Our Way

Our Way11-22-2024 | Blog Entry 13

Before bringing Spirit home, I did a lot of research. Originally, I had considered training Copper. We even did an evaluation with a trainer who said it was probably possible, but in my heart I knew he wasn’t temperamentally stable enough for me to fully trust him in crowded environments if he were to spook. He was—and still is—an incredible dog, but if there is one thing a service dog must be, it is stable.

Spirit has been attacked and has had several negative experiences throughout her life, but because our training has always focused on resiliency, none of these experiences were career-ending. When I first brought Spirit home, much of the advice we received centered around perfection: suppressing unwanted behaviors, maintaining public image, and worrying about how others might perceive us. If I were to start this process again, I would do many things differently.

There are some basic starting points that are undeniably useful. Choose a healthy dog, do basic temperament testing, and ensure there are no major, obvious incompatibilities—such as an intense drive you are unprepared for or significant nervous instability. I chose Spirit knowing she would likely have a strong bird-pointing drive and very high energy. One thing I would tell my past self is this: her working life is only one part of the life we share.

Spirit 'On-duty' is only a fraction of our life together, many of our moments are like these, snuggled up at home in the safety of our teddy bears.

It’s essential to understand your own personality and lifestyle before bringing a dog home. For many people, Spirit’s energy and drive would be deal breakers. She would probably not be a good candidate for guide work, because even though she listens around birds, her genetic need to point will always exist. But my lifestyle includes marathon training, long runs, backpacking, and spending days at a time outdoors. I am high-energy and driven myself. What might be a flaw for one person is exactly what makes Spirit my perfect mirror. I chose her because we understand each other.

Many people judged me for Spirit’s behavior around birds and told me it meant she wasn’t a “real” service dog. If I were starting again, I would be clearer—both with myself and others—about what I wanted our life together to look like. I would design our training plan around our actual lives rather than chasing a standard of perfection. My expectations would be shaped by what a good, full life looks like for us—not by an image.

Of course, there are foundational standards every service dog needs: the ability to navigate crowds calmly, settle in public spaces, maintain spatial awareness, recall, obedience, and distraction training. But if I could go back, I would shift my priorities slightly. One thing I am glad I did was emphasize socialization over obedience in Spirit’s first year. If anything, I would take that even further.

I would focus on my puppy genuinely loving children, other dogs, horses, livestock, cats, and small animals. I would emphasize environmental stability and add more play in challenging environments rather than strict obedience alone. After so much early distraction training and obedience work, I found myself with a dog who was highly obedient—but not always fully relaxed. If I could redo things, I would focus less on early public-access perfection and more on building deep, general stability.

While much of Spirit’s early training took place indoors or around the neighborhood, I allowed the forest to remain a “fun” space. In hindsight, I would introduce structured training in difficult environments earlier while still leaving room for curiosity and interaction everywhere. There is enormous pressure placed on puppies to be perfect, and any deviation is often treated as failure. That pressure robbed us of joy at times. If I could do it again, I would still set milestones—but I would stop comparing us to an unrealistic standard that only comes with time.

If my six-month-old puppy were distractible, I would no longer see that as failure. I would make more room for humor. Instead of pass-fail tests, I would rely more on evaluations that look at the whole dog. Spirit is not only a service dog in public; our lives are fully intertwined. Skills like playing at the dog park, greeting dogs politely, visiting farms, playing with children, swimming, camping, and enjoying off-leash time are just as integral to our lives as flying on planes or tasking at school.

Another thing I would strongly recommend is building friendships with a wide range of people. Early on, I mostly connected with other service dog handlers. While that was helpful for distraction training, Spirit truly flourished when we began spending more time with regular dog owners. Pack walks, playdates, and house visits helped her become genuinely comfortable around dogs—not just capable of ignoring them.

Spirit needs friends too!

Friends without dogs were equally important. These normal life interactions, and having a resilient community, meant that when Spirit experienced things like being attacked or when we went through a break-and-enter that created new fears, we were supported. These people knew her as a loving dog, not as a project. They were less attached to outcomes and more able to help me stay grounded when I felt like giving up. Building this network was integral to my own recovery. It's also important that your entire identity is not tied to being a service dog handler. I need my friends and family, whether I have a service dog or not. These are important indicators of wellness. Spirit is a huge part of my life but she is not the only thing in my life. Continue creating meaningful connections throughout your journey. I found that the need to validate my experience as a person with a service dog led me to push others away. If I could go back I would tell myself that I belong with Spirit and don't need to prove it to anyone - just let people in.

Build yourself a community, it doesn't take away from your partnership. The people that love you, will love you with or without your service dog. They add to this experience we call life.

A service dog—especially for mental health—should ultimately lead you toward being more engaged, prosocial, and stable within your community. Obedience matters, but adaptability and emotional resilience matter too.

I would also place a much greater emphasis on simply having fun together. Hikes. Beach days. Low-pressure training. Showing up to activities even when things won’t be perfect. You are going to live a long time together. If I am lucky, Spirit will not retire until she is around twelve. Given her breed and energy level, she may remain active well into old age and live to sixteen.

In a sixteen-year relationship, there will be good days, hard days, conflicts, joy, growth, and rest. Expecting perfection at every stage steals something essential from the experience. A peaceful walk became an opportunity for self-judgment over our performance far too often. While every moment can be a training opportunity, every moment is also part of life. Don't rob yourself of the joy of living.

Still a service dog, even when frolicking in the sun soaked moss-fields of the East Coast.

Yes, be responsible. Work hard. Reach the necessary standard of training. But do not let ambition consume you. Make space for rest and joy. Your disability is not your entire identity. Make time for friends, family, hobbies—and for days when your service dog is simply your dog. Go on dates. Go to the movies. Allow yourself to occasionally go out without your service dog while training. A service dog is a profound lifestyle change, and their impact is not only measured in daily tasking, but in the long arc of your life.

One thing I did differently than others but would not have changed at all is how I approached social interaction. I was often told to teach Spirit to ignore everyone. Instead, I allowed her to say hello. That choice built deep trust between us. Fifty children can rush her, and I know she will be okay. A strange dog can run toward us, and I know how she will respond.

Spirit was meant to support my mental health, but the life we’ve built together has gone far beyond that. Visiting hospitals, spreading joy on campus, standing in front of hundreds of children, and even helping rehabilitate aggressive dogs have added immeasurable value to my life. Some people say this makes her a “fake” service dog. To me, it is the most meaningful work she has ever done. She gives me so much by letting me love the world again, not just protecting me from it.

I hate the harsh “DO NOT PET” vest. I remember visiting a family with eight young children, several of whom were afraid of dogs. When Spirit wore her froggy raincoat, their curiosity replaced fear. When she wore her official vest, they told me she looked scary. Around campus, people who fear dogs have told me that seeing Spirit regularly—in all her silly outfits—helped soften that fear. Even those who remain afraid say they recognize that Spirit is a good dog.

If I can help shape a gentler image of dogs—a species that has given me so much—I will gladly do so.

What she wears does not make her any less of a skilled professional.

At the end of the day, this is your journey. Traditional advice about health, temperament, and training still matters. But I encourage you to think deeply about what your life with your dog will truly look like. Maybe a toy poodle is perfect for you. Maybe you are committed to rescue. There are countless valid paths.

I will continue my life with high-drive sporting and herding dogs. I will continue letting thousands of people love Spirit alongside me. I will continue training—for service work, for life, and to one day run a 100-kilometer ultramarathon. Maybe my next dog will be an agility star or a search-and-rescue dog. I will still do the work required to meet the standard, because this is my life, and this is the life that makes sense for me.

Spirit has done more for me than calm me when I fear my own shadow. She is part of my purpose. She helps me trust. She helps me give. She helps me love more openly. When I add a romantic partner to my life, they will need to understand that love, for me, is collective—that Spirit is not separate from who I am, but part of how I move through the world.

This is my life. Only I can shape it for me.

From a team willing to move the stars for each other, — Julia & Spirit