IDI has been graduating perfectly matched Independence Teams since 1984, so we have many wonderful, heartwarming stories to share. What makes our work so rewarding is that we often see miracles happen when we least expect them--miracles that defy doctors’ prognoses Here are just a few of our favorite success stories: Chris has Duchenne’s Muscular Dystrophy. We first met him when he was 13 years old, and at that time he was able to push his manual wheelchair only for short distances. His doctors had recommended that Chris switch to an electric wheelchair, but his parents knew that would be the beginning of the end; the little muscle tone remaining in Chris’s hands, arms, and upper body would dwindle and disappear once he was in the power chair. We selected a collie-mix named Tasha to become Chris’s partner-in-living. But when Chris first came to IDI, his left hand was too weak to grasp the pulling handle on Tasha’s harness for more than five or ten minutes. We designed a special leather loop that went around the back of Chris’s hand so that the main pressure was exerted on the wrist and the back of the hand. In addition, the muscles in Chris’s upper body were so weak that if he tilted right or left or forward while sitting in his chair, he could not straighten himself into an upright sitting position without the assistance of his parents; the doctor’s prognosis was that Chris would need to have Harrington rods inserted along both sides of his spine. Chris’s progress was spectacular! In just a few months he was able to discard his special leather loop and had developed sufficient strength in his left hand to hold onto the pulling handle on the harness. And his parents told us that Chris’s pulmonary function studies had greatly improved, thanks to Tasha. Within two years, Chris’s formerly weak left hand had become so strong that he asked to return to IDI and retrain Tasha to work on and thus strengthen his right side! When he came back to the school, we were delighted to see that working with and caring for Tasha every day had produced another fringe benefit for Chris: The daily physical "therapy" had strengthened his back muscles so much that when he held harness and gave the forward command, there was no falling over to the right or left; Chris sat sitting completely upright in his chair. The insertion of Harrington rods had become completely unnecessary! Unfortunately, dogs do not live as long as people do. To everyone’s sorrow, Tasha developed a fast-moving form of mammary cancer and died very quickly. But Chris was determined to carry on Tasha’s legacy and continue with the tremendous progress he had made. So he returned to Independence Dogs in 1994 and was joined with Velcro, a Doberman-mix who was aptly named for his love of sticking to people. Though Chris missed Tasha deeply, the two took to each other immediately and began the process of building a new partnership. Today Chris and Velcro work smoothly together as partners-in-living, attending college and sticking very close. Top of Page Matt P. A former March of Dimes poster child, Matt first came to IDI back in 1989, when he was 10. Born with TAR Syndrome, Matt had no arms or knee joints. If he fell, he couldn’t get back up on his feet without assistance; once while he was playing alone, he waited 30 minutes for someone to come and help him. Matt needed a dog to give him the independence and confidence he needed to go through a normal day without assistance.
Because Matt was not expected to grow, we selected a collie-mix to be his partner. Ginger was trained to stand and brace while Matt pressed his back against her shoulder and worked his way back up into a standing position. She also learned to help Matt up curbs and stairs, turn lights on and off, push elevator buttons, and carry Matt’s school books and supplies home in her saddle bags. At last, Matt could go to school like everyone else and not have to depend on anyone for help. In Matt’s words, Ginger had become his arms. To everyone’s surprise, Matt defied his doctor’s prognosis and did grow over the next three years--enough to outgrow Ginger! So Matt came back to IDI for a bittersweet pairing with another, larger dog. Rocky, a purebred Golden Retriever, was selected for his size, temperament, and ability to better accommodate Matt’s taller and heavier stature. In 1991 Matt graduated again, this time at the age of 13. Today Matt is 20. About two years ago, his mother sent us a copy of his high school graduation picture, and told us in her letter that Matt and Rocky had just gone to the senior prom with Matt’s date. Matt is a Junior at nearby University of Delaware. He plans to become an attorney--and we all know who will happily carry his law books. Top of Page Say Hello to Pam Pam came to us at the age of 16. A victim of the debilitative effects of muscular dystrophy, Pam’s prognosis was grim. She was walking haltingly with a cane about half the time, and in her manual wheelchair the rest. Her doctors said that within a year, Pam would be in that wheelchair all the time. Within two years, she’d be in an electric wheelchair. And within in three years, they predicted, she would be dead.
Being unwilling accept that bleak prognosis, her mother Sue grasped at a straw thrown less than hopefully by one of Pam’s more progressive doctors and brought her daughter to IDI. There Pam was paired with a lovable black Labrador Retriever named Wuppy, who had been trained at IDI to be both a walker and a wheelchair dog. When the team graduated, Wuppy was given one of IDI’s specially designed harnesses that allowed her to support Pam, enabling Pam to walk without the cane. Besides helping Pam up and down stairs, over curbs, and out of chairs and cars, Wuppy could open doors for her, bring her the telephone receiver, carry her packages and books--and, of course, offer 24-hour companionship and security. When Pam tired and had to return to her wheelchair for a few hours, Wuppy--being a switch-hitter--assumed all the tasks expected of a wheelchair dog, taking her wherever she wanted to go. That was five years ago, and obviously Pam is still alive. In fact, she graduated from high school, and the last we heard, she had just finished walking through the Loray Caverns with Wuppy. She’s walking so well, in fact, that believe it or not, some people at Pam’s high school were trying to deny Wuppy access; they don’t believe Pam really needs a service dog! That’s how far Pam has come in her work with Wuppy, and we believe that’s a great testament to the power of an Independence Dog. In a backwards kind of way, we even take it as a compliment. Pam’s doctors had delivered a grim prognosis--a prognosis that someone else might have accepted as inevitable. Those doctors obviously didn’t know that a 90-pound miracle of unconditional love and support could so markedly improve the quality and quantity of Pam’s life. Top of Page |
