Help please......
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TAK
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Help please......
Some time ago there was a post about a dog "Willow" that was very instrumental to a Autistic child. I could have swore I read it here but may be wrong. Wagonmaster was it you that posted it or do you know about what I am talking about? It was a thread about "Field Trial Dogs" and how crazy they are or something along them lines? I have searched the heck out of here and can't find it...... Any help on a link to it please.............
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Goshawk
This one????
see Wagonmasters post on page two.
http://www.gundogforum.com/forum/viewto ... c&start=15
see Wagonmasters post on page two.
http://www.gundogforum.com/forum/viewto ... c&start=15
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TAK
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Wagonmaster
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The dog was Spot's mother. The child is my son.
Eldon refreshes the content on the site from time to time, so it has probably been replaced by things from this last year. If I can't find it for you Tom I will write it again. Will have to wait until tomorrow though.
Sure you can reprint as much as you want.
Eldon refreshes the content on the site from time to time, so it has probably been replaced by things from this last year. If I can't find it for you Tom I will write it again. Will have to wait until tomorrow though.
Sure you can reprint as much as you want.
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TAK
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Wagonmaster wrote:The dog was Spot's mother. The child is my son.
Eldon refreshes the content on the site from time to time, so it has probably been replaced by things from this last year. If I can't find it for you Tom I will write it again. Will have to wait until tomorrow though.
Sure you can reprint as much as you want.
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Wagonmaster
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I think the material is gone Tom. Eldon's site has been refreshed, and I did not save it myself. Other than the link Goshawk provided, it is no more, and that material was written in the middle of a "vigorous discussion." Like all good stories, it has continued, so at the risk of boring those who have read it before, here we go:
Reba came into our life in the spring of 1996. She had an impressive pedigree. Nearly all of her progenitors in the prior five generations were Field Champions, the exceptions being a small number of matrons out of field trial stock that were bred and not trialed. Her sire was the 1994 National Amateur Champion Antrims Wayside Willie, and names such as FC Dixieland's Rusty and his sister, NFC DC Leipchen Buddendorff, both Hall of Fame dogs, appeared in her pedigree. But she was just Reba to us.
For the first 2 1/2 years of her life, she was an outside kennel dog. Then one day the kids and I ganged up on the wife, and Reba moved into the house.
One of my sons, Steven, was 10 or 11 at the time. Steven has Asperger's syndrome, a form of high functioning autism. No one quite understands the causes of autism. It is a disease in which the child turns inward, may rock, becomes compulsive about some things, does not relate to others. Some children become completely self-absorbed. It first appeared in our son when he was in first grade. We moved him to a local public school with a wonderful special education program. But in his elementary and middle school years he was becoming increasingly withdrawn and sometimes difficult to handle.
The relationship between Reba and Steven did not start out well. A few days after she moved in there was a moment when she was stepped on and barked at Steven, which frightened Steven terribly. But for some inexplicable reason the two of them found each other anyway.
As time passed, Reba appointed herself as the care and comfort dog for my son. Kids with autism sometimes have difficulty sleeping, they are agitated. Reba would get in bed with Steven and lay her head over him. It would quiet him and he would sleep. A ritual developed where, before going to school in the morning, he would lie on a couch upstairs with his favorite blanket, and Reba would crawl under it with him. After 15 minutes or so, he would be ready to face the world.
Those who know dogs have seen the look of duty in the eyes of seeing eye dogs, the look that says they would rather be playing frisbee or something, but this is their job, their duty, their calling. We would sometimes see that look in Reba's eyes.
About a year after Reba moved in, Steven went through a very difficult period. He had serial strep throat. He would be off antibiotics for a few days and then would catch it again. Seven times in a row over several months. As the doctors explained it to us, some autistic kids are very sensitive to the antigens their bodies create to fight the strep. And the antibiotics the doctors had to use, suppressed the medications used to ameliorate his autism. Steven was losing touch with his world and his surroundings. We and his physicians were fearful that he would fall over the edge into a psychosis from which there might be no return.
One of our strategies during this time was to get him to school ever day he was not contagious, even if he could not stay long. It would give him social contact. It would also keep him in the habit of going to school so that when - and if - we were able to turn the illnesses around, he would not resist going back.
Reba was the cure. Steven would not accept physical contact from humans, but he would from Reba. So every morning we would have Reba wake him, we would feed him some breakfast and throw some clothes on him. He would take Reba by the leash and they would go to the car, where she would sit with him for the ride to school. Once there, he would take her leash again and she would lead him into the school, up the two flights of stairs to the classroom.
Reba was a very pretty and friendly dog. She smiled at people, nibbled noses and ears. She became Steven's social interface for a few minutes each morning. Oh Steven! What a pretty dog. Can I pet her? What is her name? And Steven would well up with pride, and would come out of his shell and talk for awhile.
Eventually the doctors were able to stop the strep throat. Reba no longer needed to take Steven to his classroom. But she would still, every day, lay on the couch with him in the morning, quiet him at night, and ride in the car to school.
Life is not forever. We knew the day would come when Reba would no longer be with us. So we had a litter bred to another National Champion, Moesgaard's RB Rhthym N Blues, in the event something happened to Reba. We kept two, Spot the trial dog, and Whitey, a female, to keep at home.
One day Reba showed signs of illness. A trip to the vet resulted in a diagnosis of incurable cancer. My initial instructions were not to wake her from the exploratory surgery if that was the finding, but when I phoned my wife and Steven they would have none of it. My wife left work, found Steven at school, and they spent the whole day at the vet. His surgery prolonged her life for a few months so that we could say goodbye. I was able to take her on one last hunt with my two sons along. Oblivious to the cancer, she cleaned the field. At last I had to insist that she come in, that our many years of hunting together were over. The most poignant "Come" command I believe I have ever given to a dog.
I wish I could say she left us peacefully. The cancer reached her brain finally and she went into a long seizure. My son, Steven, was with me when we took her to the vet and he made the decision to let her go. I was very proud of him.
We laid her to rest on a hillside overlooking the field in which I train my dogs. She is there to watch and observe, a reminder to me to be as patient and gentle with her children as she was with mine.
Whitey stepped into Reba's role. Until this year, she would ride to school with Steven. Sleep with him for at least awhile every night. Crawl under the covers on the couch in the morning.
With the help and assistance of many, including "his" dogs, Steven has emerged. He is a senior in high school. He drives himself to school every day. He has a job as an intern in the engineering department of a local manufacturing company. Whitey no longer rides to school with him, it is not needed anymore. But he still lies, for a few minutes each morning, under that blanket, on that couch, with the daughter of Reba.
Spot, Reba's son, became an Field Champion at two years of age, running in All Age stakes. He has multiple placements in NGSPA hour championships, both Shooting Dog and All Age. He is home on vacation right now, a big oaf that lies on my bed and takes up the whole thing. Whitey and Spot are my hunting companions. We harvest many sharptail, rooster pheasants, some huns every year.
I would not sell a field trial dog to just anyone. They need training and one needs to know how to handle them. They are wonderful hunting companions. Full choke noses and manners to go with. But in my book, in my house, in my son's life and mine, they are quite a bit more.
Reba came into our life in the spring of 1996. She had an impressive pedigree. Nearly all of her progenitors in the prior five generations were Field Champions, the exceptions being a small number of matrons out of field trial stock that were bred and not trialed. Her sire was the 1994 National Amateur Champion Antrims Wayside Willie, and names such as FC Dixieland's Rusty and his sister, NFC DC Leipchen Buddendorff, both Hall of Fame dogs, appeared in her pedigree. But she was just Reba to us.
For the first 2 1/2 years of her life, she was an outside kennel dog. Then one day the kids and I ganged up on the wife, and Reba moved into the house.
One of my sons, Steven, was 10 or 11 at the time. Steven has Asperger's syndrome, a form of high functioning autism. No one quite understands the causes of autism. It is a disease in which the child turns inward, may rock, becomes compulsive about some things, does not relate to others. Some children become completely self-absorbed. It first appeared in our son when he was in first grade. We moved him to a local public school with a wonderful special education program. But in his elementary and middle school years he was becoming increasingly withdrawn and sometimes difficult to handle.
The relationship between Reba and Steven did not start out well. A few days after she moved in there was a moment when she was stepped on and barked at Steven, which frightened Steven terribly. But for some inexplicable reason the two of them found each other anyway.
As time passed, Reba appointed herself as the care and comfort dog for my son. Kids with autism sometimes have difficulty sleeping, they are agitated. Reba would get in bed with Steven and lay her head over him. It would quiet him and he would sleep. A ritual developed where, before going to school in the morning, he would lie on a couch upstairs with his favorite blanket, and Reba would crawl under it with him. After 15 minutes or so, he would be ready to face the world.
Those who know dogs have seen the look of duty in the eyes of seeing eye dogs, the look that says they would rather be playing frisbee or something, but this is their job, their duty, their calling. We would sometimes see that look in Reba's eyes.
About a year after Reba moved in, Steven went through a very difficult period. He had serial strep throat. He would be off antibiotics for a few days and then would catch it again. Seven times in a row over several months. As the doctors explained it to us, some autistic kids are very sensitive to the antigens their bodies create to fight the strep. And the antibiotics the doctors had to use, suppressed the medications used to ameliorate his autism. Steven was losing touch with his world and his surroundings. We and his physicians were fearful that he would fall over the edge into a psychosis from which there might be no return.
One of our strategies during this time was to get him to school ever day he was not contagious, even if he could not stay long. It would give him social contact. It would also keep him in the habit of going to school so that when - and if - we were able to turn the illnesses around, he would not resist going back.
Reba was the cure. Steven would not accept physical contact from humans, but he would from Reba. So every morning we would have Reba wake him, we would feed him some breakfast and throw some clothes on him. He would take Reba by the leash and they would go to the car, where she would sit with him for the ride to school. Once there, he would take her leash again and she would lead him into the school, up the two flights of stairs to the classroom.
Reba was a very pretty and friendly dog. She smiled at people, nibbled noses and ears. She became Steven's social interface for a few minutes each morning. Oh Steven! What a pretty dog. Can I pet her? What is her name? And Steven would well up with pride, and would come out of his shell and talk for awhile.
Eventually the doctors were able to stop the strep throat. Reba no longer needed to take Steven to his classroom. But she would still, every day, lay on the couch with him in the morning, quiet him at night, and ride in the car to school.
Life is not forever. We knew the day would come when Reba would no longer be with us. So we had a litter bred to another National Champion, Moesgaard's RB Rhthym N Blues, in the event something happened to Reba. We kept two, Spot the trial dog, and Whitey, a female, to keep at home.
One day Reba showed signs of illness. A trip to the vet resulted in a diagnosis of incurable cancer. My initial instructions were not to wake her from the exploratory surgery if that was the finding, but when I phoned my wife and Steven they would have none of it. My wife left work, found Steven at school, and they spent the whole day at the vet. His surgery prolonged her life for a few months so that we could say goodbye. I was able to take her on one last hunt with my two sons along. Oblivious to the cancer, she cleaned the field. At last I had to insist that she come in, that our many years of hunting together were over. The most poignant "Come" command I believe I have ever given to a dog.
I wish I could say she left us peacefully. The cancer reached her brain finally and she went into a long seizure. My son, Steven, was with me when we took her to the vet and he made the decision to let her go. I was very proud of him.
We laid her to rest on a hillside overlooking the field in which I train my dogs. She is there to watch and observe, a reminder to me to be as patient and gentle with her children as she was with mine.
Whitey stepped into Reba's role. Until this year, she would ride to school with Steven. Sleep with him for at least awhile every night. Crawl under the covers on the couch in the morning.
With the help and assistance of many, including "his" dogs, Steven has emerged. He is a senior in high school. He drives himself to school every day. He has a job as an intern in the engineering department of a local manufacturing company. Whitey no longer rides to school with him, it is not needed anymore. But he still lies, for a few minutes each morning, under that blanket, on that couch, with the daughter of Reba.
Spot, Reba's son, became an Field Champion at two years of age, running in All Age stakes. He has multiple placements in NGSPA hour championships, both Shooting Dog and All Age. He is home on vacation right now, a big oaf that lies on my bed and takes up the whole thing. Whitey and Spot are my hunting companions. We harvest many sharptail, rooster pheasants, some huns every year.
I would not sell a field trial dog to just anyone. They need training and one needs to know how to handle them. They are wonderful hunting companions. Full choke noses and manners to go with. But in my book, in my house, in my son's life and mine, they are quite a bit more.
Last edited by Wagonmaster on Sun Dec 17, 2006 7:19 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Vizsla Vince
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Wagonmaster
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It is as true as I can make it.
You can ask my son.
Only not right now. He loves to play video games, and "toasted" one of the two drives in my RAID 0 (striped) array at home. So the computer is out for the duration until I put in new drives and reinstall all the software. He is getting all the parts to put together his own for Christmas so maybe I can get him to do something when it is completed.
He does not like to write. But maybe some time I can get him to dictate what he thinks of Reba and put it down in writing on the board.
Dogs are something special, absolutely no question.
I have occasionally thought about putting the Reba daughter, my hunting dog, through therapy training. Ask your wife what it involves for me would you?
You can ask my son.
Only not right now. He loves to play video games, and "toasted" one of the two drives in my RAID 0 (striped) array at home. So the computer is out for the duration until I put in new drives and reinstall all the software. He is getting all the parts to put together his own for Christmas so maybe I can get him to do something when it is completed.
He does not like to write. But maybe some time I can get him to dictate what he thinks of Reba and put it down in writing on the board.
Dogs are something special, absolutely no question.
I have occasionally thought about putting the Reba daughter, my hunting dog, through therapy training. Ask your wife what it involves for me would you?
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Wagonmaster
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Nor did mine until Reba. My wife understood how important she became to my son, and that was all she needed to know.
My wife's mother is a German war bride. She was quite frightened of dogs until she got used to Reba. In post-war Germany dogs ran loose in packs and were dangerous, not to mention the fact that they were used by the Hitler government as weapons and that her father was a hunter and taught her that the dogs were not to be played with. She has loosened up quite a bit, and she pets the dogs when she comes to our house now.
My wife's mother is a German war bride. She was quite frightened of dogs until she got used to Reba. In post-war Germany dogs ran loose in packs and were dangerous, not to mention the fact that they were used by the Hitler government as weapons and that her father was a hunter and taught her that the dogs were not to be played with. She has loosened up quite a bit, and she pets the dogs when she comes to our house now.
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original mngsp
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Hotpepper
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John
What a wonderful story.
Pepper
What a wonderful story.
Pepper
2009 NGSPA National Champion R/U
OFA Good 06/09
3 years of Age
http://www.perfectpedigrees.com/4genview.php?id=2071
Jeremiah 29:11
God says He has Plans for Me
OFA Good 06/09
3 years of Age
http://www.perfectpedigrees.com/4genview.php?id=2071
Jeremiah 29:11
God says He has Plans for Me
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Wagonmaster
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scott townsend
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Great story John
John ,I have several young GSP's that are out of (Timmy) RB Rythym and Blues and an M GO Blue female that are showing great promise.
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Wagonmaster
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Wagonmaster
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Someone posted a thread on the shorthairs.net board which caused me to look back at this thread.
I was out of town this past weekend, it was a difficult and exhausting trip, and returned home late last night to two things which only those who have read this thread and know animals could understand. One was the sight of my large, now 18 year old son, down on the carpet growling at and playing with Whitey, daughter of Reba. She was playing right back; Steven was just another littermate. The other was the result of Steven's ACT tests. He did very well, and among other things was in the 99th percentile in science. He is self-motivated, this is finals week and he is studying his tail off, and he is just a delightful person to be with.
There are many people who deserve thanks, my patient wife, Steven's teachers at school, a wonderful school psychologist who, when Reba was terminally ill arranged to take Steven and Reba on a dog walk for charity through one of our local parks, something Steven has never forgotten. And there was Reba, who gave my son her love and care, and a deep abiding love for animals.
I was out of town this past weekend, it was a difficult and exhausting trip, and returned home late last night to two things which only those who have read this thread and know animals could understand. One was the sight of my large, now 18 year old son, down on the carpet growling at and playing with Whitey, daughter of Reba. She was playing right back; Steven was just another littermate. The other was the result of Steven's ACT tests. He did very well, and among other things was in the 99th percentile in science. He is self-motivated, this is finals week and he is studying his tail off, and he is just a delightful person to be with.
There are many people who deserve thanks, my patient wife, Steven's teachers at school, a wonderful school psychologist who, when Reba was terminally ill arranged to take Steven and Reba on a dog walk for charity through one of our local parks, something Steven has never forgotten. And there was Reba, who gave my son her love and care, and a deep abiding love for animals.
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gar-dog
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There is a great book by an autistic woman, Temple Grandin, called "Thinking in Pictures" I believe. She has degrees in animal husbandry of some sort, and as an autistic person is able to connect with animals in a certain, special way. It is a great read for any NT (normal thinker) to try to get some insight into the minds of people on the autistic spectrum.
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Wagonmaster
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Richard *UT*
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Outstanding! What a great thread. Thanks a ton Jon for sharing this special part of your life.
Words that soak into your ears are whispered...not yelled
http://www.perfectpedigrees.com/4genview.php?id=1618
http://www.perfectpedigrees.com/4genview.php?id=1618