Getting some doggone help (maybe)
Applying for my first mobility service dog
“Pick it up. C’mon, Lucy, pick it up.”
Lucy has brought me one of her toys and deposited it on the floor next to the wheelchair. I, unfortunately, can’t pick things up off the floor from the chair, and so we are now in a bit of a standoff.
If I can get her to pick up the toy and pass it to me, then we can play tug, as I know she wants to. Sometimes she’ll pick it up, and I’ll praise her to the moon when it happens. Most of the time, she doesn’t.
If I can’t convince her to pick it up, then I’ll be forced to get my grabber so I can pick the toy off the floor from the chair. Lucy is typically offended by this brief detour; by the time I’ve got the toy in my hand, she is no longer interested in playing.
It’s one of the many reasons why our lovable Lucy is ill-qualified to be a service dog.
But I might be getting one… possibly… maybe…
Back in February, I put in my application to Pacific Assistance Dogs (PADS) for a mobility service dog. If you live in western Canada and see an assistance dog out with a wheelchair, odds are that it’s a PADS dog. I’ve been aware of them all my life, but I honestly never thought it was something that I could justify needing.
In my mind, a trained service dog like the PADS dogs is the Cadillac of mobility aids. Even more than a wheelchair, this is a being that has been rigorously trained practically from birth to help one disabled person live their best life. The amount of time and resources invested in this dog—from breeder to puppy raiser and all the way on up—is just wild.
Plus, not all PADS dogs make it through the training program. If there’s a chance that they are going to be a risk to their service partner or the general public, then they’ll be released from the program to live out their lives as beloved pets, although sometimes even a “failed” service dog has made other unique contributions.
In any case, as far as I’m concerned, having a service dog is like having a trained Navy Seal at your side 24/7. I didn’t think I needed that level of support, so it never crossed my mind to apply for one.
That was until my thigh bone fracture in March 2024 and subsequent 10 month hospital stay. For the past year, I’ve been trying to rehab my way back to where I was before I went into the hospital, but I’m now facing the reality that that likely isn’t going to be possible. In particular, climbing down from the wheelchair to pick things up off the floor is still extremely difficult and potentially dangerous given my wonkily-healed leg.
Picking items up off the floor is, however, exactly what PADS dogs excel at.
It was my sister who first broached the idea and, the more I thought about it, the more I began to realize how valuable that kind of support could be.
For instance, when I’m transferring to a public toilet using the lightweight, portable step stool attached to my wheelchair, I take my shoes and socks off to make my feet as grippy as possible for a safe transfer. I’ll use a retractable backscratcher that I keep in my purse to retrieve the step stool from the floor, but this trick doesn’t work on my shoes because they’re too heavy. Hopefully I can find a sink counter or the back of the toilet to put my shoes in a place I can reach, but if they ever fall down… well, I’m kinda hooped.
It’s exactly the kind of scenario where having a canine Navy Seal… I mean, service dog… would be incredibly helpful.
Yesterday morning, I had my in-person interview with a PADS assessor and one of their trainers, which represents Stage 2 in the application process. I was incredibly nervous about the interview, but overall I think it went well. The PADS folks got a chance to meet with me, my husband and Lucy, and also got a chance to look at our home environment.
They had detailed questions about my daily routine, why I wanted a service dog and the kind of support I was looking to get. I was interested to learn that the PADS service dogs are trained in very specific streams—mobility, hearing and PTSD—and, unfortunately, one can’t train a combo mobility and hearing dog simply because the two streams tend to have different energy levels. Hearing dogs need to be higher energy because they are always on alert for sounds that their partners can’t hear, while mobility dogs tend to be more laidback and lower energy. I was a bit disappointed about this as I also have a hearing impairment that will continue to progress as I age, but that was definitely not a dealbreaker.
The next step in the process will be a letter from my family doctor supporting why I believe I need a service dog, plus two character letters of reference. After that my application will be put before the applicant committee and I will either be accepted into the candidacy pool or declined. The assessor assured me that the the folks who are “declined” it’s more that PADS doesn’t believe that they will be able to find a dog to match their needs.
And, finally, even IF I become a candidate, I likely wouldn’t get a service dog for another two years.
Yes, TWO YEARS.
Essentially, since PADS service dogs are placed when they’re about 2.5 years old, odds are that any dog I might get is either a puppy right now or hasn’t even been born yet.
I’ll find out in the next couple months if I qualify for the candidacy pool. In the meantime, everyone cross their fingers and paws.
My fingers are crossed and I hope you get a service dog. I applied approximately three years ago but was declined. They are afraid that the dog might break a bone because they can’t predict how a dog will react especially when outside. I’m going to ask if I can apply again or try with a different assistance dog organization.
Crossed my fingers oh so tightly - crossed my dogs paws too. Again, as always, you widened the world for me dear Athena.