Finding Harmony
The remarkable dog that helped a family through the darkest of times
SALLY HYDER
Copyright
© Sally Hyder 2011
Sally Hyder asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 9780007393589
Ebook Edition © 2011 ISBN: 9780007393596
Version 2019-07-30
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To Andrew, without whom no mountains would have been climbed and to Peter, Clara and Melissa who have had their own mountains to climb. And of course to Harmony, who has opened doors to independence.
I love you.
Thank you.
Contents
Copyright
Prologue
Chapter 1 - In the Beginning
Chapter 2 - Surprise on Everest
Chapter 3 - The Axe Falls
Chapter 4 - Bumpy Road
Chapter 5 - Gypsy Life
Chapter 6 - Going Home
Chapter 7 - Black Days
Chapter 8 - Fighting for Melissa
Chapter 9 - Night Falls
Chapter 10 - Hope Dawns
Chapter 11 - Starting a New Adventure
Chapter 12 - Love at Second Sight
Chapter 13 - The Pound that Changes Lives
Chapter 14 - Mayhem and Miracles
Chapter 15 - An Expanding World
Chapter 16 - Double Trouble
Chapter 17 - Venturing Forth
Chapter 18 - By Royal Invitation
Chapter 19 - Tasting Freedom
Chapter 20 - Finishing on a High
Acknowledgements
I’ve fallen in love with Elmo – at least I think I have. I’ve come to meet the new batch of dogs; they’re only 12 months old. It’s one of those bright January days and the barn is flush with sunlight. Here come Caesar and Elmo, old hands looking for new partners, and Headley, a chocolate Labrador who likes to watch me very carefully with his enormous brown eyes. I’m humbled by his trust. Then there are the blondes: Foster, who doesn’t like ‘boarding school’ (as I have dubbed the advance training), still goes home to a foster family at night. Harry and Henry who I can’t tell apart (Harry, I think, has the edge) are full of beans while Harmony is smaller and paler than the rest, with schoolgirl freckles on her face.
Having worked on the simplest tasks such as retrieving dropped items or just walking around without knocking into each other, we’re now practising the supermarket checkout sequence. The idea is for your dog to retrieve cans and boxes from the shelves, put them in your basket and then pass your purse to the checkout person. It’s complicated: already I’ve run over a couple of paws with my wheelchair. There was an outburst of yelps.
‘Sorry!’ I exclaimed, mortified.
‘Don’t worry,’ said the dog trainers, who have the patience of saints.
They check the dogs’ paws, reassuring me. We reach the checkout counter in the corner of the barn – it looks exactly like the real thing.
‘Go through,’ I say, rehearsing the commands. ‘Back, back, back!’
After releasing another foot of lead, I wait for Elmo to go backwards, facing me, past the counter. Hand high, I instruct him to take my purse and he grips it between his teeth.
‘Up table, give it to the lady!’ I tell him.
He puts his front paws on the table and hands it over to Claire, who is playing the checkout girl.
‘Off!’ I say, then again, ‘Up table, get the purse. Bring it here!’
Elmo follows the commands with immense patience but I feel frazzled. This is so complicated: will I ever get it right? Will the trainers think I’m useless and unable to manage a dog?
‘Good dog,’ I tell him. I reach into the treat bag and find a bit of sausage. Elmo gently takes it from me, wagging his tail. In fact, the dogs wag their tails the whole time as if they’re happy to be working. I pat his coat and I’m reminded not to stroke the top of his head. (How would you like it if a stranger patted the top of your head?)
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to discover how to get a dog to work for you – rewards. As Canine Partners (a disability charity now in its twentieth year that uses specially trained dogs to assist people in their everyday lives) will tell you, there are lots of reasons why dogs won’t work for you: too tired, hungry, hot, bored … But there are two reasons why they want to do so: rewards and fun. My reward bag is full of chopped cheese, sausage, broccoli and carrot (yes, dogs eat vegetables too!). Every time I stick my hand in, I think, yuck! Do I really have to live with a bag of mushy treats attached to me forever?
‘Keep rewarding,’ says Claire, the trainer. ‘Turn off your chair whenever you’re stationary.’
So many things to remember: the last time I was here, I worked with Claire’s dog, Doyle. Doyle is a Standard Poodle Retriever Cross (or ‘Goldiepoo’, as they are sometimes called). He works as a demo dog all the time. Here we go again, I could see him thinking as I dropped my purse on the floor. Yeah, yeah, I know I have to pick it up! He looked at me, big sigh, and then picked it up. I worked with Doyle after teaming up with Guy, a high-spirited Flat Coat. After trying to manage Guy, I felt exhausted – Doyle was a dream in comparison.
At lunch, Claire asks: ‘Do you have a preference?’
‘Elmo and Headley,’ I reply, without hesitation.
‘What about Harmony?’
‘She’s too quiet,’ I insist. ‘Too docile – boring, even: I want a dog with real character.’
In the afternoon we’re sent out to exercise the dogs, one at a time, in a field at the back. They tear across the frozen ground. I wrap my scarf around my neck and throw the ball (supplied by a local tennis club) for Foster. He brings it back and drops it in my lap. Ears cocked, he stares at me. Come on lady, what are you waiting for? I throw the ball again and again and again. All of a sudden, I realise