When I was a little girl, I loved Breyer Horses. I would give each of my horses names, make up stories about them, and strategically place them high up on shelves around my room to mimic wild horses on mountain ranges. Every so often, I'd take each one down very carefully and wipe away the dust, whispering kind words as if it were real, and dreaming of one day when I would have my own horses to name, groom, train, ride, and love. As my love for animals expanded beyond horses, this collection grew to include the Stablemate Breyer horses, plastic Breyer dogs, and ceramic dogs. Each got a name, a backstory, gently played with from time to time, occasionally had the dust wiped away, and held a treasured spot in my heart. As an adult, I no longer play with my Breyer horses or ceramic dogs, but I still cherish them. It's a remembrance to the past. They all have names, are placed with great care, and are kept clean, mostly. They are a piece of my story, who I am, and what I love. They can live on a shelf, though, because despite having names and holding a realistic place in the vivid imagination of a child at one time, they are not actually living, breathing animals with souls, feelings, depth, character, and needs. Retired working dogs are. In Terminology OnlyEarly into looking for my first service dog, I honestly didn't do a ton of research on dog psychology, how to train a dog specifically, or much into service dog life. I asked a few questions in service dog groups on Facebook, but was quickly turned off by how many closed-minded and highly opinionated people festered in them. I found one handler to be my mentor, and she was awesome! We talked about finding a dog, training a dog, and working with a dog. I bought a few books off Amazon to read, including Teamwork 1 & 2 (I highly recommend those), and other various books that went into how service dogs learn over 30 commands, have to be held to really high behavior standards, how owner-trainers usually fail (not great motivation), and a general consensus from many authors that there was only 1 right way to obtain a service dog (at least, from the authors bumped up in Amazon's search results).
"Washed" and "wash out" refer to a dog who maybe wasn't actually suited to being a service dog, developed behavioral issues, or suffered a trauma that interfered with their ability or drive to work. "Retired early" denotes a dog who was active duty but for whatever reason, didn't reach their expected full-term for a career. This is Robbie, due to his shoulders giving out. "Retired" happens to all working dogs, usually due to age and/or arthritis, and closer to being 9 or 10 years old. Conclusively, washout, washed, retired early, and retired mean your dog isn't a working dog anymore. The questions becomes, what are they? From Revered to Ghost StatusThe prospect of obtaining or searching for a service dog to train are decisions that are celebrated. Complete strangers are excited for you, for the dog being gifted the ability to change someone's life, or both. The understanding that service dogs change lives for the better, possess incredible abilities, fill gaps left by modern medicine, and are seen as heroes is a sentiment that has withstood generations leading back to the World Wars. Partnering with a service dog returns a sense of self that a disabled individual may have thought they'd never feel again. Some individuals, like myself, achieve a higher level of functionality from a dog's assistance than what a human assistant could ever fulfill. Without my service dog's assistance, I am not whole, and no one, not my husband, not best friend, not my doctor, not even medication can live up to role Robbie filled or do it half as well. Service dog teams in the U.S. are backed by federal and state laws, doing what they can to make society more accessible with a service dog by your side. Various states have criminal charges for anyone interfering or causing harm to a service dog team. Recently, some have enacted laws for persecuting fake teams. Other countries offer similar support for service dog teams. Service dog teams are handled differently in the eyes of the law than other working dog teams, including police K9s, Military Working Dogs, Search and Rescue Dogs, Personal Protection dogs, and more. We stand apart in the law. What we all seem to share, however, is that our working dogs go from being revered, celebrated, and held on a pedestal of impeccable behavior or outstanding achievements, to becoming ghosts in the world they once proudly served as soon as their file is stamped, "RETIRED." I have searched for articles about helping a working dog transition to retired life. Most of what comes up is either how to know when your service dog needs to be retired, or heartfelt pieces about how your dog did amazing things for their entire life and now should get to chill out with yummy treats, relax on the couch, play and run, and enjoy their time off. Other articles don't mention service dogs at all, but focus on returning MWDs to their military handlers to live out their days as pets surrounded by familiar faces. A few articles suggested the kinder approach was to simply rehome the working dog to a good home to allow it to accept the change without constantly seeing their beloved partner leaving without them every day. They Want to Work & We Take It Away The sentiment behind letting a working dog live out the rest of their days as a spoiled pet feels less like advice written by an experienced K9 handler, and more like an outside observer applying anthropomorphic attitudes to the working dog, by attempting to draw allusions between a human who worked for 60 years and is ready for a chance to smell the flowers and a working dog who diligently served for most of their adult life. The key element in a dog whose been selected for a working dog career is the drive to work. Unlike a person, they're not doing it to get paid, or to save up for retirement. They're doing it because their minds want to problem solve, they want to be with their person, they want the reward of doing the thing, they have tons of energy and need to put it somewhere, and oh, yeah, because their person asked them to. Working dogs are devoted to their handler, and will do anything for them. Countless accounts of MWDs on duty include stories of dogs who got shot on the job but wouldn't let go of their quarry, or kept searching for explosives or drugs until their handler had to make them stop. My own service dog kept working through a shoulder injury without displaying any pain or weakness because of his devotion to the job. What exactly in that aspect of a working dog's mentality makes anyone think that upon being offered retirement, the dog is gonna think, "Finally! I get to do nothing now, this rocks!" No. Just no. Despite the understanding that working dogs are tireless and loyal to the job, finding suggestions on how to help them transition or alternative ways to fulfill that working drive without causing further damage to them if they are injured or arthritic is practically nonexistent. Their needs as a retired dog aren't laid out for handlers. We're cast into the darkness with our dogs, left to bumble about and do our best as we watch our dogs hearts break into pieces and their personalities fade away as they realize the activity they loved most is suddenly gone. Unthought Of Laws disappear too. My service dog was trained rigorously for years to be invisible and well behaved in public places. Active duty, allowed where I went. Retired? Pet, I guess, but not a pet. The job stood him apart from a pet, but what also stood him apart was the training that permitted him to be accepted into non-pet friendly spaces. That training and skill set is still very much there. None of the laws specify if retired service dogs can be in public spaces. Obviously, they aren't working, but they also wouldn't be a nuisance or disturbance. Service dogs that wash out, I understand. They showed that they couldn't be a service dog for one reason or another. Retired service dogs are a different story though. Some of them never deviate from their training or the rigorous standards for behavior even once technically retired. Leaving a retired service dog at home suddenly is very much a problem, though. Their entire life we teach them to be attached to their handler like glue, to always be ready to help, and now, we've left them at home. They can get destructive, develop separation or crate anxiety despite formerly never having those issues, they might spend their time looking for us or trying to problem solve their way to get to us. It's B.S., honestly. It's unfair that as soon as they retire, they don't maintain the status of being impeccably trained animals that can be trusted to be with their handler, wherever their handler goes. Retired service dogs deserve to be included and thought of, somewhere. Somehow. We ask the extraordinary of them. We include them in our country's laws. As soon as they retire, though, it's like they become ghosts with no value in the public eye or consideration. Yes, some retired dogs are mentally broken, may be incontinent, or may not have the stamina or desire to go places. My questions is, why are trainers or programs or other organizations not trying to help teams? Why aren't there retired working dog specific daycares, suggestions for keeping them stimulated without overloading them, or even basic information up front about how to set up your home life to help a retired dog adjust to the new normal? Perhaps there is too much variability in why a dog was retired or what their temperament may be at the end to devise a good strategy to help everyone, but I have to say, it feels incredibly quiet to go from a bustling service dog community brimming with information to silence. My retired service dog is not a model horse prepared to sit on a shelf, but that would seem to be exactly what society expects him to do. Handler GuiltMy research seems to indicate that rehoming your working dog is the best for everyone. I can see why it is kind. The dog gets a new environment to adapt to, which was part of their training anyway, and develops a new routine with people who don't need them to work, which they understand, and accept with time. The handler can move on to the next dog without worries of jealousy or inner-dog bickering, or the responsibility of caring for not one, but two high maintenance dogs. I can see why it is kind. That choice would destroy me, though. I can't do it. Robbie literally devoted his life to me. He kept me safe from the full wrath of life with CRPS, and did it every day to the best of his abilities. To rehome him would feel to me, personally, like I was being ungrateful to him. Like, "thanks, okay now, bye!" I can't do it. Also, knowing him the way I do, as his owner, handler, and trainer, I don't think he would adapt to a new environment. He was returned to the shelter twice for being destructive and too stubborn to handle. I rose to his challenge, but he does continue to challenge me and anyone else who tries to handle him. I would worry that anyone else might resort to what I believe to be the wrong methods for controlling him. I can communicate with him, I can listen to him, and hear him. He served me, now it is my turn to serve him. My handler guilt is still here though. I am not rehoming him, but I've got other guilt. His job is part of why his shoulders gave out. I used him up. He was willing to give that to me, but I don't know how I can ever be grateful enough. There's guilt over not seeing it sooner, maybe we could have helped him faster. Guilt over demanding so much from him. It's the nature of the job, no way around it, but that doesn't mean the guilt doesn't nibble at the edges of my mind. Guilt over not being able to retire him slowly, leaving him at home without warning, over taking away the activities he loved so much without being able to explain any of it to him. Tips for Other TeamsI have come to the realization that part of this relationship, part of this partnership for every team out there will be the inevitable point when our needs for their bodies to be an extension of our own drains them of their strength, potentially leaving them as in need of constant care and assistance as we need for ourselves. No one talks about that. Is it a reason to not use service dogs? No. In my opinion, if they want to work, we should continue to ask and let them. I truly believe there are select animals put here to work. You can see it in their eyes, there's a spark. They want to work, they want to have a purpose, and we should absolutely let them. It is our job, though, to give them the tools they need to do it well. Evaluating for good bone structure and temperament, proper training, proper nutrition, and adequate and varied exercise. I have seen too many overweight service dogs. Not okay. We owe it to them to find a way to give them what they need. Robbie retired early. There's guilt there, but there's also solace in knowing that I did everything I could to keep him in optimal performance condition along the way and that contributed to him being able to be strong for longer than if I had not done any of it. If he had gone to a home that did not give him purpose, his shoulders might have lasted longer, but he might have had a worse life. He might have died in a shelter. He might have been adopted by people who never found a way to understand him or his needs. My advice to other teams is that you be aware of retirement now. Right now. Make a plan now for keeping your dog in peak condition. Make a plan now for how you might handle a senior version of your dog. Behavior issues you conquered as a puppy might resurface. How might you gradually decrease their work load? How might you handle them learning to be apart from you? Save money in a retirement fund for your working dog to be able to afford medication they might need, orthopedic beds, or start thinking the back of your mind who you know personally who might want a retired working dog if you don't think you'll be able to afford their care. Even if your plan goes awry, at least you will have begun to think of something before it arrives. Your working dog doesn't disappear, they won't become ghosts, and they sure as hell are not gonna like being put on a shelf. I only saw the moment and the future of him helping me. I did not envision retirement. In a little happy corner of our minds, we thought maybe Robbie could be my husband's dog, to be a farm dog who went to work with him, and that may have worked if my husband's job hadn't evolved over the years from farm grunt to foreman running machinery and running all over a vast area of farmland. I'm living the reality of Robbie's retirement now, and it's a field of emotional and financial landmines that no one prepared me for. Thank you for reading Part 3 of my "The Next Chapter" series!
Stay tuned for Part 4, where I'll write about how retirement is affecting Robbie, specifically. If you've retired a working dog, and have advice for other teams, please share in the comments :)
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My Name is Sally...I have a condition called Complex Regional Pain Syndrome. This blog is about my journey training Robbie, a dog who helped me regain independence, confidence, and achieve the impossible in the face of my disability. It continues on with the training of Austin, Robbie's successor. Check Out... - "More than a Dog" was published on a site called The Mighty Categories
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