies. The bloodline I chose has no cancer, no bad hips, no bad eyes, no bad temperaments, long life, with a goodly number of pups entering service and therapy work. Only one of her dogs has bloated, which is awfully good odds considering the number of dogs she’s bred and sold. 

Kenai’s breeder keeps track of her pups, too, having a yahoo group for owners all over the country. I spent six months looking on the internet every day for breeders in the US, with certain required goals in mind: durability of the dog’s body, lack of inheritable diseases in the breeding lines, calm nature, and extraordinary gentleness and sensitivity. That is a tall order to fill.

I wouldn’t cut corners either, being a total pain in the whatsits. Not one of the goals would be given up, no matter how “good” the pup was at something else. My fussiness paid off: What I found was an exceptional breeder, who provided an exceptional puppy.

Kenai’s sire is the sturdiest Dane I have ever seen, and I have lived with Danes for 37 years now. Bennie could dismantle a brick wall for fun if he had a mind to, and cart it off to the dump for good measure. He’s got a staggeringly massive chest and shoulders, in perfect health at over 6 years old. Kenai looks just like him, and has his temperament too. Chip off the old block, Bennie would be proud of his son already.

When I met Bennie, I was extremely weak after driving for 2 days (SW Missouri to South Texas). I was just about to lose the use of my left leg from the tremors but I really wanted to get out and see the dogs. He skipped the usual doggie greeting rituals and went straight to sniffing the left leg. Then he made a fortress of himself on my left, letting me lean on him, and even warning off the playful females. Bennie provided help and protected my space without a single moment of training for it. That was innate, and Kenai has it too.

So with almost excessive concern for the health and temperament of the breeding lines, I found a more than average Dane, with a more than average probability to be working well up into the years most Danes are being put to sleep. To protect that health, I take great care in providing the best nutrition available and have been just as finicky about picking a vet.

I have done everything I could to ensure a long working career and longer life for my Dane. Once you’ve done all you can, you have to do your best with what happens.

How my disability affects the care I can provide for Kenai:

Emergencies happen. Those long long legs Danes have get broken, dogs with no family history of bloat develop a GDV, and every myriad of danger possible can happen despite the best care and caution. My weakness and the size of a full grown Dane mean I’m not likely to be able to pick him up and carry him, though I have carried a full grown Dane with a broken leg before. Adrenaline is potent stuff. For me there is no such thing as too fatigued to get up and get Kenai to an e-vet. The one good trait I got from my father was a fearsome will.

If I can’t lift Kenai, I have 3 people I know would turn up in a heartbeat to help me. Good friends you can rely on are indispensible when you have a disability. If Wade and Melba aren’t home, I have no problem calling someone else or walking up to total strangers and asking for their help. What I can’t do for myself, I have learned to manage—that carries over into all aspects of my life.

For example, he is a puppy and needs exercise, which means I’ve found ways to provide his exercise while not asking more of myself than I can sustain. He doesn’t want to fetch, but he loves playing hide and seek. So I let him get pretty far away, hide behind a bush and call him. He rocket runs a 3 acre field while I stand still. Creativity and problem solving is a way of life for people with physical challenges. Ya gotta have a can-do attitude to even try training a pup.

When Kenai does get old, and it’s time to retire, I can get another puppy. I expect he’ll be around 7-8 years old then considering the weight he will carry affecting his joints more than his relatives who won’t be working dogs. If I choose to get a pup then, and Kenai has the desire, he’ll actually do most of the training, showing the little tots how to get things done just by doing it. The power of the pack, as Cesar Milan calls it. I’ll have to encourage, reward, and help, but not as much as I would without Kenai.

If Kenai doesn’t have the tolerance of another pup, or feels a bit jealous, then I could wait for another tiny toddles until he passes away, which is likely to be a decade or more thanks to my unyeilding insistance on good health. Some dogs, especially those as tight with their handlers as service dogs are, don’t always handle their replacement well. I’ll leave that choice up to him.

Either way, I keep Kenai the rest of his life. His home will always be with me, whatever the cost or effort. It’s the least I can do. I own him, yes, and am responsible for him. But I have a philosophy about my Special K some might take exception to: I don’t own Kenai so much as owe him.

All dogs get old, stiff and have troubles eventually. I will do everything that can be done to mitigate his old age issues, even if it’s hard on my physically. I’ve done it before, and for Kenai I would tear down mountains. If he needs me, I’d come up off a death bed for that boy. He is the top priority to me, and if other things like laundry or dinner would interfere with his needs, they get canned.

I go out in cold rains, ice, mud, and anything else just so he can have a playtime, and it hurts. I take some Tylenol, grit my teeth, and give what he needs because he loves me. He doesn’t need all that much, really, which is good. Again, a fearsome will is how I do it. If it’s too hard, I come up with a way to get what he needs despite my own limitations. 

That’s the deep bond possible between a service dog and their owner: they give to us, and when it’s time, we give to them. Self-sacrifice is contagious. The disabled may not find that care to be as easy or as straight forward as it would have been for a healthy person, but we problem solve pretty well.

There are some people so severely disabled that there isn’t much they can do. I am fortunate enough to be able to do what it takes for him to have the same independence and joy he gave me when he’s an oldie. If that changes in the future, it is not within my ability to forsee or prevent. Emergencies happen to people too. 

But to not have a service dog in case my health deteriorates so drastically, keeps me living in fear of the “what ifs”. There is an element of faith involved in my getting Kenai: I can see what is probable, sometimes guard against what is possible, but what will be isn’t up to me. All I can do is live now and do my best.

It’s something often overlooked or used against us, but the disabled can get by without a dog: the blind can return to a cane, the weak can return to a walker or chair. Dogs make our lives immeasurably better, much easier, and vastly more independent. But there are many with disabilities without a service animal. I’ve managed without him, sometimes despite him with his puppy energy and moods.

Raising a puppy is no small undertaking, and an old dog, even a sick one doesn’t take nearly as much sustained physical effort. If I can get my sweets through his puppyhood and adolescence, I can get him through his crochety old fart days too, God willing and the creek don’t rise! Again, the element of hope and determination come into play.

When I took on Kenai as mine, I took on the challenges, the possible illnesses, the good, the bad, and the hairy. I did it because he’s willing to do it for me. My relationship with him is almost spiritual. I need his help, and he even now gives it willingly and joyfully, if a bit wavering because of his young age.

What service dogs give to us is more than any walker, cane, power chair, or person can provide. They give us independence and do it while protecting our dignity. Have you ever had to ask someone else to help you dress, to take a bath, to buy your groceries? It can be embarrassing, and depressing. Looking out into my weedy mess of a yard is a reminder that I have limitations, and it hurts.

But a dog does things in a way that helps you do it for yourself. Just figuring out what to teach them reframes the way you look at your disabilities. A service dog gets you thinking about what you can do, instead of what you can’t. They make possible activities that weren’t possible before. They bring hope and fun and acceptance, which inspires a tremendous loyalty, at least in me.

If Kenai gets hurt somehow and cannot work for me, he can still mitigate the loneliness, despair and depression that afflicts so many disabled people just by being in my weakness with me. If he can’t carry a pack, he’ll have a vest and go where he can with me for the medical alert and anxiety relief. If he can’t do that either, he will be the best companion, and someone else to think about, a reason to try a little harder when it’s easy not to try for myself.

How my illnesses affect his training:

My problems are chronic, which means they will never go away. I will struggle with the effects the rest of my life unless someone comes up with a cure. But they are also “episodic”, so there will be times when I am more functional than others. It is during these times that much of Kenai’s training happens. When I’m not so strong, we try to just maintain what he knows. I haven’t gotten really laid low since he’s been with me, but there will indeed come a time when that will happen.

The thing is, a service dog has to adjust to their owners. Dogs are remarkably adaptable. But it isn’t always easy. Kenai had a “week off” while we sorted out his overly-stressed emotions, and when we started up with the outings again, the start was bumpy. But he has to learn to adjust to my waxing and waning strength. It will be easier as he matures.

The disabled ask a lot of their service animals, even as puppies, and that up and down is one of the biggest challenges for them: living with a sometimes disrupted routine and a sickly owner. It is the challenge of a service dog in training that can pull a person out of the woe-is-me attitude. They test us, refine us, teach us, love us, and make us a better person for it.  

I am not the same person I was when Kenai was born: I have patience with him that amazes me, and I can’t make myself take credit for. I am willing to do all kinds of stuff for him that I wouldn’t for a person. Guaranteed I wouldn’t search out dead frogs or gross stuff just to teach my nephews to leave it alone!  He has made me face and dispose of some bad attitudes I didn’t even know I still had. Challenge is an opportunity in disguise.  

I know this was a long post, but it is an important one. I hope I did the questions justice, and explained things well enough. I’m quite foggy right now, with a brute of a chest cold, so the post is wordy and perhaps a little wandering. Perhaps I will edit it later, maybe make a page out of it. That has to wait for the fog bank to disappate!

How glad I am for this comment—perhaps it will help others understand the challenges the disabled face in their daily lives, and give an appreciation for the power of creativity and tenacity.

There is an excellent link on the blogroll called living with chronic illness–a very good read and a wonderful way to help a healthy person understand what it’s like to prioritize and be forced not to do things you want to do. Very well put!