“Why would you get a useless dog?” I remember being stunned by the question. Was there even such a thing? I’ve never been one to measure my companions by any other scale than the joy they bring me.  I had only become involved in competitive obedience (and I use competitive in the loosest sense of the term) for a very short time.  I wasn’t quite prepared for the scales used by others to measure their own dogs and the dogs of others.

“Special Puppy Home Needed” was the title of the email.  The content told of a blind puppy needing a home and not much more.  I don’t know why I printed it out and showed it to my partner.  We certainly weren’t ready for a new puppy, having lost our 14-year-old Rottie only weeks before.  We still had three young dogs at home.  Nevertheless, that Saturday we were driving out to get him.  I remember wondering the whole way if we could handle a blind dog.  As we arrived I still had doubts. When he ran to me, put his paws on my shoulders and gave me a big kiss, my doubts dissolved. We named the puppy “Stevie” with his registered name being Jamar’s Sign’d Seal’d Deliver’d I’m Yours. It was homage to an exceptional man foreshadowing an exceptional dog.

Stevie was exceptional from day one in his aptitude for learning. His first command was “careful”, which he quickly learned meant stop, slow down or change direction depending on the urgency with which the command was delivered.  He learned to sit for a cookie almost instantly.  Without ever being taught, he began ringing the “I have to go out” bell that hangs from the back door. He followed the older dogs around and mapped out the yard in just a few hours. One of our other rescues, Harry (a Rottie/Pitt mix), appointed himself Stevie’s guardian, and together they explored the world. Harry kept Stevie from bumping into anything and taught Stevie the interpersonal skills that dogs need which humans just cannot teach.  Our other Berner, Bob is aloof as they come with strangers. Stevie, on the other hand, was the baby mayor.  He made friends with everyone, human or otherwise, and if they didn’t want to be his friend he would bug them until they did.  Even the cats came to begrudgingly tolerate the feisty and persistent puppy. 

We were strongly cautioned to socialize Stevie even more so than a “normal” puppy, lest he become a fear biter.  I can remember looking over during one of Bob’s obedience classes watching Bronn leading Stevie through the agility weave poles. He was fearless and energetic. He needed a job.

Stevie began obedience classes to learn house manners.  It quickly became apparent that he couldn’t and wouldn’t just stop there.  He loved classes. He loved learning new things and was as capable and quick as any of his sighted classmates. He learned to find heel relative to the sound of our voices.  His sits were crooked but happening. More impressive than his skills, though, was his willingness and ability to learn.  Stevie only needed to “get” what it was you wanted him to do and he would repeat it successfully as many times as you asked him to do it.  After his first few classes it became apparent that Stevie didn’t “want” to be just a housedog. He wanted to perform.  In just a few sessions he graduated into the competition level classes and continued to amaze everyone, myself included, with his willingness and desire to do obedience.

Stevie and I bonded in that way misfits often do.  I loved obedience but had no confidence in my skills as a trainer or handler.  Stevie had confidence enough for both of us.  He learned exercises as I learned how to teach them.  If I got it wrong he would relearn it with me.  He never grumbled or groused, never tired of the repetition and if a session went a little too long, a pat on the head and a “good boy” was all it took to get Stevie in working mode again. 

Training Stevie is not much different than training any of my other dogs. Each one has a style and preference as to how they learn. Stevie is no different. He’s highly treat motivated and sees learning as a game. When I started training, I learned from old school “correction style” teachers.  It’s a style that works for some dogs, but had backfired with Bob. I didn’t want to make the same mistakes so I decided to try positive reinforcement with Stevie.  While teaching “heel” I would ignore his times out of position, gently guide him back where I wanted him to be and praise him when he stayed there. I don’t know if it was the praise or just who Stevie is, but without asking for it I started getting a nice “heel” with heads-up attention.  Turns were a little more difficult.  He turned right well enough with leg patting and treats but “left” was a source of serious bumping, which would never do. Bronn worked with him and got the same results. At some point she decided that it wasn’t the action that was giving Stevie trouble but the word connected to it. She started using the word “out” and lo and behold, no more bumping.  We realized that Stevie connects his own words to the actions and the trick is figuring out what words work.  Jumping was similar. Jump and Hup meant nothing to him.  “Over” works well enough to get him over a short jump but I still haven’t found the magic word that gives him height.  Stevie can jump. He jumps up on the couch, the bed, into the car. He’s even been caught in the middle of the dining room table (a sin the other dogs would never have gotten away with and has never been repeated by Stevie… yet), so we’re working on transferring that skill to jumping in class.

There aren’t too many places to show a blind dog, even one as talented as Stevie. I had fun competing with Bob, though, and wanted to try. My teacher said APDT (Association of Pet Dog Trainers) let any dog who was not in pain compete in their Rally Obedience trials.  I contented myself with the idea of Rally titles but was disappointed that Stevie would never get a CD.  Just before Stevie’s second birthday a new registry was formed. The Companion Dog Sports Program (Sponsored by St Huberts Animal Welfare Center in NJ) also allows any dog who is not in pain to compete. They offer the traditional obedience classes, Novice, Open and Utility. Stevie and I would get our chance to try for a CD after all.

It certainly hasn’t been all wine and roses.  It never is with any dog. The first time we went to a match I got quite the education. The room was quite large and open like a warehouse.  Consequently the acoustics were very poor and echo filled.  About 50 feet off the back of the building are commuter train tracks. As soon as we walked in Stevie’s tail dropped and he was visibly nervous.  I had never seen him like that before but thought he would work through it. Bob had gotten nervous at a few sites but was able to rebound and perform for me.  Our first run was a disaster.  I was used to talking quietly to Stevie in class and didn’t think to adjust my own voice to compensate for the poor acoustics.  We barely made it through the course, ending in a recall where Stevie sideswiped the ring gate.  The woman judging the match came over and gave me a lot of encouragement and advice, she too thought he could work through his nervousness given some time.  Stevie and I sat down to wait for our next run.  After a while he seemed to calm down and his tail was wagging tentatively.  We went in for our second run and things were going much better.  I was talking louder and Stevie was able to give me pretty good attention as we worked through the course.  I was starting to feel better about keeping Stevie in the match until someone moved a chair, it echoed through the room and Stevie hit the deck.  He was petrified. We stopped working and I bent down and hugged him. I told him how brave he was and what a good boy he was.  In a few moments he was able to continue and we finished the course but his tail wasn’t wagging and he was still very nervous.  We were scheduled for 4 runs that day but we decided to pull the remaining entries and leave.  As soon as we were outside Stevie’s tail was up and wagging and he was a happy boy once again.  His resiliency never ceases to amaze me. On the way home we stopped for a burger and decided that Stevie didn’t ever have to go back to that facility again.  There are plenty of other places to show.  That day is now known as “Stevie and the no good, really bad, terrible, awful day”.

At our first show in CDSP novice I was so nervous I forgot to remind the judge that Stevie was the blind dog. Between that and my own foul ups we barely qualified with a 170.5. That afternoon I calmed myself down and showed up for my dog in the ring. We got our second CD leg with an impressive 196.  For that run Stevie placed 2nd in his class and received the award for Highest Scoring Rescue Dog In Trial. For Stevie’s titling leg he earned his CD-H and an award for the Highest Scoring Physically Challenged Dog in the trial. 

That same day Stevie earned his CD-H he also earned his APDT Rally Level 1 title with a 193 and 1st place in his class. The judge gave a nice speech about what an exceptional dog Stevie is and how hard he works both in the ring and out. She said she loves the registry (APDT) because they allow dogs like Stevie to work, have fun and compete just like “normal” dogs.  She also commented on how much fun Stevie is to watch while he’s in the ring and how you would never know he is blind.  Stevie's other qualifying scores for his RL1 title were 198 and 189. As we were leaving that day a gentleman approached me and asked about Stevie.  He had a tear in his eye and said “When Stevie does good EVERYBODY feels good”.

Not long after Stevie finished those titles we decided to enter Rally Level 2.  Level 2 is all off lead. Because my other dogs stayed at the beginner levels, I never had the experience of entering the ring and immediately removing the leash.  July 8th would normally be very hot but this year it was cool and pleasant. Rally matches are hard to find so for his first entry I planned to use it as a match and not worry about how Stevie performed but see what exercises we needed to work on.  I wasn’t nervous at all when we entered the ring.  I removed the leash and Stevie and I moved to the start line. We had a little bobble when I asked him to sit so we turned around and this time he sat.  The first couple of exercises were easy enough but the cones for weaving were small and very close together and I wondered if we would get through them.  I kept talking so Stevie could locate me and we made it through without a hitch.  The next tough exercise was the “Moving Down”, it’s an exercise we struggle with in class but we got to the sign, I told him to “down” and he did it perfectly.  We moved through the course at a pretty good pace just working each exercise like we would in class. There was a 90 degree pivot left, a recall, some other signs I can’t remember and then we were moving towards the jump.  It suddenly occurred to me that if Stevie took the jump we would qualify!  The nervous adrenaline shot through me and I could barely breathe. The exercise after the jump was a call front-finish right so when Stevie got to heel position and was seated I stopped and took several deep breaths. I could hear people chuckling but I didn’t want to look up. I knew I would see a large audience and be too frightened to move.  I rushed through the next sign and fumbled a command, which resulted in a crooked sit from Stevie but a few steps later we were done.  We had actually QUALIFIED our first time out.  The judge came over and said, “That’s the most incredible dog I have ever seen”. I think I said “thank you”.  I HOPE I did. I looked up and saw everyone around the ring (and there was quite a crowd) clapping and cheering. We got a standing ovation!  I bent and hugged Stevie and started to cry.  Lots of people came over to congratulate us including one woman who had to see for herself that he was blind.  She said she had watched Stevie’s run and while it was nice she couldn’t understand why everyone was cheering. She asked the woman next to her and couldn’t believe it when the woman told her that Stevie is totally blind.  A few moments later we saw Stevie’s score posted to the board. We had entered hoping to use the run as a match and Stevie had earned a 198!  At the awards we learned he had placed 4th in his class of over 25 dogs including dogs with some very advanced obedience titles.  I couldn’t have been more proud.

Stevie gave me an opportunity to work and compete in obedience that I could not get with my other dogs.  He also gave me back faith in myself as a handler, a trainer and as a person.  Stevie approaches each day as an adventure.  He is incredible to watch even if he’s just moving through his day being a dog.  When he works in the ring he is poetry in motion.   We’re a true team. He is the most loyal and willing partner I could ever ask for.  He is my buddy, my teammate, my teacher, my companion, and my friend.  I can never give him what he has given me but I try to make each day as full as possible because he deserves it.  I think back to being asked why I would get a “useless dog” and I laugh. Useless indeed!