Service dogs trained to help disabled vets

From The San Francisco Chronicle:

Abelardo Rosas served two tours in Iraq and one in Afghanistan. He'd been hit by 13 improvised bombs, suffered head trauma and was diagnosed with severe post-traumatic stress disorder.

A couple of months ago, he barely spoke to anyone. He was sullen and surly and not responding to treatment at the PTSD clinic at the Veterans Affairs health center in Menlo Park.

Then he met Vegas (pictured), a sweet, good-natured golden retriever with a shiny coat and sad eyes. Rosas had volunteered to participate in a pilot program - veterans at the clinic would train canines to become assistance dogs to aid disabled veterans, those who had lost limbs or are confined to wheelchairs.

Something about the dog touched Rosas. He'd grown up with dogs; he has seven of his own back in Texas. He's the kind of guy who picks up strays from the side of the road. When he had to take care of Vegas, and learn to train him, his emotions re-emerged.

"He has a constant need for attention," Rosas said of Vegas. "You can't ignore him. All I want to do is hang out with Vegas."

Rosas is one of nine veterans at the clinic who have been learning to train the dogs as part of a program called "Paws for Purple Hearts." The program is the brainchild of Rick Yount, a trainer with the Assistance Dog Institute of Santa Rosa.

Yount has been involved with assistance dog training for years and had recently worked with at-risk youths who were given dogs to train for people with disabilities. He saw stories about veterans with PTSD, and those who have lost limbs. Why not develop a program in which veterans with PTSD would train assistance dogs, he thought? They would benefit from the emotional connection with a kind and loving animal while providing for veterans who need the assistance of a dog.

Yount proposed the idea to the Veterans Affairs department and eventually worked up a program involving veterans at the Menlo Park PTSD clinic. The program started in July, and so far, nine veterans have worked with the three dogs-in-training, Vegas, Venuto and Verde, who are brothers. Yount trains the veterans, using a combination of lectures and hands-on experience. As the dogs complete their training, they will be handed over to disabled veterans. Each dog needs about 1 1/2 years of training.

Yount said handling and training dogs is valuable in the treatment of PTSD because the animals help the veterans connect with their emotions. The dogs counteract feelings of isolation. They have to take the dogs out into the community, he said, and other people inevitably want to pet the dogs and talk to the person handling them.

"The dog also reinforces the need to assist someone else," he said. "This is important for a lot of veterans because most of them joined the military to help people."

Eventually, Yount said, he hopes to expand the program to other VA clinics.

The veterans spend about 12 hours a day taking care of the dogs and training them in a variety of tasks: how to open doors, turn on lights, pull wheelchairs, pick things up off the ground and serve as a brace for those times when the dog's guardian needs help getting up or back into a wheelchair.

Ryan Briones, who served two tours in Iraq in his four years in the Marines, volunteered for the program after he saw other veterans in the clinic working with them. He found the animals calming in ways that no person or therapy could.

"It's hard to explain, but just petting the dog is soothing," he said. "There's no anger there."

Chuck Marino, who served in Iraq with the Nevada National Guard, said training the dogs has taught him patience. Working with Vento, he would bark out orders to "sit" as if speaking to a stubborn private, and the faster he spoke, the more excited and less obedient Vento became. Yount showed him how to slow down, speak clearly to the dog, and be assertive without being aggressive.

"They're like teenagers," Marino said.

Richard Hagan, 57, of Palo Alto knows about the value of a service dog. He's a veteran of the war in Vietnam, having been a machine-gunner with the 101st Airborne Division and wounded twice. Now he uses a wheelchair because of multiple sclerosis.

He got his dog through a different program a couple of years ago. His dog is a sweet-natured black Labrador named Kovin.

Kovin is never far from Hagan's side. He appears to be a pet, but he's also ready for whatever Hagan needs.

He is also the only dog allowed into the traumatic brain injury clinic at the VA, said Hagan, who likes to take the dog there to provide some help to the injured veterans.

The dog represents some kind of normalcy, Hagan said. The veterans will hold pieces of kibble in their fingers, and Kovin will gently lick and nudge their hands until he gets the treat.

"It's that physical touch that means so much," Hagan said. "Kovin is a good dog, but he's more than just a service dog to me. He means so much more."