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Meet Our TeamsA Good Dog Team consists of a dog and handler who have been certified to participate in animal assisted therapy through our exclusive training course. These teams volunteer in numerous areas of our partner facilities and programs.Good Dog Teams always have exciting and inspirational stories to share from their volunteer experiences. Every month we feature one of our teams in order to highlight their amazing accounts of the life-changing power of animal assisted therapy. The following article is the personal story of Volunteer Carol Barnette and her dog, YoYo. It was first published in Just Frenchies Magazine, Edition 2.3 Spring 2005. Special thanks to Just Frenchies Magazine and Carol for sharing it with us. There's Something About YoyoDoes a little Frenchie who didn't learn to sit until she was almost seven have what it takes to become a therapy dog? The first time I took Yoyo to a vet (my regular vet was not available) he looked at me and said, "Um, is she a little...um...slow?" He wasn't talking about how she was moving. Other folks have made similar comments, from "She very sweet, but is she really all there?" to "Does she have something missing?" When we wanted her NOT to do something in particular, like not eat my sister Mary's plastic file-cabinet drawer handle, words had no impact on her. It was required that one of us get up and physically remove her. A few seconds later, tap, tap, tap, right back to the file cabinet. Then we would say what was probably the most common statement made about Yoyo-"She just doesn't get it." She's not spiteful or even particularly stubborn, not malicious, and certainly not, as one person tried to peg her, "devious." Not a mean bone in her 20-pound body. But there is something...well...different, about Yoyo.
When I went to northern Minnesota in 2003 to the first FrenchieFun Camp (a brilliant idea of Kathy Dannel Vitcak's, who has the space, the humor, and the good will necessary for such an undertaking-not to mention the support of her husband, Steve, who makes a mean hamburger on the grill), Charlotte Creeley was doing CGC (Canine Good Citizen) training and testing, often a prerequisite for admittance to a therapy dog class. My other Frenchie, Lucy, already had her CGC, and I planned on having her certified as a therapy dog that fall. Charlotte thought Yoyo would make a wonderful therapy dog, too, so we joined her class. Yoyo could have cared less about performing or executing commands. She heard "look at the sky" when I said "come," would turn around when I said "sit," and would stare at me like I was from another universe when I said "down." Charlotte was very patient, and she did teach her to sit that summer. But Yoyo had no clue what the other commands meant. Or did she? Yoyo surprised me a little by doing short "stays" in one of the classes. The other Frenchie owners were not that amazed, really, saying that Frenchies do just fine with that command because they're content to be where they are, and don't particularly want to go anywhere else. For the longer stay exercise, I had her sit, then stay, and facing away from her, walked the required 20 feet away, sure she would trot right along after me. But when I turned around, she was in exactly the same place! Wonders! I was so proud. Then I called, "Yoyo, come!" She stayed. "Here, Yoyo, come!" Nope. Don't feel like it, don't know what that word means, looking up at Charlotte like she was saying, "Aren't I especially cute right now?" Out of any other ideas, I fell on the ground, waved my arms and legs in the air and begged, "Help, Yoyo, come! Hurry! Timmy's in the well!" I think when she saw and heard all the commotion I was making, she decided to move. And move she did. Really fast. Faster than even Lassie could have run. And when she reached me, she smothered me with kisses like I had been gone for hours and hours instead of all of 25 seconds. We did a few more exercises, or attempted to, but Yoyo mostly yawned and seemed ready for a nap. At this point, Charlotte looked at me, looked at Yoyo and said, "You know, I don't think Yoyo is really into this. Just leave her alone. Enjoy her and love her." Good advice for any pet owners.  By the next summer, I was looking forward to returning to Kathy's camp. You know that FrenchieFun Camp must be really fantastic when you're able to convince your sister to drive with you more than 1,500 miles with your dogs and hers-my 2 French Bulldogs and 1 Brussels Griffon/Pomeranian/Pug/funny-dog mix, her English Bulldog, and her mastiff mix. Kathy had allowed that the other kinds of dogs could come, as long as each person had a Frenchie, so Mary borrowed Yoyo. A fair exchange, I believe, for using her car.
Lucy and I had been visiting the pediatrics ward of a local hospital for almost a year by then. She seemed so proud and was so serious about her work. She enjoyed the kids, did wonderful tricks for them, snuggled up and took naps with them, but it was still a job for her, albeit one she loved dearly. I still believed Yoyo would make a good therapy dog, and Mary and I both thought that for her it would not be work, but a natural extension of her wonderful, quirky, loving personality. And whatever doubts I may have had in terms of her enjoying it or wanting to participate were put to rest when we met six-year-old Izy at camp. Those two developed a close and gentle bond in the short week we were there. Every night by the campfire, Izy would get in a chair, and I would put Yoyo in her lap. Yoyo kissed her. Yoyo purred (well, I call it purring, some people call it snorting). And sometimes, if the adults stayed up way past dark, Yoyo and Izy would both fall asleep. Toward the end of our stay, Kathy had a birthday, and, of course, we had ice cream. Yoyo made a beeline for Izy as soon as she saw the plates come cut. I went to get some drinks, and when I returned, I heard Izy saying, "One bite for Yoyo, and one for me, one for Yoyo, one for me," as she spoon-fed her new friend.  After returning home, I figured I owed Yoyo another chance at honing her skills so that I could share her with people who might benefit from her charm. So I asked Sue Nastasi if she would be willing to evaluate Yoyo as a possible therapy dog candidate. Sue's a terrific trainer with the Good Dog Foundation and had certified Lucy. Good Dog trains dogs and, just as importantly, the people who live with them, to become therapy teams. In a ten-week course that includes basic training, both person and dog practice role-playing for different situations that might come up, say, greeting someone in a wheelchair, maneuvering around IV-poles, being calm around crutches, meeting someone with cerebral palsy, who may not have total control over arm movements when petting the dog, possibly someone blind, who might need and want to feel the dog's face more actively and completely than a seeing person. You practice with children, with adults, and you practice how to introduce yourself and your dog as a team, so that people feel comfortable around you both. Good Dog provides all the help and support you want, and goes with you on your first visit, as well as on additional visits if you need.
The first thing Sue said when she saw Yoyo was, "Aww, what a face!" Yoyo walked up to her, looked right into her eyes, and Sue was hooked. Because Yoyo was so gentle, Sue wanted to put her right into therapy classes, but for that she'd have to know those basic commands. Sue said, "Sit, Yoyo." Yoyo sat. Sue said, "She knows 'down,' right?" Nope, said I. Sue took out a piece of cooked chicken, held it under Yoyo's nose, and Yoyo stuck her butt in the air then lay down, smooth as could be. Sue said, "Sure, she knows!" I said that was the first time she'd ever done that. So Sue said we'd have a month to practice before class started and that she just knew Yoyo would do fine. I had a few niggling doubts, much as I loved Yoyo and thought she'd do just beautifully with people, that we'd be able to conquer the preliminary requirements. Sue never did doubt for a second. We went to classes for a month. Having put Lucy through the same process, I knew that not all dogs passed. So I was a little nervous. We HAD been practicing, but this was Yoyo, after all, and she did live in her special Yoyo world. As we all know, some things just happen when they're supposed to. The year before, I had agreed with Charlotte that Yoyo should not be pushed. I still agree with her. Yoyo was not ready or all that interested at the time. But for whatever reason, Yoyo had since changed her mind. And, contrary to some people's opinions, she was NOT slow, thank you very much, she just lived by her Yoyo rules, which, in her opinion, the humans did not always quite "get." In our classes with Good Dog, Yoyo sat. Yoyo stayed. Yoyo came. Yoyo walked well on the leash. When Sue said, "Okay, everyone, put your dogs in a down position." I swallowed, then said, "Yoyo, down." She stared at me. Uh-oh. Fortunately, Sue said, "This time, try a treat, but by next week, she'll need to do it without one." So I got out my cooked chicken (Yoyo had at least taught me to get that much) and down she went.  We rode in the elevator, Yoyo sat. A young boy came to the class to help by pretending to need a wheelchair. Yoyo sat in his lap and almost fell asleep she was so comfortable. She didn't wiggle or squirm, just leaned against him and relaxed. If it were possible, she would have been quietly humming. Sue popped a balloon. Yoyo looked in the general direction of the noise (probably thinking, Why DO these humans do such odd things for no reason?) but did not startle or bolt one bit. The trainers dropped treats on the floor and the dogs were told to leave it. (Yoyo looked really bewildered by that one!) We practiced walking around IV-poles, mingling with dogs of all different sizes, meeting someone on crutches, shaking hands with someone while our dog sat by our sides, continuing to sit while that person reached over and petted our dogs. And the next week, Yoyo did a beautiful down, no chicken. Sue looked over and said, "Told she could do it."
On graduation day, Yoyo would occasionally look up at me as if to say, "Hey. What were worried about? Don't you remember how I practiced at camp?" I cannot praise Good Dog enough, and Sue Nastasi, in particular, for having faith in my Yoyo, for seeing the "genius" in a little dog that had once been pegged as "slow." Now, we just have to do the easy part-go visit the people. Yoyo and I hope to be accepted as a therapy dog team at Jewish Home and Hospital Lifecare System in New York, so we can begin our visits. For more informationThe Good Dog Foundation607 Sixth Street Brooklyn, NY 11215 Telephone: 718-788-2988 Toll-Free: 888-859-9992 Fax: 646-786-0986 Home | About Us | News | Volunteer | Donate | For Good Dogs | Contact |
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