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.