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From the Magazine

“Changing Lives”

High-Tech Beauty: Texas Hearing and Service Dogs

THSD image croppedIn 1988, Sheri Soltes, President and Founder of Texas Hearing and Service Dogs (THSD), was a trial lawyer working in Houston. One day, Sheri happened upon a magazine article about a non-profit organization that had been taking dogs out of shelters and training them as assistance dogs, referring to guide dogs, hearing dogs, and service dogs.

The article spoke of the challenges and isolation faced by people with disabilities and how these specially trained dogs allowed them to lead more independent and fulfilling lives.  It was then that Sheri made a decision that would change her life and the lives of countless others forever.

Click here to read the entire article (pdf)

TATTLE TAIL by James C. Miller DVM

iStock_000001177940MediumHank first came to our hospital as an eight-week old ball of fur. From the very first, he had the Hospital staff and waiting clients enthralled.

As time went on Hank developed into seventy five pounds of standard poodle; with a highly developed personality. He relished any type of attention even if it meant the indignity of having his temperature taken, or the discomfort of his annual injections. He seemed to sense that he was one of the hospital favorites.

On one visit I made the usual inquiries about any problems or questions. Both Mr. and Mrs. Smith agreed that they had to keep an eye on their laundry basket, or they would find dirty laundry strewn about the house and yard.  We discussed various options and strategies, and I cautioned them that dogs were capable of eating some rather strange things. In the past I had removed everything from rocks to false teeth.

Click here to read the entire article (pdf)

LET LYING DOGS SLEEP by Perry P. Perkins

PhlashPuppyGrowing up in an apartment, I never had the opportunity to have my own dog. The guys I hunted and fished with all had great dogs, dogs that would point, and heel, and lay quietly beside the campfire looking adoringly at their masters.

I often bemoaned the absence of owning my own dog, usually whining to my mother on the subject no more than three or four times a day. I went as far as to suggest to my parents that it bordered on child-abuse to not allow a boy who loved to hunt and fish to own a dog, an action that could possibly even lead to a life of desperation and crime.

My mother, who seemed to feel that a life of desperation and crime was already a foregone conclusion, would nod understandingly, and with great sympathy tell me, “Shut up already, how many times have I told you we can’t afford a dog!”

Thus it was, with a sad heart, that I watched my friends train their own hounds to point pheasants, flush grouse, and basically do everything but pluck and cook their game for them. Without a dog, my own game bag was seldom filled. I blame this solely on my parents’ cold detachment to their child’s need, and not, of course, on my own stalking and shooting abilities.

Click here to read the entire article (pdf)

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