Three Special Dogs - And How I `Met' Them

It seemed like such a routine assignment. Peruse about two dozen entries in three Delta Society's Service Animal Awards categories and determine which were best.

Wow, what a misread! Instead this exercise in doggy dynamics evolved into one of the most enjoyable and riveting explorations of the human-animal companion bond that I've ever been associated with.

Each entry contained a nomination letter from the applicant and a couple of others from friends, relatives and professionals, acknowledging the dog's assistance role.

Tonight, three winners in the mobility, hearing and guide categories will receive their awards at a gala fund-raiser, A'Paws!! A'Paws!!, in New York City's Manhattan Center.

One of those is Kathy Keck of Vashon Island and her guide dog Moya, a Labrador retriever.

Diagnosed in 1981 with multiple sclerosis, Keck married and moved to her husband's home on Vashon Island. But quickly, she found the idyllic lifestyle change from bustling Seattle challenging and frightening.

Gradually, she became reclusive, but in 1993 all that began to change when she applied to Guide Dogs for the Blind Inc., in San Rafael, Calif., for a dog. A year later, Moya, came into her life.

Kathy's husband, however, disliked dogs, which created an enormous strain on the marriage. While one relationship suffered, another - between Moya and Kathy - blossomed. The dog "reawakened Kathy's spirit and her infectious charm, buoyed by her new-found confidence to bring smiles to everyone she met," says L.P. Ingrassia, editor of the Clam Cove Report on Vashon, .

Moya has become a safety valve for Kathy, helping her navigate a three-quarter mile walk along a narrow, curvy country lane to the Vashon bus stop, ride the ferry and commute to her downtown Seattle office, where Kathy, a counselor therapist, is enjoying a rewarding new life.

P.S.: "I credit Moya for my healing process," says Kathy, who has dealt with vision loss, serious depression and mood swings since being diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. And, oh, yes, her husband has fallen hopelessly in love with the "unusually cute" pooch.

Before an accident left Mark Carnevale of Scotia, N.Y., paralyzed, he and Luna, an Australian shepherd, competed for two years in obedience and herding. "She excelled in obedience and won a ribbon in her first herding trial."

But a twist of fate - Carnevale fell, breaking his neck and suffering a paralyzing spinal-cord injury - suddenly transformed this energetic young dog's role from ring and field teammate to his master's arms and legs.

During six months of surgery, recovery and therapy for Carnevale, his wife, Serena, brought Luna to visit. "Those visits always invigorated me physically and lifted my spirits," says Carnevale.

In the months that followed his return home to recuperate, Carnevale discovered that a member of his herding club was a certified service-dog trainer. She assured Carnevale Luna possessed the smarts to become an excellent service assistant, and agreed to train the dog.

It wasn't long before Luna learned the word telephone and how to bring it to her master.

The progress was interrupted for several months when Carnevale traveled to the Miami Project to Cure Paralysis for evaluation, surgery and therapy. When he returned home, training began anew, mixed with play and a "lot of love both ways."

Luna breezed through the American Kennel Club's Canine Good Citizen test, exhibiting thatshe was well-mannered and obedient. When Carnevale needed to return to the Miami Project, Luna came along. She accompanied Carnevale and his wife on everyday outings to the market, where she gained experience coping with new challenges in varied settings.

At therapy, she would bring Carnevale's shoes, backpack, belly pouch and other items, when needed, and despite her size, she mustered up enough strength to pull Carnevale's wheelchair when needed.

She would wait nearby and sometimes open the zipper pocket of the backpack to get her tennis ball, which she would bring to patients awaiting therapy, for a little exercise. "These people would smile and gladly interact with her," says Carnevale.

Luna's "loyalty, dedication and daily companionship," concludes Carnevale, "is perhaps the most important gift I've had to help me deal with my disability."

Harry's story is a rags-to-riches one. On death's doorstep at the Jackson County Animal Shelter in Phoenix, Ore., near Medford, this "Scottish cockapoo" is the ears of Barbara Measell of Hesperia, Calif.

A graduate of Dogs for the Deaf in Central Point, Ore., Harry was "one of the most pitiful looking animals" Lori Ramey, director of training, had ever seen.

Looking in his kennel run, Ramey recalls, "You literally could not tell which end was tail and which was nose. This dog was standing there motionless . . . I'm not sure why, pity I suppose, but something made me look down at the pathetic creature, and I decided to take him out of the kennel.

"Low and behold, once out of the kennel, I could see a little pep in his step and he seemed like a very spunky, sweet dog under all of the filthy matted hair. His hair was a good six inches long, dirty and completely matted to the skin. Underneath was a heart of gold.

"I wish I could say that he was a smart as he was sweet, but that would be dishonest. He had a very difficult time grasping the concept of work. Try as he may, he just couldn't figure it out at first. But to his credit, he would never stop trying to get it. The desire was so strong, that I just couldn't give up on him.

"He would watch me and listen to me as if to say, `I don't understand, but please explain it again.' So I did and I have never felt as much satisfaction as I did that day that he finally got it."

But more frustration was ahead. Harry's first home in Iowa didn't work out, since the recipient had difficulty grasping the training concept. Eventually, both owner and dog became confused and frustrated, and Harry was returned to Dogs for the Deaf.

The dog was an emotional wreck, but soon his confidence was restored by Ramey and other trainers. He joined Measell's household last October and since a deep bonding has been cemented. "He is in need of me as much as I am in need of him," says Measell. "Harry's presence in my life surpasses all human capacity."