STEPHEN LEWIS meets a dog of many talents...
SOME celebrities let fame go to their heads. Not Orca. He may be the toast of York after helping save his disabled owner Cheryl Smith when her motorised wheelchair toppled into a ditch. But he's keeping his four paws firmly on the ground.
There have been so many comings and goings at Cheryl and Orca's flat in Heslington in the last few days that the wonder dog takes one more visitor in his stride. His tail thumps in greeting as I enter; but more out of politeness than with real enthusiasm.
Before long, he dutifully goes through his paces one more time, collecting clean laundry from Cheryl's washing machine in his mouth and placing it, item by item, in her hand.
"Get more! Get more!" says Cheryl. Orca's head disappears into the washing machine again and he reappears with a shirt in his mouth.
"Excellent! Good boy!" Cheryl says, rubbing him affectionately and giving him a little treat. "He's quite a slobbery dog," she adds, turning to me. "But he doesn't get slobber on my washing. I don't know how he does it!"
It's a wonder Orca - full name Canine Partner Orca - is up to getting the washing out at all, slobber or no slobber, after the attention he has been receiving recently.
Since the Evening Press revealed on Monday his part in Cheryl's rescue, the 18-month-old golden retriever has been hounded by TV and news crews alike.
At the third time of being asked to empty the washing machine for the photographer, his enthusiasm is beginning to wane.
He knows she doesn't really need him to do it, Cheryl says. "If he finds it boring, he's quite likely to be put off." She gives him a big hug as a reward.
Orca's fame, however - unlike that of some Get Me Out Of Here celebrities - is entirely justified. It began when he was taking 22-year-old chemistry student Cheryl for a walk near Holmefield Lane, Heslington, on Sunday.
Cheryl has suffered since childhood from a neurological condition, that affects her ability to control her legs. By 13 she needed crutches to walk, by 17 she was spending most of her time in a wheelchair.
It doesn't affect her determination to make the most of her life. On Sunday, while out with Orca, Cheryl's motorised wheelchair struck a brick and veered off into a 20ft deep drainage ditch. The chair came to rest on top of her, trapping her by the legs in the water.
Orca - who only finished his rescue training eight weeks ago - immediately dashed off in search of help, approaching first another dog walker and then a passing jogger, who followed him and found Cheryl. Orca became a media star.
His talents don't end with life-saving and emptying the washing machine. He can pick up keys when Cheryl drops them, bring her the telephone, open doors and even take videotapes out of the video machine.
Altogether, Cheryl says, he can obey more than 105 commands; all the usual doggy ones plus a host of more useful ones.
She gives a demonstration. Orca is sniffing at my leg. "Sit down!" says Cheryl. He does, instantly. "Down!" Orca lies down. "Roll over!" He does, presenting a belly to be tickled.
Cheryl propels herself across the room in her wheelchair and, as if by accident, drops her keys. Orca springs into action, retrieving them and placing them in her waiting hand.
Cheryl puts on a glove. "Tug! Tug!" she says. Orca nips the fabric of the glove in his front teeth without touching Cheryl's skin, then neatly pulls the glove off.
One of the things he most enjoys, Cheryl says, is pushing buttons with his nose.
He's great with light switches, and can even press buttons at pedestrian crossings. His favourite party piece, though, is at Asda. "Where the milk is, there's a button you can press which makes a cow noise," says Cheryl. "He loves to do that. He draws quite a crowd!"
So just how did this super-dog learn to do all these things?
He's a graduate of a training programme run by charity Canine Partners, that's how. The charity has a training centre in West Sussex where it brings up young dogs specifically to be companions to people with disabilities.
The animals are trained in everything from rescue techniques - dashing off in search of assistance at the command "get help!" - to helping their owners get up after a fall, opening a washing machine, and even helping their owners undress.
"They can pull zips down," says programme director Nina Bondarenko.
Training begins when puppies are seven weeks old, using a method known as "operant conditioning".
It is basically a system of rewarding dogs when they display the behaviour you want, Nina says. "It is all positive; there is nothing negative in it. We want them to enjoy learning."
It works by getting the puppies to associate certain actions with a reward - whether it's a treat, or just a cuddle or hug. Take opening a washing machine for example, says Nina. Every time a puppy brings his nose close to the washing machine the trainer will say a command word and give a reward. The puppy begins to associate the command with the action and the reward. Step by step he will get closer to opening the door.
"Eventually, he will work out the problem, and move with his nose or his mouth in such a way that the door will open," Nina says. "We all clap and shout, and he gets a huge hug and a reward."
Gradually, during a year, the pups and young dogs are taught to perform a range of actions to a range of commands, using the tools nature gave them - mouth, paws and nose. They also learn to closely observe people - so they can almost anticipate commands.
At about 12 or 14 months, the young dogs move to daily advanced training classes which last three months. Then they are ready to be assigned an owner.
Anybody who could benefit is considered, says Nina - usually people with a disability. Prospective human partners are invited for interview, then get to meet the dogs at training.
Usually, it's the dog who chooses an owner - which is what happened with Cheryl and Orca in January this year. Cheryl walked into a room full of dogs. "Many were quite bouncy," she says. "Orca wasn't like that. He stayed lying on his blanket looking glum. At the first training session, he didn't work so well with me.
"But at the second session we had a bit of a spark. He kept looking up at me when we were working together. They said he was seeking my approval."
Orca had chosen.
Despite his talents, what Cheryl really appreciates about Orca is his companionship.
"He goes absolutely everywhere with me," she says. "He helps me everywhere."
She gives him another hug. "I should feel strange without him now."
- Since 1992, Canine Partners has placed dogs such as Orca with about 70 people across Britain. To find out more, or to make a donation, call 08456 580480.
Updated: 10:24 Friday, May 23, 2003
Comments: Our rules
We want our comments to be a lively and valuable part of our community - a place where readers can debate and engage with the most important local issues. The ability to comment on our stories is a privilege, not a right, however, and that privilege may be withdrawn if it is abused or misused.
Please report any comments that break our rules.
Read the rules hereComments are closed on this article