Stephanie Detillier
Hanna, a Shetland sheepdog, helps her owner Maryanne Van Buskirk by alerting her to allergens in the air.
May 7, 2009 | 12:00 a.m. CST
Most pets get a treat for simply staying out of the flower bed, or they get rewarded with a brushing after they avoid knocking over their food bowls. But other animals don’t just perform adorable tricks; they execute important tasks that contribute to the lives of their owners and others. They help exercise muscles, put food on the table, act as instruments in the classroom and save lives.
Sara Torres, coordinator of the Columbia Public Schools Science and Health Sciences Department, holds Fluffy ...
Maryanne Van Buskirk has lost count of the times Hanna has saved her life. Before Hanna had been trained as a service dog, she began poking Van Buskirk’s leg inexplicably. Minutes later, Van Buskirk suffered an anaphylactic reaction. She realized then that Hanna could be more than just a pet.
Ann Gafke’s Teacher’s Pet program helped Van Buskirk train Hanna by using scented cards to condition her to recognize the scents that would trigger Van Buskirk’s allergies.
At 8 years old, Hanna can also smell when Van Buskirk’s body chemistry changes. She nudges her master or walks around in circles, which alerts Van Buskirk to offset the reaction with medication. Hanna, a Shetland sheepdog, sniffs people and objects to determine if Van Buskirk can get close.
“It’s opened my world up a lot,” she says. Van Buskirk had been nearly homebound before Hanna, but now, with her dog at her side, Van Buskirk can visit grocery stores, restaurants and doctors’ offices but only on a limited basis.
“I trained therapy dogs for a number of years and thought my bond with dogs couldn’t be any greater,” Van Buskirk says. “I was wrong.”
When Helix celebrates Christmas, it’s the first day in 10 months that she doesn’t have to show up for 8 a.m. and 8 p.m. milkings. During most of her two-months’ vacation, Helix chows down in the wooden barn at Goatsbeard Farm. Since her vacation ended in late February, Helix has been producing a gallon of milk a day, which is used to produce artisan cheeses.
Helix was named after the Helix Nebula, a planetary nebula (a gas cloud in space created as a star dies). She is part Saanen, a Swiss goat breed known for its calm demeanor and white coat. Helix definitely isn’t pushy.
“If we have goats with escaping issues, we’ll find other homes for them,” owner Ken Muno says. “She’s easy to deal with.”
The 2-year-old doesn’t thrust herself to the front of the line to be milked, but she’s never late either.
Fluffy adds a Fear Factor element to Columbia classrooms. Teachers use the rose-haired tarantula to amp up their lessons — even math, where students measure Fluffy’s furry legs and how far she scurries across the floor.
Most students are initially terrified to hold Fluffy, one of the 13 creatures that compose Animal Excursion. The program, which is funded by Columbia Public Schools Foundation, allows trained teachers to borrow animals such as toads, gerbils and cockroaches for a week or longer.
Linda Koenig’s fourth-graders at Blue Ridge Elementary research tarantulas when Fluffy arrives. They know she eats only live crickets and won’t hurt them, but at first their horror-movie imaginations still expect the spider to attack.
Velvet walks gingerly inside the Cedar Creek Therapeutic Riding Center’s outdoor pavilion. The 17-year-old quarter pony still has spunk, but her rider, 12-year-old Joe Reneker, can’t take any sudden moves.
Reneker needs a steady horse because of his low muscle tone brought on by centronuclear myopathy, a type of muscular dystrophy. He uses a wheelchair as do the majority of Velvet’s riders. She gets assigned the stiffest riders because her narrow back makes her easy to straddle. For 7 1/2 hours each week, Velvet provides her clients’ hips with the sensation of walking and their spirit with liberation.
“She seems to know she has a special mission,” says Karen Grindler, the center’s director. She describes Velvet as a “total carrot pig” who doesn’t mind walking slow but loves to be fed a handful of carrots in return.
As Katie Hough, 10, cracks open a book and begins to sound out the words, EmmyLu lies silently on her belly as if she’s listening to a bedtime story. Sometimes, she will glare at the book’s pages or try to steal a kiss from her new friend.
Reading to Rover, held the first Saturday and second Monday of each month, helps children become confident readers by pairing them with a trained therapy dog. The idea is that children will feel more comfortable reading to a dog that won’t care if they make mistakes.
“Some are worried about reading, but I tell them to look at the picture and tell the dogs a story,” Cockrell says. “I know from experience it’s hard to read out loud.”
Younger children tend to be surprised to see dogs in a library but are too shy to get close to them, Jessica LeTourneur of Columbia Public Library’s Children’s Services says. Older participants are more bashful about the reading part.
Hough, however, scoots close to EmmyLu. She has a dog of her own named Moe but can’t figure out how EmmyLu remains so still and quiet while she reads. Despite being surrounded by other dogs and children, the 5-year-old Jack Russell terrier doesn’t bark, run or take a bathroom break.
This is an old trick, however, for EmmyLu. She’s participated in Reading to Rover for three years. As a therapy dog trained through Ann Gafke’s Teacher’s Pet program, EmmyLu also visits classrooms, nursing homes and Rusk Rehabilitation Center and performs on a doggie drill team. Cockrell traveled more than 4,000 miles last year so EmmyLu and Cockrell’s two other therapy dogs could share their affection with those struggling to read and those longing for a visitor.