Chapter 24 – Service dog

Shortly after getting out of the hospital, I began the application process for two different service dog organizations here in Denver. I nervously provided my information and my reasons for wanting a service dog; the whole time worrying that if I didn’t ask for enough, they would think I didn’t need a service dog, but if I asked for too much, they would just say that is not what they offer, sorry. My paranoia was justified because saying it would be nice if they could provide support during a transfer if something went wrong, caused an immediate rejection and closure of one of my applications. I ended up reapplying a bit later, making sure to leave out that particular request. The applications involved making a video answering some questions and showing your living environment, which is not super easy as a quadriplegic; thank you to everyone that helped film and edit the video [Nadia, Matt, Angel, …]. It’s also horrifying watching myself on camera, but I hoped they would see it in a less critical light. Once you make it to the waitlist, things slow down dramatically. You get quarterly updates on your position on the list, but they don’t actually update you each time. The time between updates makes it feel as if you have been dropped from the list or forgotten. Months, and then years began to roll by; after 3+ years of waiting, I was starting to constantly monitor the Humane Society website, dreaming of having a non-human companion.

I was at Craig hospital, trying out power chairs to decide which to prescribe when I got a call with the caller ID showing Freedom Service Dogs and I figured it was just an update, I hadn’t heard from them in a while. However, instead of the usual mildly apologetic tone, the woman I spoke with sounded like she was holding back some proper excitement. Instead of telling me my place in line, which I never felt gave me an idea of a timeframe, she told me they thought they had a dog that would be a good fit, and asked if I would come meet her and possibly join the placement class in a month. Understanding that things could fall through at any point for any number of reasons, I tried to temper my excitement when agreeing, but I was elated. Not only was I getting a new power chair, but I was finally getting a service dog, just as I was starting to push the idea out of my mind [to protect myself from disappointment]. The dog’s name was Bonus, named so because they thought there were 8 puppies in her litter but then out popped number 9, the bonus pup. She explained that Bonus was not really a people person [people dog?] and I’d needed to let her come to me rather than approaching her… perfect. The first meeting went relatively well. It was apparent that she was very food motivated and, as advertised, didn’t care much for being pet. She was super impressive, and despite all of the drool, I just wanted to keep giving her treats for all her little tricks, and just for being cute. My big fear was that because I can’t sweat, don’t have hand function, am constantly seated, and don’t have the muscles necessary to apply pressure in certain directions, she would basically be entirely uninterested in me. 

In any case, we were all set for the placement class the next month. I was still hesitant to tell anyone it was even happening, just in case it didn’t work out, but ended up telling a small handful of people. It felt like with each person I told, a little more pressure was added for things to go well; I was already considering the embarrassment of things not working out. The placement class was supposed to take place over 3 weeks, during which we would be learning everything we would need to work effectively with our service dogs. There was a lot of information to digest, both on general care for dogs and reading body language, to more service dog related information, such as commands, cues, and legal protections. However, the hour or so drive to their facility was wearing me down; I was still in my old power chair, and not being able to move during the drive was pretty painful. The people at Freedom Service Dogs were amazing, they worked with me on rearranging things to where they would come out to my apartment to do the training sessions. If I had to cancel because of nerve pain or some other issue, they reassured me it was ok and just rescheduled things.

It was still overwhelming at first; there was just so much to do and to think about. I had to consider everything from walking the dog 5 times a day, meaning I have to do the chair-to-chair transfer 10 extra times a day, to feeding her or knowing what to do with her in emergencies. For a quadriplegic living alone, every little task takes a lot of time and effort, especially when the task is new, and everything with her was new. It quickly got to the point where I was basically 50-50 on if I was going to make it or if I was going to have to give up on the idea and give her back. New situations can be extra frustrating because they are stark reminders of how handicapped you are; unfamiliar actions are rarely elegant or efficient. A few people from my placement class dropped out or changed their mind. I'm sure a lot of it was the shock of reality vs perception and the overwhelming nature of adjusting to such a big change.

After about a month, things had become significantly easier, and she was starting to actually make things easier. She slowly became more and more affectionate, now she demands a lot of attention, cuddles, and scratches; she will lay across my legs as I try to get dressed in the morning and pouts when I have to pull them away so I can finish and actually pet her. She has a long list of skills including opening doors, picking things like credit cards up, pressing buttons, etc. We even taught her how to pick her toys up and put them away or to take cans and bottles to the recycling bin. She comes with me everywhere and has some pretty amazing self-control; I can drop treats right in front of her and she will ignore it until it’s picked up and handed to her. It’s also pretty great having companionship. I could not be more appreciative of Freedom Service Dogs and everything they did. Service dogs are not cheap, I think they estimate the cost to them at around $30,000; however, they provide the dogs for free for the clients, enabled by incredibly generous donors. If you are looking for a worthy organization to donate to, I highly recommend Freedom Service Dogs, or a similar organization [do your homework], you could help make an enormous positive change in someone’s life.

One thing about having a cute dog with you everywhere you go is that a significant portion of people want to pet her; and as most women can attest to, a lot of people have a surprising lack of self-control when it comes to touching things without consent. It’s exhausting telling every other person to please not pet her because she is working. People seem personally offended by the idea that they aren’t allowed to do whatever they want. My favorite random people are the animal lovers who have either run into the situation before or have taken the time to research it and you can see them basically physically restrain themselves from petting Bonus.

                Internal dialogue:

Devil – “Pet the fucking dog, Susan, you fucking LOVE dogs! PET IT!”

Angel – “Don’t you pet that fucking dog, Susan, you know better… Suuusannn… Stop it.”

                External dialogue:

Susan – Haha Hiiiiii [that “hi” you give when your brain is 1000% processing something other than the words coming out of your mouth], what a cutie [starts to reach out while making a few short noises, somewhere between a laugh and a pant], oooh, I know I’m not supposed to pet her… right? [looking up with hopeful eyes, hoping I will just give her the go ahead].

Those people are great; they obviously love dogs to a point where self-control is visibly difficult, but they have the decency to fight those urges and respect other peoples’ boundaries. Be a Susan.