Mystyroch Kennel

SERVICE BOUVS Rita and Kahn
Freedom on Four Paws
by Rita Lillico

Khan is my seventh Bouvier des Flandres to walk at my side as
my service dog. Seizure Alert and Mobility Assist. He walks
at my side for medical reasons. He is my continuing doorway to independence and
a fairly normal life for me with no seizures.  Kazam was the first and we learned by hit and miss – training and re-training until we got things right to help me the way I needed. A voyage over the years of constant
discovery. At that time he sort of wore the title of
mobility assist dog, as “seizure alert” was not in the
service dog vocabulary. Seeing Eye most definitely,
Hearing Ear was gaining acceptance rapidly. As time
passed and with each new service dog, knowledge in the
world grew and the term Seizure Alert finally came into
being. What I had been doing for years with my Bouviers
at my side was finally gaining acceptance, although the
battle is still there for all service dogs, as not all people
accept them. So my love affair for these dogs was well
established and continues to this day.

How I chose my dog to walk at my side is not hard. As I
know myself, and for a dog to alert and help me, he needs
to be large as I am around the six-foot mark. The
dominance and the alpha in them for me is a must. They
have to be physically and mentally strong enough to
counter me when the medical need is there, so that my
commands do not turn them into wimps, as I tend to be
strong-minded. This is because I learned, before I had
service dogs to help me, that in order to survive in this
world I had to appear normal. Although nothing in my
life is normal. I tend to push myself until I collapse. Now
with these dogs it does not happen as often, and the side
effects are less severe. They will stop me, forcing me to
rest and watch over me until my system stabilizes when I
have rested enough.

They do the same for my seizures; they know a half-hour
to an hour ahead and warn me so I can take the proper
meds. They will not let me cheat on taking my meds; how
they know I have no idea just that they do. They sit and
watch over me and when they finally relax at my feet, I
know that all is well and this medical emergency has
passed.

The training that goes into my dogs would cover several
articles. But first and foremost they are trained to be with
me, move with me. Always alert to the tiniest change in
the way my body functions. They learn from training with
me and by being with my service dog that is due to retire.
By constantly being with me they absorb the knowledge
of the changes that occur in my body. Am I repeating
this? Certainly, for this is the cornerstone of the
partnership between us. The ability to know what changes
are good and they can relax. To know what changes are
bad and something has to be done about it. In the good,
my commands are adhered to, when the bad happens,
their job is to warn me and make sure I listen.

They learn to help balance me, pull me up stairs. Dozens
of things that if on my own all the time would leave me
flat on my face and likely injured. Can I move on my
own? Oh yes. But every time I do this I pay big time, in
days and often weeks of recovery. Exhaustion is a
constant enemy, for if I had listen to medical opinion
years ago, I would have been in a wheelchair for life. But
it is “been there, done that”; and as long as my body will
cooperate with me even to the smallest degree, I will walk
with the aid of my marvelous friends, proudly upright. So
with their help I am able, for short periods
and sometimes longer, to pretend all is right in my world
and as long as no one looks closely I can appear normal.

Cross-training is a must in my world for me to live my
lifestyle. Herding, carting, tracking. I live in the country
and there are no neighbors close. The property I call
home is home also to five-plus dogs, five cats and four
horses. The horses have eight-plus acres to roam on; so
they were trained to accept Khan, then Mystaya and now
Cahira; for they are trained to get the horses when I call
them and they do not come. The appearance in their
pasture of two large and one small Bouvier means they
have to come in; be it for oats, to get their hooves
trimmed, for training etc. They have learned to live
together and my dogs have learned the dangers of herding
horses and how to avoid the danger of being kicked.

Carting is another must in our lives, as is backpacking, as
I cannot carry things any great distance, or lift any amount
of weight. How we do it evolves year-by-year; sometimes
even from one day to the next. End result – as long as I
work slowly and my dogs work at my side, I can garden,
as they carry or pull thing to or for the garden for me. I
can clear land as they do the heavy work; and the list goes
on. Yes, I still have to have people do some things; but
neighbors are constantly surprised at what my dogs and I do.
They all learn tracking: first and foremost to find me if
the need is there. I refuse to be confined to the house;
and it is not unusual for me to go down and need help. So
if I don’t show up at home, any one of my Bouviers can
track and find me. We do not train for search and rescue
for others anymore. Yet Khan has proven his ability to
track, in finding two children lost in one of our vicious
winter storms.

Are they working dogs? Yes; most of my dogs have
herded cattle and my current ones are no exceptions. All
three are well adapted in getting cattle out of the bush or
gathering them when the herd scatters over several
quarter sections when they are being moved between
pastures. All three have helped bring large herds of
several hundred head under control. Do they have all the
herding commands, no. Yet if cattle are out, my dogs are
called upon to help the smaller well-trained cattle dogs.
So year-by-year their knowledge grows and their ability
more polished.

When asked why this breed and how. Kazam came into
my life as a rescue. What happened in those first years
picked my breed. It started between us in the house and
spread to helping care for my children. This grew to going
back to trying, with these dogs at my side, the many
things I had to give up. A life I thought I would never see
again or have a chance to do; a life I thought I would view
only from the sidelines. The why is contained in a million
memories and so with this the memories flow and they
are not in order. I remember getting out in the yard and
actually doing things for the first time in years. Driving
without fear of a seizure killing me or someone else. . . I
remember swimming again for the first time, with a large
shaggy beast on each side. . . Bringing in vegetables from
our garden with only my Bouviers to help, each with
backpacks transporting them back to the house. . .
Looking after my flower beds, again they helped, carrying
bulbs and plants to the garden. . . Then the weeds to the
compost heap. . . Saving my life when I collapsed outside
and Khan, Mystaya and Cahira pulled me to the kennel,
opened the door and pulled me inside. Then they settled
their bodies around me, as I recovered in front of the fire.
That night was -27 C with high winds. I would have died
in a few short hours. . . Kazam saving Misty who had
gone swimming and got tangled in barbed wire someone
had thrown in the pond. He held her up while I
untangled her. Taking her to shore, then returning for me
as my strength was fading fast. . . Kazam, Tig-ger, Nigella,
Toklat finding two hyperactive children who had no off
button (the boys loved to hide from me in the several
hundred acres of bush behind our house, when my
system was down). So these great dogs made a mother’s
life easy.

With the start of each new dog’s service in my life, it is
quite often rough. The teaching is constant and
sometimes frustrating when you are used to the retiring
dog that seemed to know what you where thinking or
what you needed before you did. The young dog,
although well trained, seems to be a bumbling, clumsy
fool. Then time passes and instead of having to call, your
hand falls on a huge shaggy head, calmly walking at your
side. Gradually they have sensed the change in your body
and arrive at your side before you knew that you needed
help. So you realize that you are doing all right when they
dash, play and leap into the air, and your laughter joins
their joy in the sheer joy of living. And the new becomes
the old-timer.

So it is easy to wake each morning and look down at
Khan sleeping at my side. I realize another night has
passed and all is safe as he awakes and regards me
intently, head bowed as if praying, before he settles again
at my side. So before I get up to start my day, I give
thanks for this working dog that never asks for a holiday.
Who in his mind should never be far from me. Are they a
working dog? You better believe it. A person would
refuse to do many of the tasks that these dogs do as it is
too hard work. So the work of one dog would have to be
divided between several people and some jobs would still
have no one that wished to do them.

As I watch my shaggy guardians, being shag
rugs on my floor, my heart swells for they are love giving
love; care giving care; a constant never-ending circle of
freedom and love. A wonderful reason in my mind to get
up each morning and cope with the hardship that fills
each day.