Trained dogs can sense oncoming seizures!

It was a sweltering July afternoon, the kind of day Asheville resident Jody Smith knew might bring on a seizure.

The victim of a brain injury, Smith was often at risk for attacks on hot days, especially when active. That day, Smith had performed music at an outdoor church function and knew she needed rest.
While Smith showered for an afternoon nap at her North Asheville home, best friend Heidi Neese played ball in the yard with Smith's cocker spaniel puppy, Micaiah.

Though typically a popular game with the pup, Micaiah seemed uninterested, opting to sit by the back door, as if to get Neese's attention. Neese decided to check in on her friend, but Smith assured her she felt fine.

Going back out to play, Neese still couldn't get Micaiah away from the backdoor. She stepped inside again only to find Smith on the floor.

"I should have listened to him the first time," Neese said.

Micaiah is a seizure alert dog, a special kind of service animal that can alert its owner of an attack before it happens, though Smith did not know this at the time.

A mysterious sense

Experts remain unsure about how certain dogs execute this special sense. The skill is not restricted to any one breed or conditions. Theory is the dogs pick up on the change in electrical signals associated with seizures.

Some say canines can be trained to alert, others insist it cannot be learned at all, only re-enforced.
In spite of the mystery surrounding "seizure" dogs," their legitimacy is generally affirmed among authorities in the field, said Peter Van Haverbeck, a spokesperson for the Epilepsy Foundation.
"There was a lot of skepticism about it at first, but now it's more or less accepted in the medical community that there is this phenomenon even though we don't understand it," he said.

For many pet owners, the alerting comes as a surprise, as it did for Smith.

Neese gave Micaiah to Smith as a pet, a gift Smith was reluctant about at first, already caring for two cats. Now Smith sees Micaiah as divine provision.

"I just thought that's the last thing I need is a dog ... but I really think God had another plan, he said, 'You need this so this is how we're going to get him to you,'" Smith said.

Micaiah also helps his owner lower the frequency of seizures. Before Micaiah, Smith says her life was a constant cycle of exertion and exhaustion. She pushed herself to stay active, neglecting rest and often forgetting her medication until she felt ready to collapse, increasing her likelihood of an attack.

"Life was just one episode rest, one episode recover," she said.

With training, Micaiah nudges her when its time for a nap and wears a vest carrying her medication, a constant reminder to stay on schedule. Smith says the dog has her on a routine, helping her regulate her energy so she can continue doing the things she loves without over-exerting herself.

"I have a life back," she said.

Trained to serve

Micaiah required some education to become Smith's full-fledged service dog. The dog was trained at A Good Dog's Life in Asheville and continues to take classes at Asheville Obedience Club, mainly to ensure he is well-behaved when serving in public.

Rick Harrison, president and chief executive officer of Carolina Canines, a Wilmington-based nonprofit that trains dogs to serve people with disabilities, says dogs can be trained to provide a variety of services for seizure sufferers. In addition to alerting, he says dogs can do everything from pulling the plug in a bathtub to fetching a cold cloth from the refrigerator after their owner suffers a seizure.

Still, he makes no guarantees to clients about a dog's ability to alert.

"You can put 10 dogs in a room with a person who is getting ready to have a seizure and one or two maybe able to pick up on the activities," he said.

"But a lot of it is picking up on what the dog is trying to tell you," he said.

Harrison says a dog's way of alerting can be as different as the individual dog, one standing in front of a door 12 hours before a seizure, another sitting next to the person within minutes.

Evoking curiosity

Everywhere they go, Micaiah gains an audience, Smith says.

Just leaving the parking lot of Sam's Club, Smith says three people may approach her, fascinated by her vest-clad cocker spaniel.

"He's so cute," a child says, petting him, "What does he do?" their parent asks.

Smith understands their curiosity but wishes people would not ask about her disability, the same as they wouldn't ask similar questions of someone with a guide dog.

Though dogs like Micaiah might enjoy the affection, Smith says it is important for people to realize that service animals should not be distracted from their work in public.

"The dog with the jacket on is doing a job," she said.