How Yorick the hearing dog transformed his owner’s life
WhIle my sister was staying for the weekend two years ago, she started apologising profusely over breakfast for the noise made by her young family. Apparently her two-year-old had screamed the house down in the night. But no apology was needed. I’m so deaf without hearing aids that wild herds of tap- dancing elephants wouldn’t wake me.
undisturbed sleep is a benefit of deafness. Screaming child? You’ll have to do better than that to rouse me. My sister was shocked. She asked what would happen if there were a fire alarm in the night? I answered, honestly, that I’d sleep straight through it.
She said I should get a hearing dog. I laughed. hearing dog? Only deaf people needed them. She raised an eyebrow.
I have only 20 per cent of normal hearing. Yet admitting having this disability is something I have struggled with; hence my reaction to her suggestion.
Initially, the more I thought about a hearing dog, the more I worried: am I deaf enough to warrant one? It turns out I am. And over the past three months my life has undergone a seismic change all thanks to a ridiculously cute, but highly-trained, cocker spaniel named Yorick.
Before he came along I had made many changes to cope with my hearing, but sometimes it was just easier to be alone.
My deafness crept up on me. It began about 25 years ago with me forever asking: ‘What?’, turning the TV up and missing bits of conversations. At first I wondered if I was simply not listening.
The background noises we take for granted were slowly sucked out. Sounds such as birdsong vanished — but because it was a creeping decline I didn’t notice.
I knew my hearing was bad, but I chose not to confront it. Instead, I began using coping mechanisms. I had to see someone’s lips as they spoke. It was in 1995, when a friend spoke to me from out of my range of vision — and I didn’t hear a thing — that I couldn’t ignore the severity of my problem.
My GP referred me for a hearing test which showed I’d lost most of the central frequencies — the areas that cover speech (and birdsong) — and I’d need hearing aids. The question was why? I was only 25. I had no family history of deafness; I didn’t work in a loud environment (I’m a writer). The simple answer is no one knows. But my hearing has been getting worse ever since.
My sound- dampened world is complicated by a nasty side-effect: tinnitus. There’s little to be done about it other than cope.
Fortunately there have been huge improvements to hearing aids. I’ve been lucky — my hospital has fitted top-quality digital aids that bring sound directly into my ear via a minute speaker.
Yet no amount of geeky wizardry can replace the ear. It effortlessly filters out unwanted noise and captures the important stuff. My hearing aids will never be as good, but I’d be lost without them.
My life has changed in many small ways — and of late it has changed again — this time very much for the better, thanks to Yorick. After my sister’s visit I found myself searching online for information about hearing dogs, and contacted a charity called hearing Dogs for Deaf People.
The application was easy and an information pack soon arrived. I learned that each dog costs about £20,000 to train. They use various breeds — but need bright, inquisitive animals that are quick to learn to react to certain sounds. The basic criterion for acceptance is significant deafness in both ears; I was surprised and, strangely, flattered to be told I was eligible.
I was told that it could take three years to have a hound matched. But after just one year I was emailed a photo of a black cocker spaniel. Might I be interested? It was love at first sight.
A few weeks later Yorick was brought to stay with me to see if we liked each other. We undoubtedly did. he’s a feisty mutt, full of character, just what I’d asked for. Then he was taken back for his final month of training.
Yorick has been in my life only three months, but I can’t imagine a world without him. his role is to be with me at all times, especially at night in case of a fire alarm.
each day we practise sound work. he alerts me to the doorbell, timers, the phone and fire alarms. his help is reassuring, and if my hearing deteriorates further it will be vital to help me lead an independent life.
he’s charismatic and friendly, and draws people to him — and thus to me. No end of passers-by want to stroke him, although most are respectful if he’s wearing his hearing Dog coat.
his presence in my life has been revelatory. I had no idea the company of a creature that makes me laugh so much, that shows such unbridled love (tempered by the cupboard) and is so universally adored could make such a difference, except he has.
Most of all he’s refocused and changed my life — he’s made me a better, happier person.