‘My dog saves my life every day’
He can load the washing machine and pay for shopping. Wendy Hilling tells Cara Mcgoogan how Teddy has made her braver
The day started like any other. My husband of 26 years, Peter, had popped next door to our garage and I thought I would make him a sandwich. I was having soup; all my food is puréed, because I was born with a medical condition that means I cannot swallow solids. But, for some reason, I decided on this occasion that it wouldn’t hurt to pop a piece of cheese in my mouth. I was wrong.
The cheese lodged itself firmly in my throat. I couldn’t breathe. My face started to swell and the room was spinning. I fell to the floor and, as I did so, saw my 11-year-old golden retriever, Teddy, open the back door and let himself outside. I remember thinking, “I am dying and Teddy has gone out to play.”
The next thing I knew, Peter was thumping my back and trying to get me to breathe. Teddy had, in fact, gone to get help. Hearing his bark, which Teddy had been trained to use in an emergency, Peter ran to the kitchen and found me blue in the face and choking. After some hard thumps, the cheese finally came up, ripping the lining of my throat.
Teddy, who has been trained as a Canine Partner, was awarded a PDSA (People’s Dispensary for Sick Animals) commendation award for saving my life. Yet, this was not a one-off act of bravery.
I have a genetic disorder called recessive dystrophic epidermolysis bullosa (EB), which causes my skin to be as fragile as butterfly wings. It has been estimated that 5,000 people are living with EB in the UK and 500,000 worldwide.
It means that my skin tears at the slightest knock. Huge black blisters form inside and outside my body. I have to burst them to stop them spreading and leaving scars, or becoming cancerous. Turning over in bed, getting dressed, touching things and walking can all be painful and dangerous. If I fall, I lose skin to the bone.
My parents were told it was unlikely I would live beyond the age of 10. If I did survive, I would never live a normal life: work would be hard and children out of the question. Now 68, I have battled the odds and done so many of those things. But that’s not to say it hasn’t, at times, been difficult.
When I left school after my O-levels, I saw a job advert for a telephonist and decided to go for it. My doctor and parents told me I wouldn’t be able to cope. And they were right, in a way. The headsets we used caused me to lose layers of skin on my ears. It was incredibly painful and I can still feel the effects now. But I was determined to save enough money to buy a pony. My parents were horrified. They tried to get the doctors to stop me; but I had long been obsessed with owning a horse. Although my hands and legs were sore after riding, I never regretted it.
Later, I gave up work, married and had two children, Robert, 41, and Rhiannon, 37. During my second pregnancy, the lack of elasticity in my skin caused me to start miscarrying at four months. I had to stay in hospital until Rhiannon was ready to be born. Neither of my children inherited EB. The doctors said that because the condition is so rare, they had as much chance as anyone else of being born with it.
Since 2007, Teddy has played a major role in keeping me alive. I met my miracle dog when he was four weeks old, just before Christmas 2006. An all-white puppy with black eyes and nose, it was Teddy who chose me. Leaving his litter, he ran over and buried his head in my hair. At nine weeks old he came to live with us. From then, with the help of the Canine Partners charity – which has given me vital support – I trained him to help me.
After a decade by my side, Teddy can load and unload the washing machine, open and close doors, and pick things up. He can carefully pull T-shirts over my head and even remove my socks without touching my painful toes. When we go to the shops, he carries my purse and pays for items at the checkout. Sometimes, he sneaks a muddy toy into the wash when he thinks I’m not watching.
Before we got him, Peter had become my carer. He gave up work in 1993, after I fell seriously ill, and would look after me around the clock. My condition means that my throat can close up while I sleep, stopping me from breathing. Peter used to stay awake, while I slept, just in case this happened. Today, it is Teddy who keeps watch, listening in case I stop breathing. He is trained to wake Peter and call an ambulance, via a special phone.
It is common for people with my form of EB to develop skin cancer. Amputation is often the best way to stop it spreading. Recently, abnormal cells were found in a wound on my thumb and, last week, I had a second biopsy to see how far they have spread. I have been told doctors may have to remove at least part of it to prevent further damage. Teddy has special dispensation to come to the hospital with me, and wait outside the operating theatre.
But it’s not all work for him.
I take Teddy for a walk at least once a day in Lancashire, where we live. He likes to run free and play. Because my condition causes my toes to turn under, movement is painful. So we go on my scooter, or my husband pushes my wheelchair. Teddy bounces along beside me. We always meet people along the way; he spreads happiness wherever he goes.
He is full of mischief. He once stopped a bus to the beach, even though we weren’t going there. He always wants to take home teddy bears he sees in shops. We find it hard to say no, so our house is full of bears, in different shapes and sizes.
Having Teddy beside me has helped my mental strength. He is always there to watch over me. I used to worry about going outside; now I just concentrate on what Teddy needs. He is the best painkiller I could ask for.
He has also given me the confidence to achieve my dreams, such as going to art and sign language classes. I worried about people staring, as they always used to. But now they don’t see me: they just see an amazingly clever dog.
I could never have been so brave without Teddy. My happiness has made me realise how isolated I was before. I hope we can spend the rest of our lives together. You can take my thumb away, but you can’t take my dog.
My Life in His Paws by Wendy Hilling is published by Coronet (£8.99). To order your copy for £7.99 plus p&p call 0844 871 1514 or visit books.telegraph.co.uk Canine Partners is a beneficiary of this year’s Telegraph Christmas Charity Appeal. To make a donation to this or one of the other charities supported in our appeal, please call 0151 284 1927, visit telegraph.co.uk/charity or see the advert on page 22