Many years ago, in 2009, I was a disabled person training my third service dog for myself — and quite miserable about it.
When I trained my first service dog, Jersey, it was an exciting new adventure. As Jersey aged, I got a second dog to train while Jersey was still working.
Training my second service-dog-in-training, Gadget, was thrilling because I knew so much more about dog training (and had switched to all positive reinforcement). Also, my first service dog was modeling for Gadget as well as helping me.
I also immediately fell head-over-heels in love with my second SDiT. Gadget was so smart, so trainable, and just sympatico with me. He was my heart dog. As I got sicker over the years, I trained him to help with more and more tasks. Gadget was my arms, legs, and voice, as well as my heart. He got cancer at the age of eight and died a few months later. I was utterly devastated.
I got a puppy, Barnum, to train as my third service dog. I was grief-stricken, frustrated, and in shock that I had to start at square one and wait so long for him to become helpful. The first few months together, I was just a ball of pain. It was rough sledding for us both.
In 2012, when Barnum was already working well for me, I got a comment on a blog post from Katherine Schneider, a psychologist and guide dog partner of many years. She said I had gone through “second dog syndrome.” I had never heard this term before. She wrote a guest post for my blog about it, and it has stuck with me. Over the past decade of training with hundreds of pets and service dogs, I have discovered that second dog syndrome is very common in both situations. When your old dog dies or retires, it is practically perfect. The new dog you get is very… imperfect.
Kathie has graciously agreed to letting me repost her Second Dog Syndrome article here. Enjoy!
Guest post by Katherine Schneider, Ph.D and guide dog partner for 50 years
If you’ve had more than one service/assistance dog and someone brings up the subject of second dog syndrome (SDS), I’ll bet you know exactly what they’re talking about. Maybe you didn’t have it a lot or maybe it didn’t hit you until your third dog; but comparing, and finding you don’t love or like second dog as much as first dog, is as natural as dogs greeting by smelling each others’ back ends, but not nearly as much fun.
The first step in dealing with second dog syndrome is accepting it as real and forgivable. Of course you compare; young children learn to pick out what’s different in a picture and we praise them for noticing differences. New Dog may look different, act different, work different, and even smell different. You had history with Old Dog. All you have with New Dog is hopes and dreams. As Old Dog gets further in the past, memories of the bad things they did fade first; in other words, they become a saint. New Dog is young and foolish and the bad things they do are right here and now.
Most of all, you have changed. You’re older and perhaps less flexible, both physically and mentally. If Old Dog worked well for you, it was a life changer for you, kind of like first love. Now you’ve come to expect that level of dignity and independence in a functioning service/assistance dog. New Dog has big shoes to fill. If Old Dog didn’t work out well, you’ve got a million ideas of what you and New Dog need to do differently this time.
So when you think those thoughts of “Old Dog would never have done that,” “I don’t love/like New Dog,” and “I wish I still had Old Dog,” chalk it up to second dog syndrome and say to yourself, to New Dog, or to a friend who might understand, “I’m having a SDS moment, forgive me.”
If you acknowledge those second dog syndrome thoughts instead of trying to fight them, they lose some of their power. You’re not wasting your time and energy feeling guilty. Instead you can begin step two: When you find yourself comparing, try to add an “and” occasionally. Old Dog was better at this and New Dog is good at this. On a really bad day it may be, “And New Dog looks cute when he/she is asleep.” When others point out, “Old dog would never have done that” about your New Dog, all you can say is, “Yes and I really miss Old Dog too.” Unless of course you have time to educate the thoughtless passer-by about second dog syndrome. Included in that education could be the fact that New Dog is not a replacement, but a successor. Old Dog will never be replaced.
The third step is give it time and work. Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither are relationships. Gradually you may notice more things about New Dog that you like and they will grow up and settle into their job. If you take care of them like a valued employee, they’ll work to earn your trust and love. In my experience, they’re quicker to love than I am anyway, so as I find myself with each successor dog in the middle of my heart I learn that I have a big heart. Then when people ask, “Which was your favorite, really?” I can truthfully say: “It’s just like your kids; they are each my favorite in different ways.”
Katherine Schneider, Ph.D. is a retired clinical psychologist, blind from birth and living with fibromyalgia. She’s the author of several books, including her memoir, To the Left of Inspiration: Adventures in Living with Disabilities, and a children’s book, Your Treasure Hunt: Disabilities and Finding Your Gold. She’s had Seeing Eye dogs for 50 years. Her blog, Kathie Comments, covers subjects ranging from aging with disabilities to assistance/service dogs to disability activism.
https://atyourservicedogtraining.com/dealing-with-second-dog-syndrome/
