Tales of courage, heroism and love
Assist dogs guide those who cannot see and listen, and those who cannot hear. They carry out physical tasks for people with mobility challenges, offer emotional support and are the everwatchful companions for those with medical conditions.
The dogs have saved lives and allowed lives to be fully lived. Often there are tales of courage and heroism, and stories about love.
Through a series of 41 interviews, journalist and award-winning freelancer
has compiled the stories of dogs working in assistance roles.
Through the interviews, Allison reveals the unique bonds between people and their assist dogs, including the heartwarming and funny moments they have shared as they negotiate life together.
Below is an extract from
Liz and Paddy
St Patrick’s Day, March 17, 2015: A black puppy is born into this world and christened Paddy. It will be his destiny to bring the luck of the Irish to awoman when she needs it most.
‘‘Paddy is my lucky charm. He has givenmemy life back,’’ says Liz Gasson. That life had been brimming with activity, despite a sequence of autoimmune-related health issues that had confounded doctors since her arrival as a premature baby. When Liz noticed numbness in her leg as a sporty 14-year-old, she put it down to a pulled muscle. It never fully recovered, but didn’t slow her down.
A competitive athlete with a passion for the outdoors, she was a runner, swimmer, surf lifesaver and kayaking coach. She loved the thrill of both white-water rafting and rockclimbing, and used her skills to encourage those less able-bodied, designing a rock-climbing harness for children in wheelchairs and teaching children with disabilities. On the side, she had a degree in education, masters in communication and is in the process of completing a PhD in educational psychology.
It was more than a decade before the full ramifications of her numb leg became apparent.
‘‘One night I had a bad headache and when Iwoke, the side ofmy face and fingers were numb.’’
Medical investigations followed and words like ‘‘stroke’’ and ‘‘brain tumour’’ were bandied about. But it was the words ‘‘multiple sclerosis’’ that Liz read, upside down, on the report on the neurologist’s desk. And her world did just that: ‘‘I was told I could be in a wheelchair in six months. My whole world turned upside down.’’
Diagnosed with relapsing and remittingmultiple scleroses, Liz’s life became a rollercoaster of bad and better times. ‘‘I would have an attack, then go back tomy base line.’’ She had just got engaged when the official diagnosis was made. ‘‘My husband,
David, has been with me through thick and thin.’’
Told they were unlikely to be able to have children, the birth of their son, Johnathan, three years later was an unexpected joy. But when he was 2, Liz had a particularly bad episode.
‘‘I couldn’t walk more than 20 metres without assistance or move my fingers. It was really terrifying,’’ says Liz, who became dependent on David and her mother, Kay, who called in several times a day, to help with the smallest tasks. ‘‘I decided that if I was going to be in awheelchair and this disease was going to take my life down a different path, then I needed some support. I didn’t want to be a burden on my family.’’ Liz applied for an assistance dog, but was warned there could be a seven-yearwait.
As it happened, that didn’tmatter as her health settled. She was even back running again when she got a phone call to say her application had got to the top of the list. What’s more, the trainer was in town with a black Labrador who had been destined for someone else but the match hadn’t been right. She wondered if Liz would like tomeet him. ‘‘Paddy came straight in the door and sat next to me and that was it. I asked if therewas any way I could have him, and she said ‘he’s yours’.’’ The trainer arranged to spend a week working with the pair, but that very first evening the process was fastforwarded.
‘‘We went out for awalk and I fell. We went up a bit further up the street and I tripped and fell again. The next morning I woke feeling really unwell andwith numbness,’’ says Liz. It turned out to be the onset of a massive attack that affected her speech and cognitive abilities as well as her mobility.
Paddywent to work immediately. ‘‘The next day he came to hospital with me. He sat with me through scans and comforted me when I was in tears.’’ Liz couldn’t climb onto the bed so David, who had to carry her everywhere, made a nest for her on the floor. ‘‘I slept there for two weeks with Paddy lying at my side and he hasn’t left it since.’’
Paddy reads her every need. ‘‘If I’m off-balance, he slows his pace and helps me up and down steps,’’ says Liz. When she is wheelchair-bound, he helps pull it along. Hewill ‘‘tug’’ her out of bed or chairs using a special rope with handles, and on ‘‘brace’’ stands firm, so she can use his body for support. He opens doors, picks things up and fetches the phonewhen she is immobilised. Once, when she fell in the bathroom dislocating her jaw and unable to speak, he raced to get Johnathan instead, pulling him to the bathroom before pushing a button connected to emergency services for good measure.
For her family, Paddy’s presence has brought peace of mind. ‘‘My son said ‘now Paddy’s got you I can go to school and not worry about you’.’’ For Paddy, a cheeky and energetic dog by nature, work is pure pleasure. ‘‘He loves learning new tricks and carrying out his tasks. You can see him thinking ‘what else can I do?’ He’s like an overly helpful child.’’
If Liz drops things at the supermarket, he trots along picking them up and putting them in the trolley. Although on one recent shopping trip, hewas behaving very strangely. ‘‘He kept taking my hand in his mouth and trying to pullme to the ground,’’ says Liz, who was in a rush to get her son to sports practice and had gone without breakfast. ‘‘He kept getting in my way, even lying in front of the trolley. Iwas getting superannoyed with him, but when I got to the check-out, I collapsed. It turns out I had some blood sugar issues I hadn’t been aware of.’’
Liz, who has posters of Wonder Woman on her wall as inspiration, musters every ounce of energy to pursue her love of physical activity when she is well. Her motto is: ‘‘There is always a way, you just have to find it.’’ So when the discovery of spinal lesions put paid to any plans to run again, she took up cycling. Six months later and she is now a para-cyclist, part of Paralympic New Zealand’s High Performance Athlete Development Squad on the pathway to the Paralympics.
‘‘I’ve done more in the two years I’ve had Paddy than in the previous 10,’’ she says. ‘‘I wouldn’t have had the confidence to dowhat I have done if he wasn’twith me.’’ It’s one thing not letting an affliction slow you down, but another making it speed you up and take on more challenges. But then, anything is possible with a Wonder Dog at your side.
Being doctor dog
Paddy is skilled when it comes to medical dia-dog-nosis. He sat and refused to move once when he was out walkingwith Liz. Shortly after, her heartwent into abnormal arrhythmia and an ambulancewas called. Paddy insisted on riding on the gurney with her, and had to be covered with a lead blanket when he refused to budge during an X-ray. During another hospital stay, he padded out to fetch a nursewho discovered his sleeping mistress’s blood pressure had dropped to a dangerous level.
Super dog
No-one except Paddy noticed when a small boy got his foot caught in the handrail at a public swimming pool. Liz was reading a book by the pool when Paddy started nudging her in the direction of the child, whowas lying backwards struggling to keep his head above water. The boy, who the labrador later consoled by licking his face, declared his rescuer to be a ‘superhero’.