Bear is an 8-year-old black Labrador mix with some gray on his paws and muzzle. Tia is also 8 but is a blonde, watery-eyed Labrador Retriever.
People filtered in and out to of the boardroom at the Landing Hotel to meet them. They petted and sat with the dogs, who were wearing harnesses with patches that said “National Crisis Response Canines.” Some residents displaced by the landslide that tore through the White Cliff neighborhood were staying in the hotel, as well as others nearby.
Bear watched everyone intently and made eager noises until they sat down next to him. Then he rolled over and put his head in their lap.
“He’s very talkative. He’s got a lot to say,” Eleanor Denton, his handler, laughed.
The canine crisis teams flew in after the landslide. Tia and her handler Terry Yeomans live just outside Anchorage. Denton and Bear call Fairbanks home.
One landslide victim began quietly crying. Bear got restless. He was desperate to get over to them and offer comfort. But Tia was already on the case – in a more laid-back way.
She walked over to them, plopped down, and sat quietly. She drifted in and out of sleep and occasionally let out a long snore. Denton said that Bear, on the other hand, takes a different approach.
“He’s an interactive guy. So, like, Tia is kind of the quiet girl in the bunch,” she said.
The pair of dogs and handlers had been in Ketchikan for a few days, providing their furry comfort to people all over town. They made private house visits to displaced and grieving families dealing with loss of property and loss of life, including the family of Sean Griffin, who was killed in the devastating landslide. They visited the City’s Public Works Department, where they met with Griffin’s coworkers, as well as the Ketchikan Emergency Operations Center, where people worked virtually around the clock in the days after the slide, to try to piece things back together.
The official motto of the National Crisis Response Canines is “Dogs helping people.” The volunteer organization’s website says that the common element in all crises is a breaking of bonds – bonds of people, of places, of safety. Denton said what Bear and Tia do is to help repair those bonds.
“It’s sort of harnessing the bond that canines make with humans, and just being able to offer comfort in times of crisis. And, you know, let people just be themselves and feel the way they’re feeling, but just to be there for them,” she said.
While Tia slept quietly at a grieving victim’s feet, Denton said the only requirement for a good crisis response dog is a gentle disposition and an ability to adapt quickly to a situation.
“We got Bear free off of Craigslist, and he ended up just being a great dog that loves to please and likes to do tricks and likes to be doing something all the time,” she said as Bear groaned and huffed next to her.
So, Denton and her three kids enrolled Bear in a pet therapy program. She said when her kids went off to college, she decided to get involved with the crisis canines team.
“Which is a step above pet therapy in the sense that it’s a kind of psychological first aid,” she said.
The handlers play a role here too, though. Denton and Yeomans listened compassionately to the landslide survivors coming into the room. There were tears, as well as laughter.
After this stop, the dogs and handlers had a busy schedule. They spent the rest of the day visiting area schools. Denton said that’s where Bear really shines.
“He likes to interact with kids. The more you talk to him, the more he’ll talk back, kind of, and so he’s just always ready for the next thing. So yeah, he’s got two switches. He’s either on or he’s off, you know,” she laughed.
Yeomans said she’s been working with the National Crisis response Canines for nearly a decade, while Denton got involved a couple years ago. The organization has 50 crisis response dog teams across the country. But they are always looking for more hands – and paws – to volunteer.
Get in touch with the author at jack@krbd.org.
