At -10 Degrees F Thursday morning he was ready to come in and warm his feet. 
   But today was better - above 40 degrees F and wet, he was in his element. 
   Today he is six months old and 62 pounds, empty morning working weight. We're enjoying his first Christmas tree in our Boat Shop together,

the Kayaq hanging overhead reflecting the lights across the room. As the winds howl outside, a lively fire is dancing in the stove, and with his toys and rug inside Beaufort was relaxed in the moment, enjoying it all. Warm is good!

                                    Happy Birthday, Beaufort!

   Friday evening was special for Beaufort - he was finally introduced to the element most common to our northern countries this time of year. And his reaction was amusing as he first contemplated what was changing around him...and then 

                            

                            

There was a lot of very lively activity around the yard before he settled down in the new snow, but the next morning he was finally able to study in the light of day the spectacular change in the surroundings that had at one time been so familiar to him.

 

Now his treasures brought home after our walks together leave their tell tale evidence in a glossy trail across our living room floor... 

   Training for most dogs clearly designates who is training whom. You are responsible to be the master and handler, and the dog looks to you as the lead in the protective elements of his social order - the family or pack, for want of a better term.
   With a Service Dog, however, the lines often cross into a very delicately woven relationship as the dog is helping the handler as he is being trained by the handler. A much more intuitive bond is being formed - and training the Service Dog to realize his role in service is very sensitive issue.
   We've had to absorb a lot through his puppy hood, because as anyone can verify who has raised a puppy into adulthood, some days are better than others...

           

And you have to roll with it, while training him to display better manners through the process of discipline and patience. A lot of patience. 

Getting angry is not an option. It is very hard to train your own dog for that reason - when they torque you off you have to be the one to keep your cool. Dogs live in the moment, so when they are getting into trouble it has to be handled as carefully as it is quickly.

As an example, he may (will, actually - count on it) stick his nose into places where it doesn't belong - hoping it isn't a skunk, you call him off with the command "No, OUT!" If he responds as you hope he will, instantly and comes to you when called in the sequence of events, don't make the mistake of busting him for what he was doing wrong before your commands - he won't get it.

   To him, he was doing his dog thing, following his nose - an ancient primal instinct that has insured the survival of his species for countless centuries. Bluntly put, he didn't know what he was doing was wrong, even if you think he should have known. 

   But when you called him off, he came out and came to you - that was exactly what you've trained him to do, and he's expecting to be praised because it has brought a favorable response before.

If, however when he comes up to you, you chastise him for the act you thought was wrong, you send him a seriously confused signal - he just did what he was supposed to do - and got busted for it. Lesson he learns? Quicker than you would like? 

   The next time you call him, he will do everything possible to avoid you, to prevent getting busted again. Leaving you more confused and angry, because you aren't getting the results you want. You are getting what you've trained him to understand instead.

I had to deal with that frustration recently - he had jumped out of the back of my Jeep when my attention was turned to the bush behind us. At first coming alongside me and receiving his usual welcome, he then took off across the field and into the hedges. I called him, but couldn't see where he had gone. 

   As I circled around to the far side of the hedges, I finally saw him appear, only about 40 feet from me. I was upset, as I had called him before and had not received the response I had trained him for.

Trying to remember that he was still a very young puppy, when he turned to look at me I called him again, kneeling and holding out my hands. That did it - he came at a run, and buried his head into my hands, squirming and wagging his whole body in glee. I had contained myself enough to praise him, in the language he had come to expect from me - and the rest of his adventure worked out, teaching us both. He had fun - I carried the leash closer!

   So trying to be the trainer and handler, while needing him to take the lead and "Pull Point" in taking you out of dark places as your PTSD Service Dog is tricky - being close enough friends to have him sense your need and bring you back, while still understanding that you are the handler - not him.

   That's why he has to rely on certain constants in his relationship with you - with the tone of your voice and your hands as the links to his trained response - until he has learned to trust you so completely, that you won't even sneeze without him worrying.

   A bit difficult to handle sometimes, as he will be under your feet - sometimes literally - when you least expect it. But when you need him, he'll be there.

   And that is exactly what you want.

   We have a saying as K-9 officers - "What goes down the leash, comes up the leash." In other words, what you are with your canine partner he becomes.
   So my hands are his friends - heart and soul. Training a dog to perform a duty as serious as those faced by an officer in the line of duty can't depend on the dog's loyalty to a bag of kibbles.
   When Beaufort is called, it's my voice and love he responds to - not a reward found in a treats bag. I'm the one that needs his help - not the bag of treats.
   I play with him, train him and reward him with my voice, my love, and my hands giving him the rewards of acceptance and praise. Which has to come from your heart - he has to feel it, especially if he is to be as intuitively sensitive as he needs to be as a Service Dog for PTSD.
   You can to a degree train him to be responsive to the outward gestures that come upon you when memories take you into dark places. But a good Service Dog isn't just your servant - he's your companion, and much of what you communicate won't be readily noticed by others. If it goes that far, the dog isn't getting it. And neither are you.
   I remember one evening when a sniper took down one of our patrols, and my patrol dog and I had to flush him out. The building was abandoned and without power - the hallways totally black. I could only read his alerts through the leash - and it was a subtle, quiet exchange out of necessity, with hardly a movement between us. Yet he was still able to tell me where the gunman was - and kept me from making the very serious mistake of an uncontrolled encounter.
   So Beaufort and I grow together in much the same way. We share nearly anything that we can, from food to floor space,

learning and strengthening our bond. Until the day we realize that we move as a unit - and defend each other beyond friendship.

                                Then he's a true Service Dog.

 
    

   Yesterday was an emotional day for me - Beaufort lost his last puppy canine tooth remaining in his lower jaw, and in doing so marked his first real step into adolescence. Still as active as he has ever been, he still is growing and in testing his limits shows his expanding abilities to try us - and love us.
   He will never be a puppy again. Reality is sometimes difficult to appreciate, as I try to get in as much loving as his life with me will allow. I can't turn back the clock, but I can bask in the memories - and his bright future.
   

 

   So the question is raised as to how a Service Dog and an Arctic Kayaq are connected, especially in this blog?
   Raised on Kodiak Island, the Brown Bear capital of the world, I am often asked what the best bear protection is. Out of several answers from bear spray (pepper spray on steriods) to a very large rifle, my first choice is a good dog. Better companionship, alarm system, and response time. No fumbling - the dog has it down, and it isn't the mean ones that I've found to be the best. You want a confident, loyal friend out there, because when the bear pops out of nowhere (and they are quite good at it) you want your first line of defense on top of his game. When the bear is in full charge is no time for buck fever. 
   And the wonderful thing is, blood is seldom if ever lost over the issue. My dogs have stood down at least two boar brownies, the sow mentioned in the article previous, a blackie that went after my children, and untold aversions cleared along the trail - and each time the bear left without a fight. Upset and noisy, thrashing the woods in frustration on occasion, but never with any injuries. Wildly pulsating coronary arteries, perhaps, but the pup was cool, and everyone came out better than the alternatives... 
   So as the shop expands to accommodate the extra workload, he grows and learns - as we bond together into the team we will need to thrive. The Kayaq's design is configured to accommodate us, supplies pondered, procedures thought out. 
   A work in progress that evolves around the heart of my friends...

  
   

   He grew - fast. In less than two weeks he was pushing over three pounds - and by four weeks he was out in the bush following whatever adventure his nose could find.
   

 

And by ten weeks he was in the Veteran's Hospital in New York helping to heal the wounded.

Jonathan's gift was quickly proving his worth, maturing into the intelligent powerfully motivating companion of service that would build the foundation of healing that drugs and human mistherapy could never provide. Only the heart can reach another heart - and this pup was confirming he had that courage in abundance. 

Little did we realize how much - but we were soon to find out.

Beaufort Arctic Sea - A Service Dog Comes of Age

   One thing the Arctic teaches you is the value of responsible companionship. And as I usually travel alone, my companion is most often a canine friend. I don't know if it's just the influence of my Army years during Vietnam, or the way I was raised, but as an Alaskan at a young age I learned to appreciate the value of a good dog's defense senses, and unswerving loyalty.
   In bear country especially, this holds true - and it isn't the mean dogs I've found to be the most protective. Balou, my 107 lb. Landseer Newfoundland was a teddy bear - until the day we stumbled on a Kodiak Brown bear sow with three yearling cubs. He leaped between her full charge and I, bellowing a roar that I had never heard come from his big chest before. She actually came to a scidding halt - then with his second roar turned and, smacking one of her cubs on the rear, disappeared over the embankment and down the mountainside. There's no doubt in my military mind where I wouldn't be today without him.

So When our big Chessy-Shepherd, Sailor passed in February of last year, I had a hard time with the loss. My Wife was supportive, but it was my friendship in the Arctic with Jonathan Nettelfield that turned the tide for us. He kindly Advised me that when Dougal, his prize Yellow Lab, sired another litter, that I would have the pick of the puppies.

It was a long wait as the appropriate time drew near, but the miracle came to our Mother Earth just four days before my 65th birthday. More like a gerbil than a puppy, Beaufort Arctic Sea was far from looking like the promising dog that we knew would one day be our companion, and my Service Dog - but there he was. Reality could not have been sweeter and more exciting even with his helpless beginning. 

                                                                               

   And with the miracle of his first breath, one of only three to survive, our dreams were born with him. Beaufort Arctic Sea was our new beginning, and our hopes grew with his every dawning day. 
   But even with that joy, we had no idea how special he would prove to be. That gift Beaufort would grant us in his own wonderful way - one glowing day at a time. 
   This is the story of our journey together. And what he's giving me.  - WKD