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These tips are to help new Handlers or want to be handlers (because they need it). List below.
Make Sure You Can Handle It (Like any pet, a service dog is a big responsibility. Be sure your family can handle the financial, emotional and physical responsibilities of having a service dog in your lives.)
Research the Agency Thoroughly ( Look into whether or not the agency youâre working with is a member of an organization such as Assistance Dogs International. In addition, look into the agencyâs standing with the IRS and Better Business Bureau.)
Always Get Referrals ( Ask the agency if it can provide you with some of its existing customers for referrals. If itâs reluctant or unwilling to do so, itâs a sign that the agency isnât all it claims to be.)
Ask About the Breed of Dog ( Dog breeds with calm, quiet personalities such as Labradors or retrievers {these are common breeds but GSD are service dogs too} tend to make the most successful service dogs. Ask the agency if it can provide you with information about the breed of dog.)
Remember That Dogs Will Attract Attention (Taking a service dog out in public almost certainly will draw a lot of attention from other people, so be prepared to answer questions about your service dog. Also, be aware that people will want to interact (this is a COMMON issue) with you and the dog)
Service Dogs Are Here to Work ( Having a service dog is NOT like having a regular pet. Service dogs are trained to help you with everyday tasks and provide support, so think carefully about whether or not a service dog would be right for your situation.)
These should be helpful and informative to those of you who have a disability and considering getting a service dog or training one yourself is optional instead of agency.Â
âWhy are we here?â Winter asks, emboldened by the fact that his Hander hasnât reprimanded him for asking numerous questions before.
âTo get you clothing,â his Handler says, holding a shirt up to Winterâs chest. His Handler stares at him for a moment, making Winter want to fidget (he doesnât), before shaking his head. âNot your colour.â
Winter nods, not sure what that means but not really caring either, and follows his Handler through the shop.
âYou need new clothing, since your old stuff isnât in the-the best shape, and my clothing doesnât really fit you.â
Winter looks down at his shirt. Itâs tight on him, enough that when his Handler saw him in it, his Handlerâs eyes went wide and his face heated up to a bright pink, but it covers him. Winter likes the pressure of the shirt, too. Itâs reassuring â comforting, even.
âIs there anything you want specifically? Like a style, or a colour, orâŠâ his Handler falls silent, then gestures toward the entirety of the store, âAnything? I know there isnât a-a wide selection, but the clothingâs good! It lasts.â
Winter nods, scanning the store. Heâs already done a quick perimeter check, and looks over whoever enters the store when they enter, but it never hurts to be safe, especially with a Handler as new as his. It isnât bad, his Handlerâs newness to this. Itâs actually nice, seeing as how his Handler hasnât taken advantage of the power to punish him.
But danger comes with it as well, so Winter needs to compensate for the danger.
Winter looks back to his Handler, who stares up at him, and says, voice quiet, âI like blue.â
âGreat!â His Handler smiles and starts to walk through the store, stopping occasionally to look through a rack. Winter follows him.
His Handler talks as they walk, saying, âI started coming here a year ago. One of my friends, Jan, pointed it out. She doesnât need to shop here, she can go to the more expensive places, but she likes the people, and she pays a lot more than the owners ask for, so it all works out.â
âWhere is she?â
âJan? Sheâs at her parentsâ home right now. Itâs summer break, so everyone is home. Rhodey and Carol are still deployed, though, so technically they arenât.â
âAnd you?â
His Handlerâs face goes blank, making Winterâs heart slow. He spoke out of line, he shouldnât have done, that, and now heâll be punished and-
âI donât stay with my parents. Not anymore.â
Winter stares at his Handler. Lips pinched, eyes oddly calm, and fingers tapping a beat into his hip, his Handler is uncomfortable. Winter says, âI⊠Iâm sorry.â
âHmm?â His Handler looks up to Winter, eyes wide, and shakes his head, âOh, no. Itâs fine. Itâs⊠itâs all fine. Just family problems, you know? No, you wouldnât, I⊠yeah.â His Handler sighs, looking back to the shirts, and says, âYouâre quiet a lot more now, arenât you? You asked a lot of questions when you first woke up, but now you stay pretty silent.â
âSorry.â
âYou donât need to apologize. You donât have to talk if you donât want to.â
Winter frowns at that, but says nothing against his Handler. His Handler smiles, fake brightness shining, and looks around himself. They start walking again, his Handler picking up shirts and pairs of pants.
Winter stays close, until his Handler holds out a pile of clothing and says, âLook these over. The owners donât let you try stuff on here, but you can check it all, make sure theyâre close to what you want, and-and all that.â
He nods, taking the clothing, and starts looking through it all. His Handler picked out good clothing. The shirts look like theyâll fit, and he can always fix them if they donât. He looks up to his Handler and says, âTheyâre good.â
His Handler smiles. Itâs unnerving, how much his Handler smiles. Not in a bad way, but a way he isnât used to. His Handler does a lot of things he isnât used to. He smiles, laughs, cooks, and talks. He talks a lot. Winterâs growing to like the talk, though. It means his Handler is fine.
âAlright?â
Winter blinks, then looks down to his feet. No. Oh no. He didnât listen. He should have been listening, but no. He wasnât. He was being stupid and useless and-
âAre you okay, Winter?â His Handler asks, reaching out but not quite touching Winterâs elbow.
He gives a jerky nod, not liking the worry in his Handlerâs eyes. His Handler asks, âDo you want to leave? We can get the clothing another time.â
No. No. He canât be more of a burden. He canât make this Handler, the kind, smiling, laughing Handler, want to get rid of him. âIâm fine.â
His Handler raises a brow. âI can tell when someoneâs freaking out. I do that enough myself to see it.â
âIâm fine.â
âWinter. Itâs okay if you arenât. I donât know what got you half-dead and unconscious underneath a park bench, but Iâd be freaking out afterwards too. Iâll go buy this stuff, mostly because you need clothing that isnât bloody and torn, and you can go outside and get some air.â
Winter blinks quickly. He glances at the door, then at his Handler, then to the ground again. He doesnât want to leave his Handler, so he says, âI canât.â
âWhy not?â
Winter doesnât know how to answer that. This is something thatâs always been. He stays with the Handler when theyâre in an unfamiliar, possibly threatening area, and only leaves in safe areas that heâs completed a perimeter on.
âAlright.â His Handler smiles again, reassuring and soft, âCome with me.â
Winter nods, exhaling in relief, and follows his Handler to the cash register. The woman there nods at them, takes the clothing, and starts to ring it up. Winter watches her, taking in the stooped posture, wrinkles around her eyes, and calloused hands. Not a threat.
His Handler glances up to him occasionally, offering a smile that makes the stone in Winterâs gut heavier and heavier with⊠he isnât sure with what. The woman finishes ringing them up, slides the clothing into a bag, and hands it to his Handler, who takes it and says, âThank you.â
The woman nods, looks at Winter, who doesnât meet her gaze, and says, âHave a nice day.â
He nods, and his Handler says, âYou too!â
The woman looks back to her work, and Winter follows his Handler from the store. The door rings as it shuts behind them, and Winter sucks in the fresh air. âFreshâ meaning âNot stale.â
His Handler nods, and says, âI get it. Sometimes thereâs just too much, you know?â
He nods, and his Handler says, âYou hungry? We can get food, if you want.â
âSure,â Winter says, voice soft and scratchy. His Handler nods, and they walk down the street. Winter walks close to his Handler, hand brushing against his Handlerâs elbow as they move. He puts some space between them, not wanting to annoy his Handler.
They pass several pairs and groups of people, who chat to each other, pausing in their talking to watch Winter and his Handler as they walk. Winter doesnât mention the people, but his Handler looks up at Winter and asks, âDo people stare at you a lot?â
Winter furrows his brows. âWhat do you mean?â
âYou know,â his Handler gestures toward Winterâs torso, face turning pink, âCause youâre, you know.â
Winter stares at his Handler, thoroughly confused, while his Handler turns to stare straight ahead, face pink and ears starting to match. Winter doesnât say anything, but he stops putting space between himself and his Handler, letting himself enjoy the closeness.