WOMAN’S BEST FRIEND
Fluffy assistance dog is all ears for new owner... and wagging tail, too
The external components of Amy Hogue’s cochlear implant are barely noticeable, but her new medical device will be harder to hide – it’s got four legs.
Say hello to Mindy – a certified assistance dog who’s trained to nudge Hogue when she hears a knock on the door or the sound of an alarm clock – and then some.
Born deaf, Hogue, 33, welcomed Mindy into her home on Dec. 3 after waiting more than a year for an assistance dog. The two-and-a-half year old, Labrador-Golden Retriever mix was donated to her by Dogs for Better Lives, a nonprofit organization in southern Oregon dedicated to providing assistance dogs for the deaf, children with autism and other medical needs, all over the country.
She and the lopey, treat-loving four-legger hit it right off.
“I love it,” said Hogue. “It’s not just the sense of security she provides me. It’s the sense of companionship and affection.”
Mindy didn’t arrive alone. She was delivered by Jess Reichmuth, a certified assistance dog trainer from Dogs for Better Lives who stayed with Hogue and Mindy for five days to help rehearse them in their new routines.
“She alerts to sounds,” said Reichmuth. “If someone comes knocking on the door, she’ll source the sound. She’ll go and poke Amy with her nose and lead Amy to the source.”
Mindy is trained to alert for the smoke and carbon monoxide detectors in Hogue’s home, her cell phone alarm, a knock on the door and the sound of someone calling Hogue’s name.
While she’s mainly trained to assist Hogue at home, anybody who frequents Woonsocket Harris Public Library will soon get a chance to see her there, too. Hogue, who has a job at the circulation desk in the Clinton Street library, plans on taking the dog to work with her on a regular basis.
For most of her life, Hogue was considered profoundly deaf – a medical term that basically means one completely lacks the ability to hear any sound at all. Though it’s hard to imagine the condition worsening, Hogue says that when she turned 20 or so, that’s exactly what happened.
Several years ago, she was outfitted with a cochlear implant, which includes components that are surgically implanted in her brain and an external earpiece. The device sends auditory signals to her brain, substantially restoring the function of her inner ears.
The cochlear implant sounds like a miracle device – and in many ways it is, says Hogue. But it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
She likens the device to a pair of eyeglasses that pull everything into exceedingly sharp focus. There are times when the wearer might want or need all that detail, she says, but other times – at home relaxing, for example – when it’s intrusive and unnecessary.
Sorting through the abundance of sensory data the implant provides is “work,” says Hogue, and she’s not always up for it.
“I don’t necessarily want to hear with the cochlear device all the time,” she says. “It’s sensory overload. It’s uncomfortable.”
That’s where Mindy comes in. After a day at work, Hogue says she can unwind at home and not have to worry about missing any important sounds if she detaches the implant because Mindy is there to pick up the slack.
Reichmuth says Dogs for Better Lives had been training Mindy at its facility in Central Point, Oregon, for about seven months before she was ready to meet her new master. On average, Reichmuth says assistance dogs like Mindy represent an investment of about $30,000 in training and veterinary fees before they are turned over those they serve. Hogue paid just $50 to apply for a dog and she was later interviewed in person by a staffer to determine whether she was a good candidate for an assistance dog. She later received a letter from the organization advising her that she’d been approved and had been placed on a waiting list.
Reichmuth says many of the assistance animals that Dogs for Better Lives takes in come to the organization as rescue dogs, and its budget is largely donation-driven.
Even though Hogue was hoping for a smaller dog than mid-sized Mindy, Hogue has been pleasantly surprised by how good a team they make. Hogue, who also suffers from anxiety, says there’s something about walking alongside a big dog that strengthens the spirit.
“Overall, having her next to me gives me more confidence in general,” says Hogue. “Having her next to me reduces that anxiety feeling a bit.”
Hogue, whose parents are both teachers at Mount Saint Charles Academy, lives completely independently, despite her condition. She has long known that she could benefit from an assistance dog, but held off on seeking one precisely because of her struggles with anxiety: She’s isn’t sure she could live with herself if she had to leave the dog at home all day while she was at work – she’d be sick with worry.
She changed her mind, though, after her brother asked her to babysit his dog while he went away for a few days not long ago. When he was gone, she became so attached to the dog that she didn’t want to give it back when her brother returned. That’s when it dawned on her that an assistance dog – one she could take to work with her – would solve all her problems in one fell swoop.
The trainers emphasize that assistance dogs like Mindy should never be pampered too much or allowed to go unreminded for too long that they have a job to do – particularly when they’ve got their work vest on.
But Hogue says Mindy isn’t just a working dog – she’s a pet that she loves.
“At the end of the day if she wants to lay down next to me and cuddle, she’s more than welcome,” said Hogue.