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An Assistance Dog Doesn’t Fix Everything: Why You Always Need a Backup System
- Rebekka Van Vliet
- 2 days ago
- 7 min read
Having an Assistance Dog Doesn’t Mean Everything Is Solved
There is a persistent myth that an assistance dog is “the solution”. That once you have a dog, life becomes normal again. That you can suddenly go everywhere. That you will need less support. That you will “manage just fine”.
But that picture is not true.
An assistance dog is not a reset button. It is a tool — a living tool — that, with training, management, boundaries and a lot of real-world structure, can do what it can do: reduce risk, increase safety, support independence, and help prevent escalation.
That is a lot. But it is not everything.
An assistance dog = support, not a cure
An assistance dog does not change your diagnosis.An assistance dog does not “fix” a dysregulated body.An assistance dog does not cure trauma.And an assistance dog does not suddenly make the outside world accessible, quiet, or understanding.
This is true for every type of team: from guide dogs to ADL, medical alert/response, mobility, autism support and mental health/PTSD assistance dogs. The tasks differ, but the reality around them is often surprisingly similar.
What an assistance dog can do (depending on type and team):
Guide work / visual impairment: safe guidance, obstacle avoidance, route support, “intelligent disobedience” (refusing when something is unsafe).
Medical alert/response: alerting or responding to dysregulation (e.g. fainting risk, heart rhythm issues, hypo/hyperglycaemia, seizures), fetching help, bringing a medical kit, alerting someone.
ADL / task assistance: picking up items, retrieving, operating doors/lights, helping with daily tasks.
Mobility / practical support: transfers and practical assistance (always within what is safe and responsible for dog and handler).
Autism / sensory regulation: creating space, blocking, supporting structure and predictability, preventing overload.
Mental health / PTSD: detecting stress/dissociation, interrupting spirals, deep pressure therapy, buffering space, helping you switch gears before overload.
But even then, there is still a person with limitations. With days that do not fit “just push through”. With boundaries that cannot be negotiated.
An assistance dog does not make you “less ill”. It can make certain parts safer or more possible.
The dog does not carry your whole life
This is a reality that is often forgotten — including by institutions.
Some systems see an assistance dog and assume: then care can be reduced.Or: then support is no longer needed.Or: then transport arrangements or accommodations are no longer necessary.
But an assistance dog is not a replacement for appropriate services, aids, accommodations or human support. In fact, an assistance dog works best when the foundation is stable:
enough rest and recovery (for both human and dog)
predictability where possible
support where needed
safe housing, safe routes, safe access
room to train without living in constant survival mode
Without that foundation, the dog stops being “extra support” and becomes a bandage on a much bigger problem.
An assistance dog must never be your last resort
An assistance dog is not a last resort. And it should never be treated as one.
Not because assistance dogs are “not enough”, but because it is unsafe and unfair to make a living being your only safety net.
Because a dog can be temporarily unavailable
Dogs get sick. Dogs get injured. Dogs age. Dogs can need a step back in training. And sometimes something happens outside your control: an incident, chronic stress, overstimulation, recovery after a bad experience.
This is true for guide dogs as well: if your entire independence depends on one dog, every injury, illness or rest period becomes an acute problem.
If your safety depends on “the dog has to fix it”, then any downtime becomes a crisis.
Because human problems should not be solved by an animal
Many barriers are not “dog problems” — they are system problems: inaccessible care, unsafe environments, lack of appropriate transport, bureaucracy, lack of understanding, or public spaces that do not cooperate.
You do not solve that by putting it on a dog.You solve it by placing responsibility where it belongs: with people, services, and policy.
See an assistance dog as an aid — like a wheelchair
An assistance dog is an aid. A living aid, but still an aid.
You would not hang your entire survival on one wheelchair. Or one pair of crutches. Or one mobility scooter. Not because you “must be able to walk”, but because aids can fail: they break, batteries die, environments make them unusable.
So you need Plan B — not to live comfortably, but to remain safe and functional.
With a dog this matters even more: “always” does not exist. You cannot expect a dog to catch everything 24/7. It is wonderful when your dog alerts reliably and supports you — but you still cannot do without a backup system.
With guide dogs this is obvious: cane skills must remain
A guide dog often makes travel safer, calmer and more comfortable. But you cannot rely on the dog alone.
If you have a guide dog, you still need to be able to use the long cane. You still need to orient yourself and find your way with the cane. Not because the dog is not good enough, but because there are times a dog cannot work: illness, injury, recovery, rest, or situations where working would not be responsible.
That is why it makes sense to keep those cane skills maintained — for example by practising intentionally once a month. So it does not become a “panic skill” you only need when it is already going wrong.
With a guide dog it is easier. And often much nicer.But the backup system next to the dog must remain — and that means your fallback must stay usable too.
You need a backup system alongside your dog
This is the core:
Your dog is a layer on top of your backup system — not the backup system itself.
A backup system does not mean life becomes easy. It means that if one part falls away (your dog), you do not immediately fall into free-fall.
A backup system can include:
aids (technical or practical)
trusted contacts who know what to do
care or support (community support, home care, family help)
emergency routines (“if X happens, then Y”)
practical safety nets (grocery delivery, transport, emergency cash)
accommodations that keep your baseline safe
💡 The goal is not to live the exact same life without your dog.The goal is not to sink when your dog cannot work.
And yes: if your dog is unavailable, you may need extra help. That is not weakness. That is exactly what a safety net is for.
Real-life example: when I temporarily did not have a working assistance dog
I can explain this best with my own experience.
There was a period when my previous assistance dog fell away, exactly around the time Iris had just come to live with me. Iris was still a puppy then. A puppy is wonderful, but at that stage a puppy cannot perform tasks. No stability. No assistance outside the home. No medical alert. No ADL. No “team work” out in public.
And that had immediate impact on daily functioning.
Not because I could do “nothing”, but because my entire life had to be rebuilt in a way that remained safe — and my world became much smaller.
In practice this meant:
No appointments outside the home. Appointments had to be moved to home visits, phone calls, or video calls. Going out was simply not realistic.
Groceries had to be delivered. I could take a puppy outside to toilet, but that was about it. “Just quickly” going to a shop was not an option.
More reliance on care and support. When a dog falls away, a part of what is normally manageable shifts back to tools and people: more help, more coordination, more planning.
More pressure around the household. When my baseline drops, it affects everything around it — including what is needed to keep daily life running.
And one thing became especially obvious with medical alert.
During that period, I had to fall back on technology: a heart-rate watch. It helps, but it is limited. A watch can flag a strong rise or drop in heart rate, but it does not show what my blood pressure is doing — and in my case, that combination is a big part of the risk. The result was more manual checks, more monitoring, and more medical follow-ups.
Meanwhile, my assistance dog normally alerts very accurately — often earlier, and often more reliably than one single measurement.
That is the point: if the dog is unavailable, your backup system has to take over. It may be less comfortable and less complete, but it needs to work.
It is also simply not fair to the dog
Beyond your safety, there is another truth that deserves to be said out loud: fairness to the dog.
An assistance dog is not a machine. It is a living being with limits, stress, recovery needs, and days when things are harder. If your dog becomes your only lifeline, the dog is forced into an impossible role: “you are not allowed to fail, because otherwise I will sink.”
That pressure is not fair — and it is not sustainable.
A dog can do important work.But a dog should not carry responsibility for your survival.
A sustainable partnership means the dog is also allowed to rest, recover, step back, age, and sometimes simply be a dog — without your entire system collapsing.
“But you have an assistance dog, right?”
Many teams know that sentence.
People see a dog lying quietly, walking neatly, working with focus — and they assume: then things must be fine.
What they do not see:
the preparation behind one simple outing
the recovery needed after something that looks “small”
the management required to keep it safe (for dog, handler and environment)
how often you must choose between basic needs because energy is limited
Assistance dog ≠ always being able to
Having an assistance dog does not mean you can always go out, always travel, always work, always participate, or always “just pop by”.
Sometimes the most responsible choice is: not going.Sometimes the best training is: rest.Sometimes the safest option is: staying home.
That is not failure. That is management.
An assistance dog is not meant to save your life
An assistance dog is there to reduce risk and support your functioning — not to save your life.
Not because you must do it alone, but because “saving” belongs to a safety net of people and resources: care, aids, routines, Plan B, and an environment that takes responsibility.
An assistance dog can do a lot: alert earlier, help you switch gears, perform tasks, create safety and space.
But an assistance dog must not become:
your only alarm
your only safety net
your last resort
Because then you place responsibility for survival on a dog. And that is not fair, not sustainable, and ultimately not safe.
The assistance dog is the amplifier. The backup system is the foundation.
What I hope
I hope we move away from the myth that an assistance dog “fixes everything”.
And that we are honest about what an assistance dog really is:
an aid
a partnership
a responsibility
and also: a living being with limits
An assistance dog can change your life.But it is not a replacement for care, accessibility, or a system doing its job.
An assistance dog is there to support you — not to fill the gap others leave behind.
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