Winter has it's ways of stimulating some very effective ways of coping - as we used to enjoy on the homestead in Alaska, with the long nights, the ski trails beckoning, and the Northern Lights dancing across the sky...the fireplace after a long day in the field and a large, hot mug of cocoa to enjoy with good music...
   After a good meal, Beaufort has the Danish method of dealing with the season perfected. 
   Hygge, anyone...? 
   

 

   As Beaufort is a travel companion in his duties as my support system, I've had to make some provision for accommodations in various ways. 
   The Jeep was an easy adjustment,

as the rear seat came out for adequate space and formed the perfect, enclosed "playpen" for our journeys together. 
   I have also pulled into my shop the skiff that, when the restoration is completed, will allow us travel over much of Cobscook Bay, which is right up on our back yard.
   But the challenge has been the 17 foot Kayaq that I'm building for us, especially as it is designed to operate with a rowing "engine" rather than the usual double paddles.

I have been specific in the provision of not only the forward facing oaring engine device, but allowing for normal paddle maneuvers as well.
   The difficulties are in the nature of the craft itself, which require stability, ease of movement and maneuvering, and still have the cargo capacity of it's heritage with the low profile necessary to allow reduced windage - in other words, a low enough profile to lessen the action of the wind over the vessel's structure.
   Then fit in a dog, enabling him to enter and exit freely, while maintaining the stability and watertight integrity of the kayaq - and still allow him to breathe...all while spending several hours together at sea...you get the picture.
   The solution as far as positioning goes cannot be aft of the cockpit, as the strength of the framing would be compromised in the fabrication of an opening in a vessel this small. And as the balance is critical, the solution could only be in the forward area of the cockpit, just ahead of where I am positioned in the oaring seat.

There is the space and buoyancy required, with an interesting variation in the covering design and framing allowing his own "port" forward of mine, but entering through the same cockpit and allowing him both the comfort of a roomy berth, and the ventilation through my working area.
   It will prove challenging to provide him with the opening in a way that not only allows me the freedom to work, but protects the watertight integrity of the vessel, as I must incorporate these features into the entire cockpit arrangement. I have to work through the challenges of sealing around the oaring engine, so the solution must coordinate both areas effectively and still keep his berth ventilated and dry in a heavy seaway. A bit of a challenge, to be sure - especially as most often the weather refuses to cooperate...but what to do as we finish her, giving us time to get it right?
   Maybe we will just cruise together on the Royal Enfield for awhile, and visit family while he gets used to the idea...after all, the view is great from the sidecar - and there's a lot to be said for good restaurants along the way.
   

                                                 Woof!

   Beaufort has a way of working through his problems that can prove rather unique. 
   One such endeavor came about with the difficulties presented in taking care of "business" during sub zero weather. Our temperatures have been hovering through December at -10 to -18 degrees (F), with the wind chill factored in taking it down to under -30 and lower. Poor Beaufort would try to do everything he was responsible for at one time, but with his feet freezing the young pup found it wasn't working, to say the least. 
   So he started using the door bells to alert us, so he could go out and take care of the first "order of business". Then he would come into the boat shop or home to warm his freezing feet, until ready to tackle the second "order of business". Ringing the bells again, he would go out and expedite the necessary process - then he would show his contempt for the inclimate conditions by digging a ball of crusted snow or ice out of the yard and, carrying it as a triumphant trophy would come into the house with his head and tail held high. Trotting up to the hearth, he will then plop down and proceed to munch happily on his treat in front of the fireplace.
   This dog is not stupid - not by a long shot.

   

 

           Then a nap would, of course, be next in the order of priorities...
  

   Training becomes under these conditions more of a form of close order drill, with his basic obedience advancing to off leash and more silent hand signals as we do a lot of our work indoors. In addition, his PTSD focus becomes more diverse, covering areas not normally taught to other dogs in the field. But as a former officer I like to know what's going on around me, so he is trained accordingly. 
   In addition to his successful intuition pulling me out of dark places, which he is becoming quite good at without the usually trained "look for outside gestures" other dogs are taught to respond to (if the kibble bag doesn't run out), he is also learning to spot potential problems that could be a danger for us and others around us. One such alert comes if he detects a concealed weapon on someone close by. 
   Others come if I'm being crowded, or being pushed by too much activity around me. This has proven to be one of the more difficult areas for him to comprehend as he likes people, and has a hard time understanding that these kind of conditions create a tense situation for me - one I need him to guard me from. So I have to train him first, to remain beside me and focused on what I'm doing and feeling, rather than what he wants to do - in other words, what he intuitively needs to do instead of what he instinctively wants to do. He picks up on every other training situation readily, but this one works against the natural friendly nature of a Lab and takes some real patience on my part.
   Especially around children.
   But a regulated order of training, in small enough doses that as a pup he can more easily cope with, enable us to make slow but noticeable progress. He's intelligent as well as loyal, which works in our favor. The efforts to keep my hands as his friends begin now to prove valuable as he eagerly looks to me for approval, instead of pulling away when a kibble bag runs dry. 
   A good thing, because kibbles attract bears...and we'd rather have a good piece of pie in front of a nice warm fire...maybe a large piece...or two...?!!

Then Hygge...

                                           for a Happy New Year!

   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.