From barely holding on to thriving: My sleep disorder assistance dog

“Have you ever thought about getting an assistance dog?”

I had not. At the time, my knowledge of service animals was limited to guide, epilepsy, and diabetes dogs, none of which matched my situation.

“For your sleepwalking” my friend clarified. 

This had my attention. I’d tried everything – and I mean EVERYTHING – to get my severe sleep disorder under control. Results had varied from ineffectual to near fatal. Nothing had stopped my increasingly dangerous sleep injuries.

“Actually,” my friend added, “I think a dog could help you with a lot of things.” 

Getting up after falls, retrieving dropped objects, stabilising balance, guiding during migraine-related blindness… the list went on. Soon all my friends were jumping on the idea, suggesting tasks my theoretical furry companion could help with.

Assistance Dogs New Zealand Trust (ADNZT) quickly responded to my query, letting me know that while they couldn’t directly train a dog for sleepwalking, they did believe a service animal could help me. They could train tasks to help with my other disabilities and a qualified dog would likely pick up ways to help with sleepwalking.

However, the waiting list was long – years long. So, I waited, my symptoms growing worse as the months, then years, passed. 

Dog matches are made carefully, factoring in the human’s and dog’s personalities, the living situation, and tasks the dog enjoys. Successful teams rely on deep two-way trust, and the dynamic must be right for this intimate bond to form. 

My first match failed. 

While it’s rare for matches to go wrong, it can happen for various reasons. In my case, the dog was just too strong and energetic for me. I couldn’t meet his needs, and his strength was dangerous when I’m unstable on my feet. 

Having a dog for a short time gave me a taste of what it might be like. Saying goodbye was a devastating blow, as was going back onto the list. Whereas before waiting had been a passive thing – a possibility for the distant future – it now became an ever-present source of both hope and anxiety.

When the call finally came, I was at my lowest, desperately physically unwell and suicidal from the stress. There was an immediate sense of relief at knowing a dog was coming, but there was also more anxiety. Would I be able to care for a dog? What if this match failed too? Was I too disabled to meet a dog’s needs?

Strangely, the opposite question caused me the most concern – was I disabled enough? I’d spent years working in the disability and mental health sectors, advocating for people with invisible illnesses, but suddenly my lack of need for a wheelchair or blind cane made me feel like a fraud. 

I voiced these concerns to the founder of ADNZT. I expected her to get angry – to tell me off and take the dog away. Instead, she gave a knowing smile. Nearly every client has these worries, she told me. Everyone thinks they’re not bad enough, because there’s always someone worse. 

“I think you have been struggling with this for so long, you have forgotten what normal looks like,” she said.

She was right. As my bond with assistance dog Bindi developed, I realised just how much of my world had been shaped by my poor sleep and other limitations. Once I trusted that Bindi would be there to support me through falls and other symptoms, my confidence in living life independently grew. I went from just barely holding on, to thriving in a life I loved, all with my furry companion at my side.

Bindi did indeed learn how to help mitigate my sleepwalking. It’s never completely resolved; I still have sleep disturbances and occasional injuries, but I’m able to get much needed rest with her keeping me safe. 

Some days, it’s still really hard to get myself out of bed, let alone out of the house, but she needs a walk whether I have the spoons or not. Having the responsibility of someone else’s needs can be the best motivation to look after your own. 

She’s also got me to be more social. Service dogs are adorable, and that means lots of comments and questions from strangers. My confidence in talking to people has grown immensely now that they approach me on a daily basis. She’s a great ice breaker with new friends.

There are some things that people contemplating an assistance dog should know. The questions and interest from the public can become invasive. Handlers often have to ask people to stop patting or distracting their dog, and it can be tricky if you’re in a rush and everyone wants to stop and talk. You may have to challenge business owners who don’t understand public access laws. If you don’t like talking to strangers, this is an important one to think about, but service dog organisations can help with coming up with scripts to navigate this.

Even though assistance dogs are highly trained, they are still dogs, with all the usual needs and cheekiness. It can be a little like taking a two-year-old everywhere with you, making sure you plan food, water and toilet stops carefully. Common service dog breeds are highly food driven, and they will try eat things they shouldn’t – tennis balls, in Bindi’s case. Pet insurance is a must!

A dog may also mean changes for people in your life. Access rights don’t apply to private residences, and friends may not want a dog in their home. It’s worth having a chat and working out a plan for where you will meet if this is the case. Relationship problems are also somewhat common around a new service animal in the family – I went through a breakup when getting my first dog. My suspicion is, it’s less about the dog, and more about what it represents: a visible reminder of the worsening or permanence of disability. In a strong relationship this is something that can be worked through, especially when you understand where the feelings are coming from. 

Perhaps the biggest thing, and the absolute hardest part of any dog is how quickly they age. Less than a decade after my friend posed that initial question to me, Bindi is slowing down. It will soon be time for her to retire. All going to plan, she will be able to stay with me as a pet, but the adjustment will be incredibly hard for us both.

Knowing what I do now, would I do it all again?

Yes. Without a doubt. The hard bits absolutely pale in comparison to the joy, independence and love she brings to my life. In fact, I already am doing it again. I’m back on the waiting list for a second dog. 

The official term is “replacement dog” but I refuse to use that. My girl is, simply put, irreplaceable. She saved my life, and forming a relationship with another dog won’t change what she means to me.

“Have you ever thought about getting an assistance dog?”

I find myself asking that question of others often, reflecting each time on where I started. It’s not going to be the right option for everyone, but I can honestly say it’s the best decision I ever made.

Where to learn more

In New Zealand, assistance dogs must be certified by one of the following organisations. You can learn more on their websites.

• Assistance Dogs New Zealand Trust
• Hearing Dogs for Deaf People New Zealand
• K9 Medical Detection New Zealand
• Mobility Assistance Dogs Trust
• New Zealand Epilepsy Assist Dogs Trust
• Perfect Partners Assistance Dogs Trust
• Blind Low Vision NZ Guide Dog Services
• K9 Search Medical Detection

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