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My Hobbie, My Dogs
- Thread starter BobbyR
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200racing
Well-known member
barkers ears kill me :LOL2: . look like great companions.
i want a service/therapy to visit kids in the hospital. having been visited by one my self and seen how much it encourages other. i would have one now if my oldest dog wasnt diabetic with vison issues, just doesnt seem fair to make her deal with a new pup.
i actually picked a pup my dog had just for that. i picked the calmest most relaxed one in the litter. when he started growing he got more nervous and shy. my would be service dog has been petted by 3 people in his life. me, my mom and dad. my brother in law has fed and tried to play with him for 6 years. when he calls him he gets about 7 foot away and just stares at him. :roll:
i want a service/therapy to visit kids in the hospital. having been visited by one my self and seen how much it encourages other. i would have one now if my oldest dog wasnt diabetic with vison issues, just doesnt seem fair to make her deal with a new pup.
i actually picked a pup my dog had just for that. i picked the calmest most relaxed one in the litter. when he started growing he got more nervous and shy. my would be service dog has been petted by 3 people in his life. me, my mom and dad. my brother in law has fed and tried to play with him for 6 years. when he calls him he gets about 7 foot away and just stares at him. :roll:
Dogs, our story:
It all started when her mother was gravely ill. Our family dog had just passed, and that added weight to the pending doom. One day leaving the hospital the elevator door opened and there were two dogs leaving the children's hospital. We were both on the edge of tears thinking we may never see my mother-in-law again and in come these happy therapy dogs. They worked their magic and we got a moment of relief, a break from the reality of life and death. Somehow, they changed us, and now we know it was forever.
On the ride home, I told the wife, "You could do that, you could find a dog and do that therapy work." She was on a mission.
There was a Bernese Mountain Dog that used to get walked near her parents house, a charming and sweet dog and she thought that might be the type of dog she would like. A lot went on she found a Saint Bernard/Bernese Mountain Dog mix, a days drive away (each way) and not ready for a month but she was convinced, that's "Her".
A month later we went out to Ohio to get her. She was right. She is the dog. Time passed and through training at home and some fine tuning from some local folks, right after her first birthday (therapy dogs need to be a year old to test) they achieved the goal. She is a great dog and loves to do the therapy work. Rock on Molly.
The jealous husband...aka me.
Dammit, I want a dog. So I started looking for this Saint Bernard mix thing because it worked so well the first time. I found a person that had a Saint Bernard, Greater Swiss Mountain Dog mix. Cool, we're in, let's go see the dogs. They were a two hour drive from home but a nice weekend drive. We get there, start looking around and an 11 week old Saint runs up to me. He was getting old for a 'puppy' and the breeder was upset knowing we came to see her 'hybrids'. He picked me and that was that. Now we have two dogs.
Magnus, my dog, and I finished our therapy dog this summer, again, right after his first birthday. We are still waiting on some paperwork before we can go on visits with Molly but we are close.
In the interim, a local friend of ours who every two years-ish has a litter of saint bernards, called us one day asking if we were still looking for a dog. She knew we were looking for a big dog when we found mine. We should have said no. Let me repeat that, we should have said no. Buuut we didn't, we heard a story of a lady that passed the screening this breeder uses, and how she turned out to be a goof. She asked us, forgoing many many other adopter requests, to go get this pup. The original adopter didn't realize that an 8 week old dog might pee on your new hardwood floors, and your dog allergy will flair with long haired dog.
We get there and the pups left rear foot is blood red. The lady says, "I should have worn my glasses when i trimmed her nails" Just so you know this lady had this dog for a total of about 140-150 hours, that's right, less than a week. My Mrs was 'less than happy' and I had to talk her out of a lot of terrible ideas.
So now we have three dogs, happy, healthy, social, and big. Our dogs are our hobby too.
It all started when her mother was gravely ill. Our family dog had just passed, and that added weight to the pending doom. One day leaving the hospital the elevator door opened and there were two dogs leaving the children's hospital. We were both on the edge of tears thinking we may never see my mother-in-law again and in come these happy therapy dogs. They worked their magic and we got a moment of relief, a break from the reality of life and death. Somehow, they changed us, and now we know it was forever.
On the ride home, I told the wife, "You could do that, you could find a dog and do that therapy work." She was on a mission.
There was a Bernese Mountain Dog that used to get walked near her parents house, a charming and sweet dog and she thought that might be the type of dog she would like. A lot went on she found a Saint Bernard/Bernese Mountain Dog mix, a days drive away (each way) and not ready for a month but she was convinced, that's "Her".
A month later we went out to Ohio to get her. She was right. She is the dog. Time passed and through training at home and some fine tuning from some local folks, right after her first birthday (therapy dogs need to be a year old to test) they achieved the goal. She is a great dog and loves to do the therapy work. Rock on Molly.
The jealous husband...aka me.
Dammit, I want a dog. So I started looking for this Saint Bernard mix thing because it worked so well the first time. I found a person that had a Saint Bernard, Greater Swiss Mountain Dog mix. Cool, we're in, let's go see the dogs. They were a two hour drive from home but a nice weekend drive. We get there, start looking around and an 11 week old Saint runs up to me. He was getting old for a 'puppy' and the breeder was upset knowing we came to see her 'hybrids'. He picked me and that was that. Now we have two dogs.
Magnus, my dog, and I finished our therapy dog this summer, again, right after his first birthday. We are still waiting on some paperwork before we can go on visits with Molly but we are close.
In the interim, a local friend of ours who every two years-ish has a litter of saint bernards, called us one day asking if we were still looking for a dog. She knew we were looking for a big dog when we found mine. We should have said no. Let me repeat that, we should have said no. Buuut we didn't, we heard a story of a lady that passed the screening this breeder uses, and how she turned out to be a goof. She asked us, forgoing many many other adopter requests, to go get this pup. The original adopter didn't realize that an 8 week old dog might pee on your new hardwood floors, and your dog allergy will flair with long haired dog.
We get there and the pups left rear foot is blood red. The lady says, "I should have worn my glasses when i trimmed her nails" Just so you know this lady had this dog for a total of about 140-150 hours, that's right, less than a week. My Mrs was 'less than happy' and I had to talk her out of a lot of terrible ideas.
So now we have three dogs, happy, healthy, social, and big. Our dogs are our hobby too.
Kismet
Well-known member
Decent. REALLY decent.
Unless you've been in the bed, you can't appreciate fully the...call it "suspension of current reality"...that occurs when one of the service dogs comes up, plops its head on the bed, and sighs as you skritch around its ears and neck. It takes you out of yourself and you get happy that this critter likes you, wants you to pay attention to it, and does't care about anything but the moment. For a while, neither do you.
Congratulations to you folks.
=D> =D> =D>
Unless you've been in the bed, you can't appreciate fully the...call it "suspension of current reality"...that occurs when one of the service dogs comes up, plops its head on the bed, and sighs as you skritch around its ears and neck. It takes you out of yourself and you get happy that this critter likes you, wants you to pay attention to it, and does't care about anything but the moment. For a while, neither do you.
Congratulations to you folks.
=D> =D> =D>
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