Sit, Stay, Save a Life: My Journey Training Clyde as a Service Dog

Let me tell you about a curly-haired goofball named Clyde. He’s got the bounce of a kangaroo, the fluff of a cotton ball, and the heart of a lion. But what most people don’t see is that Clyde is more than just a dog—he’s in training to become my service animal. And this isn’t just about teaching him to sit on command or shake paws for treats; it’s about building a lifeline, one paw at a time.

The Truth Behind the Vest

When most people see a dog in a service vest, they think, “Aww, how cute!” or “Can I pet him?” And while I appreciate the love, it’s important to understand what that vest really represents. It’s not just a fashion statement. It's a signal that this dog is working—not just for fun, but for someone’s safety, stability, and sanity.

In my case, that someone is me.

As a disabled veteran, there are days where the world feels like it’s spinning way too fast and I’m barely hanging on. Anxiety, hypervigilance, and sensory overload can sneak up like ninjas in the middle of what should be a normal day. Clyde? He’s my early warning system. He’s learning to recognize the signs before I even realize them myself. That’s the kind of trust and communication we’re working toward. And let me tell you—it doesn’t happen overnight.

Why I Chose to Train Him Myself

I won’t sugarcoat it: training your own service dog is a full-time job. There’s no magic whistle or overnight transformation. It’s a process filled with setbacks, small victories, and lots (and lots) of dog treats.

So why do it myself? Two big reasons:

1. Bonding: The connection we’re building is personal. I know what I need, and I know Clyde. Training him myself ensures that those two things grow together.

2. Accessibility: Not everyone can afford or access a pre-trained service animal. Waitlists are long, and cost can run into the tens of thousands. Training Clyde myself is not only empowering, it’s practical.

Also… let’s be real. Who better to train a dog to respond to my meltdowns than the person having them?

It’s Not Just About Me

Clyde represents something bigger than just my own peace of mind. He stands for the hundreds of veterans, individuals with disabilities, and people struggling with invisible battles who rely on these amazing animals. And unfortunately, the public understanding of service dogs still has a long way to go.

Service dogs are not pets. They aren’t emotional support animals. They are highly trained medical tools with fur. If you wouldn’t reach out and touch someone’s wheelchair or oxygen tank, don’t do it to their dog.

Every time someone distracts Clyde while we’re out training, it’s like someone yanking the steering wheel while I’m driving. It's not harmless—it’s dangerous.

The Responsibility of the Vest

When Clyde wears his vest, he’s clocked in. But I’m also clocked in too. It’s my responsibility to ensure he’s up to the task. That means consistent training, vet visits, certifications, and—most importantly—respect for the process.

I don’t expect perfection. Clyde’s still learning. But every time he alerts me before I even realize I’m spiraling, every time he nudges my hand or lays across my lap to calm me down, I’m reminded why this is so important.

Because this isn’t just about obedience—it’s about freedom.

Final Thoughts (and a Gentle Reminder)

If you see us out and about, and Clyde’s rocking his vest, give us a smile—but please don’t reach. He’s working, just like I am. And if you’re ever considering training your own service animal, know this: it’s a marathon, not a sprint. But it’s absolutely worth every muddy paw print on the floor and every stubborn “sit” that turns into a flop.

Clyde may not have chosen this job, but he chose me. And for that, I’ll forever be grateful.