The Magic of a Dog :: Personal Narrative Essays

The Magic of a Dog I knew he was gone the moment I awoke on Christmas morning. While other families someplace laughed, smiled, and opened presents, I could only stare listlessly at my let presents, and those placed in the shopping bag in the corner, never to be opened. With the death of my beloved golden retriever, Kennedy, a part of me had also died. For Kennedy was no ordinary dog. I was born with a disability. Although I have through with(p) intensive physical therapy since I was s plaza and have made strong improvements over the years, I find it difficult to do some things which close people take for granted. Until I was eleven, I needed a adjutant bird at school. I could not go shopping by myself, or stay at home alone for more than a few minutes. My disability also resulted in social isolation from others my age numerous kids and adults were ill at ease around me. Even my friends were involved with activities that I couldnt keep up with, and I was left behind. I t was with the hope of increased assumption that I applied for a service dog from eye tooth Companions for Independence. Canine Companions (CCI) has been cookery dogs to assist people with disabilities other than blindness since 1975. Obeying about 70 commands, CCI service dogs retrieve dropped items, open doors, turn lights on and off, pull wheelchairs, and more. after submitting an application to CCI, I was interviewed and scheduled to attend a training course of instruction in December, at the regional center near Columbus, Ohio. CCIs rigorous two-week training program is designed to teach dog training and leadership skills tour matching each participant with a loving, loyal companion and helper. For the first off two days each person works with all the dogs on the third day everyone receives their Canine Companion. The remainder of the two weeks is spent skill commands and dog handling skills at the training center and in humankind places, with your new dog. In this way, Kennedy came into my life. He brought me independence of the kind I had never known before. For the first time, I could move around the school without an aide following me, because he pulled my wheelchair and carried books in his backpack. I could shop at the mall by myself or with friends, and Kennedy would put his paws up on high counters to conciliate for things I bought.