Dog Blogs We Love

My ears alert me to something awry. My sweet dreams of grassy fields and tasty treats have been interrupted by unknown sounds. I’m used to the occasional rumble of a car out on the road, but this was very different. This sound came from inside my home.

I drop down to the floor, the jingling of my tags and the patter of my paws the only noises for now. Whatever it was has stopped, but still my curiosity has gotten the better of me. After a sniff of the air, I exit the room and proceed to investigate.

My eyes take a while to adjust to the darkness as I navigate from room to room, searching for the source. Then I catch the scent of something new. An awkward smell, then it’s joined by food- an assortment of food at that. Like there’s a festival going on and no one bothered to tell us about it.

I enter the kitchen, the smell now filling my senses, only to discover a catastrophe has taken place. Food and garbage are everywhere! A shadow moves and dives for an open window. I bark furiously at the invader, angry that the trespasser has destroyed my lovely home.

I’m still barking furiously when the lights flicker on. The old man stands there, his own eyes squinting in the blinding light. I proceed to tell him about the invader, but his expression is grim as he observes the scene for himself. Please, you gotta believe me…

The old man wasn’t too happy with the situation. He blamed me for destroying the kitchen. But I guess I can’t blame him. The culprit got away clean as a whistle, leaving me holding the consequences. That just won’t fly- not in my home.

So here I am, waiting for trouble to arrive. The day flew by, and the old man had softened up by afternoon. He brought some new foods earlier, but I could tell he was still a little upset with me. My usual treats were forgotten, and even the affection was neglected.

The sound of leaves rustling pulls my attention to the open window. It stays open to let the fall’s cool air in. While it might be good for the atmosphere, I am sure that it is an irresistible entrance for any thief- a guilty thief that not only took our food, but took my pride as well.

I’m up in a flash, and move to hide in the shadows near the window. I want to catch the vermin once he’s done the deed, so that I can clear the good name of Rocky. Then I see them, the little paws…or are they hands? The critter pulls itself up and through the open window. After the thief approves of the area, it slumps to the floor and waddles to the cooler. I manage to wedge my nose behind the edge of the window and swing it closed, blocking any escape.

“I have you now!” I pounce without mercy. Well, maybe just a little bit of mercy. After all, I’m a nice pup. The thief screeches in alarm and pins itself against the wall and stands up on its hind legs just like a man. Then I realize that the culprit isn’t much bigger than me. I can handle this situation with ease. “I have you now, thief!” I bark furiously, calling for the old man to see.

The lights flash on, just like I had planned. A raccoon stands, very afraid, in the corner. “It’s just a baby raccoon!” the old man says drowsily.
I tilt my head in wonder. I study the critter and agree. It’s too tiny to be grown up. “Where’s your mama?” I ask the thief. “You’re in trouble now.”

“Mama!” the raccoon squeaks, its eyes lighting up.

“I’ll call Christy, she’ll know what to do with you,” the old man said timidly as he picked up his noise box. He always speaks at it, but I still can’t figure out why. It doesn’t do any tricks like I can.

I’ve still got the critter pinned to the wall when our neighbor, Christy, arrives. She has her own crate, ready to capture the villain. It takes a bit of skill and a little luck, not to mention a handful of sweets, but she gets the baby raccoon in the cage. She talks to the old man for a few minutes while I sniff the area to make sure everything is secure. I give one last bark at thief as they leave.

“See, it wasn’t me!” I tell the old man. A relieved expression proves his agreement. Then he offers a few words of approval- and a long neck rub as he carries me back to bed. That feels so good!

Author:

Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own Rocky Adventures.

Today has started off so well. Last night’s party has left us both a little tuckered out. We both stayed up late, scaring the “monsters” with our own costumes. So while the old man was sleeping, I helped myself to a little bit of the leftover pie (but please don’t tell him). Izzy’s lady companion makes the best apple pie, and no matter how I try, I can never resist the temptation.

I continue licking my lips clean of the guilty crumbs as I settle down on a comfy spot on the sofa. The sun shines in on this particular spot, keeping me warm inside the cool house. I yawn a bit, and lay my head down to nap- and let my tummy settle back down from all the excitement.
I awoke to the sound of the old man’s third leg thumping around in the hallway. I can see he’s a bit lively despite his recent nap. He has my leash in his hand, telling me it’s time for walkies. And I couldn’t agree more. I’ve the urge to relieve myself suddenly. He latches on as I lick his hand in excitement. Walkies has to be one of the best times of the day (next to eating, of course).

The door opens and lets the sunshine light up the day. Then after a moment to adjust the old eyes, we head out into the world to see what trouble a couple of fellas can stir up. We start out by giving me a moment to do my business and then it’s onward, towards the end of the block.

The old man’s third leg clomps on the sidewalk behind me, the rhythm telling me to slow down or speed up. I found that it’s so much easier to walk with him than to try to walk him around like all the other dogs around here do. I think it’s so funny when I see their little legs working furiously as they tug their companion around instead of just keeping pace with them. I’ll be honest- I tried it, and found that half the time I couldn’t even breathe because my collar was choking me.

“Hey, Rocky!” a voice interrupts my thoughts. I turn to see an old friend, his head hanging over the Johnson’s fence. Either that pup was trespassing, or Mrs. J got herself a new friend. I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt.

“What’s up, dog? How you doin?”  Ace says to me through the fence line. He was always a mischievous rascal, looking for trouble just so he could dig a deeper hole. But, I have to admit, we used to have some fun times together back before we were taken to the cages.

“Well, it looks like someone got a new friend,” the old man says as he reached out to pet Ace’s bobbing head. I don’t care though. Okay…I got a little jealous.

“Hey, what say you and me get out of here and dig through some garbage for stuff we ain’t supposed to eat? I can’t stand it here. The old lady keeps feeding me this crunchy stuff, and they get mad at me when I do what I want.” Ace tells me with a wily grin on his face. “I’ll come get you tonight. Then- we can bust the other guys out and really show the town!” Ace finished his proposal by dropping back down off the fence and proceeding to chase his tail. Real geniuses.

I tell him that idea is not his best one. Ace stops and turns his attention to me, his expression puzzled by my choice. I tell him he has a good home, and that all dogs need a two-legged friend. I motion to mine and tell him that sometimes they carry a spare around. Dogs and their peoples are made for each other- helping, loving, and caring for one another, so that together they can handle anything life throws their way.

I bid farewell to the tail chasing Ace, and we head off down the way. He’ll probably forget everything I said in a few minutes. But I won’t. I look up at the old man and think to myself: I sure am lucky I found you.

Author:

Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own Rocky Adventures.

Though we enjoyed our treat without interruption, the night would not end there. For the two of us, that sugary apple pie has actually given us a second wind. And now, the youngsters, still dressed in their monster disguises, have begun to arrive even more consistently. The old man has his bucket of treats (which he has done a good job of keeping out of my sneaky reach) and offers them each a handful. Guess he’s just that nice of a guy. I would have kept the treats to myself, especially after those rascals scared me earlier.

After a while, the old man decides to spice things up for us. He dresses up in an old lab coat, pulls on some of his rubber cleaning gloves, and finds some wild goggles and adds them to his persona. He looks in the mirror for a moment before ruffling his hair into a tangle. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he looked quite mad. Then it’s my turn. I don’t like getting too dressed up, but the antennae with the little bobbly eyes doesn’t bother me much. A cape made from an old t-shirt adds to my charisma and I become…Super Alien Rocky.

I race around wildly, chasing the bobbly eyes on my head and enjoying the fluttering of my cape. No matter how fast I go, those bobbly eyes still evade my grasp, bouncing around and taunting me. It’s fun though, and I bark an approval to the old man, who also seems to like my costume.

We take a seat at the piano, and the old man begins to play a creepy tune. It starts with some deep, rumbling notes, offset by the occasional high pitched ones. After a few chords, I find myself howling to accompany the eerie music and tapping my paw upon a few of the keys to add some melody. Though this would often disturb the old man, he too joins in and howls into the night.

The doorbell rings again, so we pause for the moment and I rush to the door. I beat the old man there, eager to say hello to the disguised youngsters. When I look back, I notice the old man is coming, but only on two legs. In all the excitement he must’ve forgotten about his extra one. I run back to the piano and fetch it for him. The wood is heavy in my grasp, but I manage to handle it.

By the time I get back, he’s already handed out the goodies and closed the door. He looks at me, and I look at him, and he tells me what a super dog I am. I know this, but it’s always good to hear it once in a while. I tell him the same, and his eyes confirm that he understood.

We continue to greet the oncoming swarm of youngsters, and when they see us, they are quite frightened themselves. I guess that’s what makes this day so fun though. I realize that it isn’t about being frightened or even scaring each other- it’s about everyone- pups included- having a good time.

Author:

Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own Rocky Adventures.

The street has been full of activity today. Creatures wandering around out there have been moving from house to house. People seem frightened as they answer the door, but give treats to the monsters anyway. When they’ve come to our door, I bark to warn them that this is my house, but the old man answers the door anyway. He acts scared, but it seems more playful than true fear. He gives them some treats from a bucket (I’m sure I’ll help myself to those when the moment seems right) and the creatures leave as quickly as they came.

I’ve been watching all the action from the front window. I sit on the piano, my favorite perch, and watch everything to make sure my home is safe. The old man emerges from his room, his own business done as I can hear the sound of water running. In his hand is my leash, and I know what that means. It’s time for walkies. I hop down wag my tail to show appreciation. He beckons me and puts my leash on. Then it’s out the door and into the realm of these monsters.

Though I’ve been a little frightened of them, I’m still curious. I want to get a closer look at them on their own turf, and perhaps even snag some of those treats they’ve been getting. We head down the road, making our way towards Izzy’s house. The old man likes the lady that lives there. She usually gives him a pie or two for us to share. That means I like her, too. Hopefully she has something for us today.

Unfortunately, when we pass by, no one comes to greet us. Even Izzy isn’t out in the yard today, which surprises me. I sniff around the fence line and leave a message for him. Then we’re on our way again.

We continue to walk, and I enjoy the fall air and the sweet smell of the crunchy leaves. That’s when someone grabs my tail. I yelp and turn to defend myself. One of the monsters has me! I retreat quickly, unsure of what these things are.

Then the mystery is revealed. A mama snatches the monster up and reveals the secret. It’s nothing more than her own youngster, out looking for some mischief of its own. She talks to the old man, telling him that she’s sorry about how her youngster acted. Then she tells me how cute I am and tries to pet me, but I don’t want her to. So I growl a little. Though the mystery is solved, I’m still a little uncomfortable with the situation.
She retreats as well. I’m not usually like that, but that really scared me. If they had a tail, I’m sure they wouldn’t like it if someone grabbed it while they were minding their own business. I snort and tell the old man we should get back home. I don’t really want to walk around anymore.
When we pass by Izzy’s house, his lady comes out to say hello to the old man, and indeed she has a treat for us.

“Yes!” I yelp excitedly. “An apple pie, my very favorite.”

I can feel myself begin to drool already. The old man asks her where Izzy is. She tells him that he didn’t like the ghouls and goblins and was inside watching the Discovery Channel. I laughed. He always acts so tough, but a kitten would spook that guy.

The old man thanks the lady, and I bark a “thanks” as well. Then we head back to our home, where we can hopefully enjoy our treat without any more tricks.

Author:

Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own Rocky Adventures.

It’s bedtime. The old man snores a bit, though it is not as bad tonight. Usually, his sleep keeps me from my own. The day was exciting, and I’m sure we’re both a little tuckered out. We went for a walk, saying hello to some of the dogs and neighbors. The old man seemed really happy today, especially after chatting with a lady down the road. She gave him a pie she had made just for him (although he allowed me to have a piece, and I love apple pie). I can’t help but notice the difference I’ve made in his life, and he’s changed mine as well.

I think back to the time before I was brought to my home. I spent a long time in the cages, and before that is just a distant memory that has faded with my newfound happiness. The cages, though, were not so wonderful. There were lots of dogs, but few of them were my friends. Most were busy chasing their tails out of boredom, and the rest just sat around- waiting for someone to take them home.

The cage I was in held three other pups and me. They played together a lot, mostly wrestling and chatting with one another. They constantly talked about their days of freedom and cat chasing, the bigger pup often teasing the basset hound about his short legs. We played around when the days seemed to long, but most times, they were a little too rough for me (I’ve got a big heart, but my body isn’t exactly dog-tastic).

On that special day, two strangers arrived at the door, looking and examining each of us. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, since every dog in the kennel was barking wildly. I just sat and stared at them. I’ve always been able to hold my composure, not letting anything get me wound up or out of control.

They looked and pointed at the others in my cage, all three of whom were going wild with excitement. I put my paw on the cage door and gave them my best “Pick me!” look.

Well, it worked.

On the way home, I was super excited, but remained outwardly calm. I nudged my new owners with my nose, enjoying their scent and affection. The woman held me tightly, telling me how cute I was. My tail wagged to agree.

We stopped at my new home. A nice place, not huge, but big enough for a pup my size. The door opened up, and I sprang out and began sniffing my new surroundings. I marked a few spots and then proceeded to smell the fresh air. There was a garden near. I detected fresh fruit and some flowers, probably roses. Then my new family called to me, so I followed them into the house.

The inside didn’t smell as lively. There was something…sad about it. I looked around, spotting a piano and a comfy looking couch. My family walked through the home, calling out for “Daddy,” but I didn’t follow them. They walked down the hall and went up the stairs. I followed my nose instead. The back door was ajar, so I nudged it open and looked out. A man was sitting on the porch. He seemed lonely, I could feel it. I walked up next to him and sat down, too. He was staring at his garden, the plants beginning to wilt. I nudged him with my nose, and let out a small grunt. It surprised him, but his expression quickly turned to relief. He stared down at me, his eyes brightening up.

“Hey there, buddy,” the old man said. “Where’d you come from?”

I told him that the others were looking for him, but he didn’t seem that concerned about it. Instead, he scooped me up and put me in his lap. Then he began to pet me as he examined my expression. My tail wagged, and the sadness faded from his eyes, just a little at first. But as time went on, he learned to be happy again. I guess he needs me just as much as I need him.

Author:

Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own Rocky Adventures.

The day has been fairly uninteresting. This morning, the old man slept in longer, which he seldom does, until I nudged him with my wet nose to tell him it was time to eat. He did smile at me when he awoke though, informing me that my job was well done. Sometimes, I think that if I weren’t here, he might not want to get up and share the day with the world.

Such it has been for a while though, often reminding me of the old days when we could go for our daily walks and play around in the park. Before he got his third leg, he seemed to be a little faster. Since then, he’s slowed down, having trouble getting down the steps in the back yard, so that he can play in his garden. The front door isn’t as bad, though. Only one step drops off into the grassy yard, and is easily manageable.

Now, I’m sitting here, a little bored, waiting for the old man to wake up from his nap. After the time seems to slip away, I get a little anxious, and a mischievous thought enters my mind. I hop down from my spot on the couch and go to check on the old man. He sleeps still, not quite soundly though. His snoring is loud enough I can hear it in my own dreams. I won’t bother him right now, in fact, it’s better if he’s asleep while I slip out for a walk of my own.

I’m careful not to let the doggy door squeak as I slip through, and now free, I rush out into the yard and take care of some quick business. Then my journey begins. I won’t wander far, I promise myself. So I start by sniffing around the fence. A couple of messages are left for me, and a strange one that I am unfamiliar with. I write them back.

Further down the street, I run into Izzy. He’s a lot bigger than me. What’s always made me laugh is that just because he’s an Australian Sheppard, he thinks he has to talk like that guy on the Discovery channel. Though he is sometimes full of himself, he’s really a great dog. He tells me about his new toys and how his lady lets him do whatever he wants because he’s the boss. (That’s by far a lie – he does whatever she wants him to. He talks big, but loves her more than anything else in the world.) We chat for a bit until his lady calls him inside. He obediently responds, proving my point. I laugh and continue on my way.

I continue to trot along, sniffing here and there. Then a new scent catches my nose, so I follow. It’s very strange. I think it’s another animal, maybe a cat! A “meow” solidifies my thoughts. The rascal is hiding in a bush, and the chase is on. He dodges left, I follow. A sharp right, but I stay on its tail, barking my war cry and challenging the cat to go faster. Then up a tree and onto a high branch, the cat escapes me. I continue to bark for a few moments more, before realizing that I’m quite lost.

I look around, but everything is unfamiliar. I run back to the sidewalk and try to retrace my steps. I walk up and down the walkway for a bit before catching my own scent. I mark it, just in case, and rush back towards home. I get lost once more, but spot Izzy’s house across the street. I know where I am again, and make a mad dash back for home.

I rush through the doggy door, spotting my old friend at his piano bench. He’s just now finishing one of his favorite classics. I hop up on the bench just in time. The old man moves his hand to the far side of the keyboard, but scratches behind my ear instead of finishing his song. I raise a paw and hit the last note in timely fashion.

Author:

Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own Rocky Adventures.

The book Going Home: Finding Peace When Pets Die is a helpful book for those that want to learn more about the relationship between humans and their beloved pets that have comforted them for large portions of a lifetime. The author, Jon Katz, has written several books, both fiction and non-fiction, that surround the nature of pets, honoring the companionship of our four-legged friends. This particular book is a guide for those who wish to understand a little more about the departing stage of a pet’s life, and the best ways that they can cope with the loss.

Preparing for departure

The book goes into detail explaining the various relationships between people and their pets. Some people experience a very special bond with their pets, while some may feel the loss in a different way, often hiding their emotions from sight. As far as owners are concerned, each person deals with the loss differently, but preparing for and understanding that your pet won’t be with you until the end of time is very important. He writes that it is also important to understand that pets do not share our human characteristic that fears death. Dogs will know it is time to go and accept the fact as a law of nature, rather than struggle against it. Perhaps it is even the very thing that allows them to live life so freely. These understandings are going to be some of the largest steps in dealing with the death of a pet.

Dealing with the loss

Most people will deal differently with the loss of a dear friend. A very big part of their life is now gone, leaving only memories. The book goes into great detail covering the various ways that people deal with the loss, including: memorial services, remembrances (such as Facebook pages), and pictures which all solidify the memory of their four-legged friends. Mr. Katz discusses the facts of society and the pressure to often hide emotions from the public eye.

He also discusses the importance of acknowledging the good life, and remembering the happy experiences you’ve shared with your pet. It is important to understand that you have given your companion a good and quality life full of love, rather than dwelling on the moment of death. This helps the heart deal with the loss in a positive light.

Another point made covers the importance for any animal lover to add another companion to their life when the time is right. He states that there is no set timing for such an addition; it is something that a person feels inside. It is, in fact, important to have a grieving period, especially for children, as it teaches them loss and prevents them from becoming numb to the facts of life. But, it is important to continue your life and stay involved in the pet loving community. The companionship is a good and healthy part of the healing process, and it is good for other animals out there that need a good home where they can share their love with you. He covers the point that some people may feel as though they are betraying their lost pet, but acknowledges the fact that another pet will help a person deal with the loss in a much better way.

Overall, the book is a great addition to any pet library, helping people understand that it is okay to let their feelings show, especially when they’ve lost such a large part of their life, and that it is okay for them to move on and find love again.

This afternoon has indeed been very interesting. There’s water outside, fallen from the sky, and it makes everything wet. Normally it might be fun to play in, but the sky flashes and the sound of something terrible fills the air.

Everything is okay though, as my buddy is here to keep me safe. He sits on his bench, playing the old piano. On occasion, I too find myself hitting the keys with my paws in an attempt to mimic my old friend, but it never comes out quite right. Today, I do not join him on the bench though, as I’ve found a nice spot below his feet so that I can hear his breathing and familiar heartbeat, assuring me that he is close.

In his years, my old friend has seemingly lost a bit of touch with his own paws, their agility seemingly becoming less steady, just like his heart. But he continues on, like nothing else bothers him. He’s a tough guy, still thinks he can do everything on his own, but I can tell he’s having trouble. This comes especially to mind when I think about my own daily needs. He can’t exactly run like I can, and even though he picks up a third leg to help him, he still has trouble keeping up with my four.

Aside from getting into mischief, I am really a good pup. Like earlier today, even though it was raining, I slipped outside and grabbed the bag that my buddy keeps his newspaper in. I didn’t want him walking outside in the rain. Last time, he slipped down the sidewalk and fell in the grass. He seemed more angry than hurt though, but that’s probably for the better.

Suddenly my friend looks at me and starts making his funny sounds again. I never did figure out why they do that, but it always makes me laugh.

“What?” I asked to tease him.

Then he finally uses a word familiar to me. “Shoes,” he says. I know what those are and when he says that, it usually means he wants me to go get them, so I do. I scamper down the hallway, to the closet. He keeps three pairs of shoes here, one for the garden, one for walking outside, and one for walking inside. I pick the inside pair, since it’s too wet for us to go walking. But when I bring them to him, he shakes his head.

“No, outside shoes,” he says to me this time. I know better, as it is far too wet and dangerous for him to be walking around outside on the slippery grass. I tell him “no” a few times, but he insists, so being the good pup that I am, I get them for him.

After he struggles with them for a moment, he manages to get the shoes on his paws and slowly stands up.

“Rocky, outside,” he says again. I guess he wants me to do my business now. I run to the back door because the patio deck is covered, and my old friend can stay dry. It’s a little further than the front door, and he knows this. He glances at that one, then back to me. I call him to me a few times before the old chap makes a decision. He makes his way to the door, and pushes down on the handle. I can do it too, but my little legs are too short, but perhaps I’ll soon find something to give me a boost.

The door opens up and I spring out into the back yard.

It doesn’t take me long to do my business, and I’m ready to get out of the wet. But, my old friend seems to have trouble of his own. That lever thing sits in his hand now, and the door is still closed. He looks at me and makes some funny sounds. I know exactly what to do.

Around the house, and through the doggy door, I find my way back inside. The lever on the other side is still on. I know what to do. I jump. Once, twice, and on the fourth try, I clamp my teeth around it and the door opens.

My friend looks at me in wonder and tells me what a great friend I am. Then he scratches behind my left ear, my very favorite spot, as my leg moves to agree.

Author:

Jason Duron is a short story writer and author of several fiction stories.  Curious and lovable as dogs can be, the Adventures of Rocky give you a chance to see daily life from a “dog’s eye view” and share in their thoughts.  Please enjoy, and we hope that you’ll feel free to comment and give us insight into your dog’s very own Rocky Adventures.

We all remember the attacks of September 11th that took place a decade ago, and we will never forget the efforts of those that helped our country in its darkest hours. The firemen, the police, and the rescue teams that scoured the rubble in search of survivors are forever in our hearts and memory. Along-side these rescue teams, over one hundred dogs and their handlers traversed the remains of the World Trade Center, using their skills to aid in their rescue efforts.

Dogs search for survivors

Kiaser, a German Sheppard, arrived at the aftermath to aid in the search for survivors. Assigned to a twelve hour nightshift, the “live” search dog and handler traversed the rubble in search of any living souls. Though he never alerted to finding a survivor, he was trained well enough to hint that there was someone there, assisting the other crews retrieving victim’s bodies so that they could be properly buried. Kiaser spent ten days sifting through the remains of the twin towers, but was unable to find any survivors. He did bring something special to the rescue team; not only were his efforts welcomed, but his comfort was needed as well.

Bretagne, a young golden retriever, was introduced to Ground Zero for her first rescue mission. Though fresh to the scene, she was full of energy and did not tire in her efforts. Alongside her handler, Bretagne searched the rubble for ten days, offering hope to the fellow firefighters whom would stop on occasion to recharge themselves with the retriever’s comforts.

Just doing my job

Charlie wasn’t alone during his own searches. Searching beside and even long after the “live” search dogs, the NYPD K9 department deployed their own efforts to help recover the remains of the victims of such treacherous attacks. These teams scoured the rubble for the eight months following the attacks of 9/11, searching for fallen comrades and comforting the rescue teams.

Offering a special kind of relief

Nickie the Golden Retriever and his handler volunteered their assistance to Ground Zero, where they would spend eight months helping the people, in a slightly different way. Nickie, trained as a trauma patient dog, brought spirit to the turmoil, offering comfort to those who would endure such harsh experiences. It is sometimes amazing how special it actually is to merely pet a dog. The comfort and familiarity of a dog can bring a smile back with the wag of a tail. Nickie’s efforts were not sifting through the aftermath, but instead, sifting through the rubble of broken hearts.

More than just a friend

These dogs are just a few names amongst the vast number of dog and man teams that put their efforts to help our country in its time of need. They went in full force, never questioning their job. Boots to protect their paws couldn’t be used so that their nails and paws could gain traction on the slippery rubble which often shifted further, presenting dangerous situations for everyone. Now in their older years, most of the pups have passed on, leaving only fourteen, all of which have retired and are enjoying the company of their handlers. These dogs of 9/11 are indeed appreciated for their heroic efforts- helping the teams cope with the traumatic events, and staying by our side when we needed them most, proving that you don’t have to be human to be a hero.

Dogs are quite possibly the most incredible creatures in the world. They possess the ability to bond with and assist us humans with everything in life from companionship to far more vital roles as medical assistants. Dogs help the blind, as well as those with other medical problems. Cardiac Alert Dogs are becoming more popular throughout the medical field, helping those with heart problems attain a sense of security knowing their pup is there to save the day.

What does a cardiac alert dog do?

Cardiac alert dogs are specifically trained to detect differences in heart rhythms and inform their owner that something may be wrong. Drops and rises in blood pressure will affect a person’s heartbeat causing palpitations or fainting if something isn’t done quickly. These problems can often be resolved or subsided by leveling the body such as laying down flat. The heart can regain control and regulate the blood flow again. This is where the faithful companion comes into play to save the day. Cardiac alert dogs are trained specifically to detect the change in blood flow and heart rhythm and will tell the patient that they need to lay down until medical help can be attained if needed.

Training

These dogs have a vital job to do and training starts when they are a pup. They are sent to live with a foster family to teach them to be a pup with love and affection, potty training, and obedience as well. After their first year they are sent to a professional trainer who teaches the pup what they will need to do to protect their future owner. They will be taught how to detect heart anomalies and how they will need to alert their owner, including suppressing them until the problem resolves. Pup’s will lay their head and paws on their owner to prevent them from getting up.

The training is learned through “treating”  primarily, and owners must continue the process after their pup joins their life. Both the pup and the patient are unique to one another, often times the pup deciding the owner rather than the other way around.

After the pup joins the life of their owner, they are trained to be obedient to them alone, others are commonly not permitted to interact or touch the pup as it could disrupt their work. Everywhere the owner goes, the pup goes, as their work is never done.

Can you train a pup to do so?

For some dogs, detecting problems seems to be inherent. Some people have reported dogs detecting cancer, strokes, and even predicting heart attacks without training. Unfortunately, the rigorous training process begins at birth, and is quite meticulous. If you wanted to train your pup to detect heart anomalies, you would have to know exactly what to look for and be able to simulate or predict them yourselves to effectively train another pup.

These medical dogs are an amazing addition to the lives of so many. They help with not only cardiac care, but also psychiatric, diabetic, and even seizure patients. Dogs are considered the ultimate companion, and have indeed proven themselves to be such.