Four paws that open doors

As Laura Barnett's four dogs jump around her and playfully nip at each other, one stands out.

Tully, a 7-year-old black Labrador retriever, keeps an eye on Barnett.

Walking alongside her motorized scooter, he waits for the call to duty.

"Look!" Barnett calls out. Tully follows Barnett's pointing finger and sees she has dropped a magazine.

As if by reflex, Tully picks it up in his mouth and with Barnett's command -- "give" -- he returns it to his master. He then goes back to his spot alongside Barnett.

Tully is a service dog from Canine Companions for Independence, a national nonprofit organization that provides trained dogs for people with disabilities.

Jabba and Tully

On May 31, 1980, Barnett's life changed forever.

She suffered a stroke in the brainstem that left her in a coma for two weeks.

When she awoke, she was paralyzed on both sides.

"It was a doozy," she said. "I didn't know what was going on. I didn't know I had a stroke. I had double vision."

Nine years later, a trip to Siers Feed & Pet Supply took her life in another direction.

Barnett received Jabba, a golden retriever, in 1991. The dog had to go through CCI's training regimen, which includes nearly two years with a "puppy raiser."

Barnett received Tully in 2002. At first, Jabba appeared jealous of the intruder.

"He was used to being alongside me," Barnett said. "Now I had to keep Tully with me."

Like other service dogs, Tully had learned more than 20 commands that ranged from "under," which sends the dog under a table and out of the way at a restaurant, to "visit," which makes the dog put his head in the lap of his master.

Without her four dogs in tow -- including Murrow, who didn't make it to advanced training in CCI but was given to Barnett as a release dog -- Barnett said her life would be a lot more boring.

She said the dogs serve other purposes besides just helping out with menial tasks.

They boost morale, she said, while also providing unconditional love.

They are companions for their owners, but one of their most important roles is the role of icebreaker.

"People maybe would shy away from someone in a wheelchair," Barnett said.

"But because of the dog, they come up to me and start talking. I like it."

Raising special dogs

Carole Gillham of Huntley has raised two puppies and is on her third one, a black Lab named Aspen.

"You have to love animals," she said. "You have to want to help people. It's knowing maybe I can make someone else's life a little better."

Gillham is one of about 850 people who raise puppies for CCI across the country, including 35 in the area. It is not an easy job.

Aside from the more than $45,000 it costs to breed, raise and train the dogs, the frustration of teaching the dog presents an obstacle.

"They are going to be what they are," Gillham said of the puppies.

Unfortunately, because of this, not all puppies make it to advanced training.

But that's OK with Gillham.

"The big thing for me -- if the dog's not meant for the program, then you don't want the dog to make it," she said.

"It's a hard life. They need to be suited for it."

The coordinator

Amy Campos received her first service dog in November of 1991 at the age of 24. Fifteen years earlier, Campos had suffered an injury while diving in the shallow end of a pool. She lost the use of all of her fingers as a result.

When she received her dog, she fell in love.

"My wheelchair's hard and cold," she said. "This dog was warm, fuzzy and lovable."

CCI, which opened its doors in 1975, has placed more than 2,600 dogs nationally, including 50 in this area.

The national CCI has five regional offices. The nearest one to this area, the North Central region, which is based in Delaware, Ohio, stretches from the western half of Pennsylvania to the Dakotas.

Campos decided soon thereafter that she would do more than just benefit from the dogs.

She began CCI's first and only satellite office, this one based out of Woodstock and covering the Chicago area.

She said starting the office was a natural thing, because the dogs do so much for people.

Especially for children.

"(The dog) helps break down a lot of social barriers," she said.

"A lot of times, they are ostracized for their disability. Now they're the cool kid with the cool dog. They literally and figuratively open doors."