A Tale of Three Cities

Once upon a time there was a service dog and a girl who needed to go on a trip.  Their family was getting together in Texas for the holidays and they had to get on two different airplanes to go to Texas and one to go home.  They needed to go through security each time they got on an airplane (three different days, don't ask them why, they didn't book the flights), and each time security did something different.

In Spokane the TSA knew exactly what to do.  They let this girl and her service dog go right through the metal detector (which is legally required) with no arguing.  The girl went first and did not beep, and then she called her rockstar of a service dog through (this is the smartest way to do this you see, if they go through together and one of them beeps, they both get pat down - yuck).  She told her service dog to lay down and "stay" as she walked through the metal detector and then called "here!".  Her dog trotted through the metal detector and it went "beep beep beep".  The TSA pat her dog down (he was still wearing his harness, collar and leash as the law says he has to be on lead all the time and the TSA can't require the girl to take off his harness because she needs it).  After this girl's dog got lots of pets from the TSA agent, they took the girl and the dog to swab her hands.  Once this was done the girl and the dog had to wait for a long time to get their luggage.

You see, this service dog is a very special service dog who eats very special things.  One of the things he eats is probiotics so that he does not have any... gastrointestinal problems out in public.  Apparently, they turned a funny color on the x-ray, so the girl and the service dog had to wait and wait and wait as the TSA got a special chemistry kit to test the probiotics.  From now on the girl remembers to pack them in a suitcase that will be going under the plane.

After collecting their bags, the girl and the service dog were on their way!  (A very different experience than when the agents in Spokane decided the girl was a security threat despite her claims of "I have a disability" and "I have severe Tourette Syndrome" and humiliated her by going through every one of her things and frisking her while she was ticcing and on display for everyone to see).

In San Francisco, the security agents acted like they had never seen a service dog before.  And they were not nice.  The girl had to tell them she needed to go through the metal detector and before she did, Agent #1 tried to make her take off her service dog's mobility harness and leash.  "No," the girl explained nicely, "he is a service dog and I am not required to remove his gear."  Agent #1 acquiesced, the girl put her dog in a down stay, and walked through the metal detector.

This is where this story takes a turn for the worse.  The girl called her dog through the metal detector; beep beep beep!  The agents all paused and turned towards the beeping sound.  "You will need to take off his harness," they said.  "You need to send his leash through the x-ray machine," they called.  "No," they argued, "you have to take the things off!"

The girl was very upset at this point, she knew the rules but nobody around her seemed to know how to do their job.  She explained again and again, "This is my service dog.  You cannot require me to remove his gear, you can pat him down and we will be on our way."  Again, the agents all cried, "No, no, no!  Take off his gear!"  (The girl did not mention to them that they would be breaking their own rules anyway by requiring her to take off his collar and leash leaving her nothing to hold onto him with.)  One agent even tried suggesting, "Take off his collar and leash.  Can't you just hold onto his harness?"

All this arguing drew the attention of the supervisor who rushed over to see what the commotion was about.  Mortified, she told all the agents, "This is a service dog!  You cannot make her take off his gear!"  The supervisor demonstrated how to pat down a service dog (this service dog's favorite part of traveling) and then asked the girl if she needed to swab her hands.  Don't you know the rules? this girl thought as she explained that yes, her hands needed to be swabbed.  The girl and her service dog walked over to get her hands swabbed and again, the supervisor apologized for them not knowing the rules.  As the girl and her service dog walked away they heard the supervisor explaining the rules to all of the agents at the checkpoint.

In Houston, the TSA agent pretended not to see us.  There was a cry of "oh no!" as we approached the metal detector, and the girl and her service dog had to wait and wait to go through.  But nobody waved them through.  So they waited some more, there was a family with a baby going through the metal detector as well, but they were still unloading their stroller.  Surely, the girl thought, I could go through before them?  So she scooted closer.  Still, the agent pretended not to see us.

Finally, another TSA agent appeared, looking quite exacerbated.  She waved the girl and her service dog through (again: down stay, here, beep beep beep) and lo and behold, on the other side of the metal detector, poor TSA agent #1 was pressed in the corner hiding from the girl's service dog!  "He's very friendly," the girl assured the agent who was hiding, but to no avail.  The agent managed to escape through the metal detector into the body scanner and proclaimed, "I'm not coming out until the dog leaves!"  Oy vei, the girl thought.

The girl and her dog had to wait while the agent cried again and again "Animal check please!"  (Why she couldn't do it, the girl did not know).  Finally, another agent came to the girl's rescue, patted down the service dog, and away they went.  (Notice, no hand swabbing here!)

As the girl and the service dog successfully made it through their third security checkpoint of the trip, she thought to herself, Isn't it funny how nobody knows the rules and she wondered why it was that a national organization can't be consistent with their training and protocol.

* * * * *

Katherine & Owen's suggestions for traveling with a service dog:

*The TSA cannot require you to remove your dog's gear (which includes mobility harness, vest, collar, leash, etc.).  I think there is a rule about bags attatched to their gear; for example, I have ordered a bag that will attach to the back of Owen's new harness with velcro.  In it, I anticipate carrying keys, credit cards, my phone, and a few other things.  This I would be required to remove and send through the x-ray machine because it comes off easily and is more of a "bag" than required gear.  Whether you remove the gear is up to you - some people do because they feel it will be quicker to send it through the x-ray machine instead of waiting for a pat down (if you do this though, make sure you have a slip lead instead of the usual collar/leash combo as the metal will set off the detector anyway, which requires a pat down, negating the removal of the gear in the first place).  I choose to keep O's gear on because it is easier for me.  I can use his harness all the way up until I walk through the metal detector and he is there and ready to work as soon as I call him through.  Taking it off and then putting it back on through security would be very high stress for me and would leave me without my balance aid until we managed to get through the TSA.  At least this way I can hold onto the harness while we wait for Owen's pat down and while I get my hands wiped down.

*Go through the metal detector separately from your dog.  The rules are, whoever sets off the metal detector gets a pat down.  So if I go through and set it off, I get pat down.  If Owen goes through and sets it off (which he does), he gets a pat down (and let me just say, his pat down is no where near as invasive as the human pat down - Owen loves this part of traveling because he gets "pets").  If though, I am holding his leash and go through the metal detector and either of us set it off, we both get pat down.  What I do - which is what Darcie and I practiced during team training - is tell Owen to "down" right in front of the metal detector and then tell him to "stay".  I go through first (I have no idea how people "send their dogs through" ahead of them) and then call Owen through with "here".  To make life easier for both of us (so I don't have to go searching on the floor for his leash because the stinker won't hand it back to me) is tie his leash in a loose knot to the handle on his harness.  Once through, Owen and I wait for his pat down together.

*Your hands should be swabbed down.  If they aren't (like in Houston), it is a lapse in security.  The new regulations stipulate that while service dog handlers are not subject to a pat down - unless, of course, they set off the metal detector - they do get their hands swabbed for explosives (or whatever else they're looking for).  It is good practice to wash your hands before going through security *just in case*, but honestly I've forgotten to do so all three times we have been through security and have had no problems.

*Go potty right before security!  That is, take your service dog potty...  For me, once I get through security, I am not doing it again (unless it is a long travel day and we have a layover that gives us enough time).  Owen and I check in (and check our luggage) and then find a potty spot for him.  Don't trust that the gate agents (or anyone else for that matter) will know where it is, I have an app (Service Animal where to go) that gives a list of airports in the US and tells where their animal relief stations are.  For someone who is directionally challenged (like me) it is somewhat useful, but at the one airport where we didn't already know where it was, we just wandered around outside until we found some grass.  (Not to be weird or anything, but the animal relief spots are normally not clean and even if they are relatively clean, they have a lot of "good" smells and Owen doesn't want to focus anyway.)

*Ice is a-okay in Owen's book.  The first two flights we took were evening flights so Owen slept the whole time.  The third flight was a morning flight though and while he slept, he was definitely napping more than sound asleep.  He sat up and visited with me and my dad a few times and tried to follow me out into the aisle when I went to go to the bathroom (I thought he was sleeping!).  The flight attendants were superb and kept asking if we needed anything; we got some ice for O about halfway through the flight and he was happy to munch on the ice.  It helps the dogs feel less dehydrated but (as long as you don't give a lot) it won't fill up their bladder too much.  This was on a four-hour flight though where I knew he hadn't had much water in the morning and I hadn't had a chance to offer it in the airport before our flight.  On the shorter trips, I wouldn't offer anything until we landed.

*Paperwork.  Owen and I encountered no paperwork issues (except in the United lounge where we got chased down and asked for his "paperwork, ID, or vest" when they learned he wasn't a guide dog...).  The airlines are not allowed to ask me for anything if he is clearly marked (mobility harness) and if he is acting appropriately and my word is "credible".  If he wasn't marked or they felt like his behavior wasn't appropriate, they could ask me for proof that he is a service dog (I have a doctor's note and his paperwork from Heeling Allies).  However, current regulations say that if you are traveling with a Psychiatric Service Dog (PSD), you will need to provide a doctor's note.  To this I say, just don't tell them it is a PSD.  Seriously...  The rule makes no sense and I've heard of other people having their doctor's contacted by airlines looking for information (anybody ever heard of HIPPA?).  It's obviously up to the handler, but we just called the airlines and said I would be traveling with a service dog, they added him to the reservation, and that was it.  Nobody related to the airlines or security asked for anything else.  (But I had stuff just in case.  No, I shouldn't have to present it.  But I would rather present it and make my flight and file complaints later, than miss my flight because they were stubborn.)  I haven't encountered it yet, but if you have a problem, apparently the magic words are: "I want to speak with the Conflict Resolution Officer (CRO)".

*Be confident.  Square your shoulders and hold your head up high.  And act like you know what you're doing.  Even if you've never flown once.  In SFO I (smoothly) told the agent, "Well, they have swabbed my hands every time we have flown..."  Even though we had only flown once at this point.  Say things in a calm, yet firm manner (i.e.: "This is a service dog.  You cannot make me remove his gear."), even if you have to say it ten times.  Act like you know you belong even if you have never done it before.  This gives people less time to think about you and whether or not you are a legitimate team, leading to less conflict on your part.

*Practice elevators!  Ha!  I almost forgot this one.  Owen does not like elevators.  He decided they were "okay" during training when he practiced them with a dog who knew they were okay.  However, he still is not a fan.  He will try and balk sometimes at the gap between the elevator and the floor, and he braces himself when the movement starts.  Apparently, in Owen's world, elevators and plane doors are quite similar.  There is a gap in the floor and you are walking from one place where you have lots of room into (what appears to be) a very small, enclosed space.  The first plane ride, Owen balked big time and I was not expecting it.  I made a fool out of myself going "Let's go Owen, good boy, let's go, Owen here!" in this super high-pitched, up-beat voice.  And once he got on we partied it up.  The second time, I was prepared with food, and while he hesitated, with the treats he went over the gap without too much drama.  Then, we were in Texas for a while.  One day, about halfway through our trip, we went to get on an elevator and Owen hesitated.  I got him on and it started clicking in my head.  Every chance we got after that, we rode elevators (which was a lot of chances as we were at the airport dropping people off and at malls).  The third time we went to go on the plane, Owen walked on.  No problem.  We will be practicing elevators at school to make sure he remembers that they aren't a scary place.  I'm not saying every dog who has never flown needs to do this, but it seems to be my ticket to making sure Owen is happy to go on airplanes.

UPDATED TO ADD (tips from our fourth flight):

Somethings about the actual flight I forgot to mention.

*Owen and I use a mat on the planes.  Darcie recommended (and we got) an orthopedic bath mat from Costco.  It's made of memory foam and (because it's a bathmat) it is water repellant on the bottom - so if we were somewhere and there was something spilled on the floor, using the mat Owen wouldn't get wet - and has grips on the bottom to help Owen keep from sliding.  It isn't good for a service dog to be in one place unmoving for a long time (like a plane ride or movie), but the orthopedic bath mat helps a lot.  Owen loves it, he tries to beat me to it everytime I unroll it.  I have to make him "wait" (and say it like I mean it) until I get it unrolled where I want it.  Because trust me, once he's on top of it, I can't move it one inch!  This also helps Owen know where he is supposed to stay on the plane; on this last flight we took by ourselves (ie. no family members in the seat next to us in case Owen wanted to sprawl out), he tucked in the space right in front of me, barely creeping into the seat next to us.  If Owen - my big, blocky, 80-pound Labrador - can fit, most other dogs could too.

*Where you sit is a personal choice; here's what Owen and I do.  We sit in bulkhead; this is highly debated amongst the service dog community.  About half of the people will tell you that bulkhead is the best, and about half will say that it's the worst.  The argument being that if you don't sit in bulkhead, your dog has the space underneath the seat in front of you and the little bit of room under your seat.  I like bulkhead though; I fly on pretty little planes and I'm very dubious that Owen could fit in a regular seat.  In bulkhead, I can fit Owen where my feet would go and then put my feet up against the flat wall in front of us.   Before we sit down, I throw Owen's mat and whatever I want to do on the flight into the seats (usually a book and my phone).  I put everything else up into the area above the seats (as there is nothing else that will fit with Owen and me) and then I unroll his mat.  I tell Owen to "go to his place" and then arrange myself around him, afterwards moving all of my things into my seat.  We sit in the window seat - it gives us a little bit more room, and I know once we are situated there is no reason we will need to move until the flight is over.

*Preboard.  This one is short and sweet.  Make sure your service dog is on your reservation (call ahead - we forgot on this last flight and they added Owen for us when I checked my bags) and then after you get through security, go straight to the gate agent and ask for a "preboard slip".  On Southwest, it is a little blue plastic sleeve.  We didn't actually get one when we flew United because we were flying first class (so we could board first anyway), and when they called for preboarders, we just walked on anyway.  On one of the United flights the gate agent came to check with me before the flight to see if we needed assistance getting on the plane.  Which leads to our next suggestion.

*Take your time to get situated and do whatever it takes to get that.  You are a passenger with a disability who is traveling with a service dog.  I refuse to let myself get rushed by other passengers (basically as soon as the preboarders have gone through to go to the plane they will "release the masses").  If I'm travelling with somebody else I enlist their help to stand in the aisle and block people from crowding me (they can also help with putting luggage up which removes one thing I have to worry about).  When we travelled by ourselves, I purposefully put Owen in the aisleway so that nobody could get by.  We were working to get him situated and the stinker jumped onto his mat, wrinkling it up so that he wasn't actually laying on it at all, nor was he where I wanted him to sit.  I started to get him up to move him and the flight attendant asked if we were ready.  Lo and behold I turned around to see her blocking any other passengers from getting on the plane.  I was so excited.  She waited until Owen and I were ready to let everyone else on the plane; it made everything so much easier.  Don't let somebody pressure you into rushing your dog into his place; it's more important to me to make sure that Owen is situated and comfortable, than that everyone get on the flight two minutes faster.

*What to do with gear.  We've done everything; on our first flight I swapped Owen's harness out for his vest so that he was "marked".  It was a waste of time.  On the second and third flights, which were about 4-hours each, I removed Owen's harness and we put it up with our other carry-ons.  Because we were traveling with family, once the pilot gave the signal that we were "beginning our descent" my dad would get up and retrieve the harness.  I dressed Owen, putting the harness on as loosely as I could make it, and then put him back in his seat.  This worked well with somebody else there so we could maneuver around.  On our fourth flight though, I was by myself and it was a small plane.  Because it was a short flight and I knew that Owen had worn his harness much longer (like at the movies), I chose to loosen it as much as I could, and leave it on.  If the flight were any longer than it was (right under 2 hours), I would not do this.  I would likely remove it as we are getting situated, and then ask a flight attendant to retrieve it for us before we land.  I would hold onto it until the other people in my row left, then I would stand Owen up and get him dressed.

And just a word of caution; don't expect anybody to know where the service animal relief center is.  I take Owen out to potty after checking our bags but before we go through security.  I've never found an employee who knew where the grass was, so I "scout out" the situation before we head into the airport, and I make sure I have enough time to find a potty spot for Owen.  Sometimes (Houston) it can take a while.

Any questions we didn't answer about traveling?  Ask us!  Owen and I will be happy to share our travel experiences; after all, we are seasoned travelers already. :)

Priceless

3 airline tickets: hundreds of dollars and thousands of travel points

Suitcases brought with us: two for the human, one for the dog

Number of panic attacks in Texas: 0

Times we heard the cry of "doggie doggie doggie!": countless

Number of migraines in Texas: 0

Places we went in Texas: too many to count (at least 2 or 3 a day)

Number of times Owen did deep pressure tasks: (at least) 20

Keeping your sanity during a family reunion?  Priceless.

I love my family, but 10 days in one house with 8 people, one baby, two dogs, and one puppy...  It can get a little stressful at times.

Owen and I did so much and went so many places and I had no migraines and no panic attacks.  I was able to go places all day long (one day I even woke up at 5:00 with Owen and we were out until 11:00 at night!).  We went to the Galleria (think mall on steroids) in Houston, we went to church, and even went to the Nutcracker ballet!  Never could I have ever thought I would have been able to keep up with my family like that without the crashes I used to experience.

Owen did great on the airplanes, but I'm planning on making our travel stories their own post entirely.

Here is our trip, told through pictures!  I know there are more pictures somewhere and I'll add them to our facebook page when I get a hold of them.  Enjoy!
 

Luckily we were at this restaurant at a really off time because Owen was nowhere near out of the way!  The servers were really great and kept telling me not to worry about moving him because "he was sleeping".  I am still working on figuring out the best places to put Owen when we go out so that he is as much out of the way as possible; I know it's all me though.  Owen can curl up really small when he needs to!

Snoozing at lunch in Houston with a family friend - Owen attracted lots of attention here, we had people come talk to us at our table and as we were leaving I heard one man tell his wife, "See! I told you there was a dog here!"

We started playing a game when we went out places, trying to get pictures of Owen with things balanced on his head while he slept - we weren't very successful with the picture taking, but you can balance a lot on Owen!  For those of you not "in-the-know", Pappasitos is a hugely popular Tex Mex chain in Houston, the food is phenomenal and it is always crazy busy.  I was so proud of Owen here, with all the people, smells, and food on the floor, he just curled up and went to sleep!

Owen's at the Houston Ballet!  We saw the Nutcracker while we were in Houston; I was a little worried about how Owen would act with the music, but he slept through it!  In fact, he slept so well that during the first act he was whimpering in his sleep and during the second act he started snoring and grumping!  The people around us who didn't see us sit down were very confused!  The children were great, I heard lots of parents explaining that he was a service dog and was working, and I had one little girl ask me very politely to pet Owen (I had to say no as there were hundreds of little kids and I wasn't about to open that can of worms!).  The adults on the other hand, were not so great.  But I'll talk about that later.

Road trip!  My mom, Owen, and I drove out to Katy (about 20 minutes from Houston) to look at the area.  Katy has a great school district and is really good for special education and I'm hoping to apply to work there (along with some other districts) for this upcoming school year.  Owen snoozed the whole trip and when we got home he looked confused as if to say, "Why are we back home?  Did I miss something?"

 

Owen and I also had breakfast with a principal of the elementary school I went to when I lived in Houston.  It was great getting to meet with her and she is going to help me get my resume out to different schools in the Houston area, hopefully in a few months we will be back in Houston interviewing!  The tables were quite interesting at this restaurant, and there wasn't really room underneath for Owen, but he found a spot.  Wedged between the pole and the wall! (Don't worry, he didn't sleep with his head smooshed like this the whole time, I don't know what he was thinking!)  When it came time to leave, I had to move the table so he could get out!  He took the opportunity while I couldn't reach him to hoover up some crumbs on the floor.  Whoops!

Probably Owen's favorite part of the trip was getting to meet (and love on) lots of little kids.  Almost every night we had people over to my grandparent's house and they brought their kids.  This is Owen's favorite little girl "making sure he stays" while I got his dinner ready.  She then remarked while he was eating, "Wow, he's a really good eater." :)

New year, new plans

I am not a fan of new year's resolutions.  I hated having to write them as a kid, and I haven't come up with any in a long time.  I live my life without regretting past decisions.  Everything I have done, everything I have lived through, has made me into this person I am today.  For better or for worse, there is nothing I can do to change that.

And the idea of a resolution is that you are resolving to do better at something next year.  As if the past year was a mistake.  Or you didn't try hard enough.

Instead, this year, I am going to write where I see myself a year from today.  What I hope to accomplish this year, instead of what I want to change. 

In one year I want to be a teacher.  I already am technically, I spent a year student teaching and I have my teaching credentials.  But in one year I want to have my own classroom.  I want to have a "real" job as a teacher.  I want to have students whose lives I can impact.  I don't know where I will be.  Before this trip to Texas, I would have said without a shadow of a doubt, I would be in a public school setting, hopefully at an Elementary school working with kiddos with severe developmental disabilities.  Now though...  I'm not quite sure.  I knew Texas had a lot of services for children with special needs, but I didn't realize quite how many.  There are private schools and special centers specifically for students with special needs here.  So then I have to weigh the options; do I work in a public school - dealing with all the paperwork and hassle with being a government employee and the struggling school system - and make more money?  Or do I work in a private school where I may not have as many "hassles" to deal with, but where I would make significantly less money...  I don't know.  I'm hoping to apply to many different schools, possibly including both public and private, and I'm confident in the fact that the right school will be made apparent.  A school where I feel comfortable with what they are doing, where I will be able to use evidence-based curriculum, where I like the team I will be working with, and where the principal is comfortable with me and Owen working as a team.

Next January 1st will mark one year that Owen and I will have been working together.  One year is the magic number; experienced teams say it takes one year to find your groove and to really work efficiently as a team.  Now, I find things where I don't know what to do.  We went out to a restaurant yesterday, and we asked to sit at a table in the back.  It was a large table, but we were a large group.  I put Owen on his mat behind my chair, where he fell asleep and sprawled out.  We weren't in anybody's way, because there was nobody else there, but I felt funny about having Owen in such a "in-the-way" spot and I wasn't really sure where I would have put him had the restaurant been busy.  But until I figure all these things out, I'm just going to square my shoulders and hold my head up and pretend like I know what the heck I'm doing.

Hopefully in one year, I won't be pretending anymore.

In one year I want to have an answer regarding my weight.  I want to know one way or the other if the pills caused metabolic damage.  I want to know if there is something medicine can do to help me, or if I am on my own.  Either answer I am okay with, but I need to know.  Owen and I will be going to a slew of doctors in the next two weeks, one of which is the doctor who can hopefully answer this question for me.  One year from now, I want this not to be something I am still looking for an answer to.

One year from now I will hopefully still be celebrating the holidays with my family, but I am hoping to have moved back to Texas and not be celebrating with a white Christmas.  Neither Owen nor I are a fan of the snow; I think we will both be happier somewhere where it doesn't snow and keep us cooped up inside all winter.

I wish I could say that in one year I will be done with school.  But, it is looking likely that if I come back to work in Texas within my first year of teaching I will need to add an ESL certification to my repertoire to work here.  But, in one year I will have both a teaching certification and a behavioral analyst certification.  I will be a board certified behavioral analyst (BCBA) which is a nationally recognized certification.  I am hoping that in a year I will have one (or more) papers published in peer reviewed journals.  This summer I am hoping to be going to the international Applied Behavioral Analysis conference in Minneapolis (with Owen of course!) to present two poster presentations on research projects I have done.

I have a lot to look forward to this year.  Tomorrow, Owen and I get back on an airplane to end our Texas trip and go back to California for two weeks.  I'm not looking forward to all of the doctor's appointments we have lined up, but I know it is a necessary evil.  And hopefully I can get one step closer to finding some answers.  After that we are back to Spokane to finish graduate school and start applying for jobs (yikes!).

Happy New Year!!

One Year

Exactly one year ago I wrote this.

I put myself out there and came out to my family and friends about something in my life I hadn't wanted to talk about.  A year is a long time.  On one hand, I can say: "Wow, it took a whole year to get Owen!  I thought we would have been here a lot sooner..."

Or, I can say: "Wow, all of this in just one year!" (This is how I have been feeling lately.)

One year ago, the majority of my friends and extended family had no idea what I was living with.  One year ago, the idea of a service dog was a dream.  Something I was wishing for.  Today, it is a reality.  Today, I am open about what I live with.  I share things with both my family and my friends about my disability and the hardships it brings.  And I am walking tall with a service dog.

In one year I have become a teacher.  I don't have my own classroom yet, but hopefully one year from now I can be writing that instead.  In one year I have graduated Magna Cum Laude from college and begun my graduate career.  A year from now, I will hopefully be writing that I graduated (dare I say it?) Summa Cum Laude from graduate school and that I have finished my thesis.  In one year I have flown on airplanes 11 times, twice with a service dog.  Next year, it's possible I will be on more flights (what with having to travel for job interviews and moving), but all will be with my service dog.  In one year, I hope to be able to write that I took a cruise with my service dog, something I have been looking forward to for a long time.  In one year, I have found inner peace.

With Owen, I feel at peace.  I'm not terrified to go out in public anymore because I know that Owen will help me when I need it.  He takes care of me.  Owen follows me around like a shadow, always there just in case I might have a chance to give some pets.  He makes me laugh on a daily basis, and I have to take care of him, which means leaving the apartment (or house) multiple times a day.  I feel safe with Owen.  I don't have to rely on family members anymore as mobility support.  I don't have to ask them to do things for me that I want to be able to do myself.  And I have a way of gaining back my peace when my brain threatens to take it away.

I wrote back at Thanksgiving time, all the things I was thankful for, and they all stand true now.  Part of me feels like Owen was a missing puzzle piece.  He fit right in immediately, it was like he was always there sleeping next to me at night and waking me up in the morning.  He and Toby acted like they had lived together their whole lives.  The other part of me feels like I still can't believe this is real.  Like I can't believe that I'm actually with my service dog and that I feel safe and strong going places with him.  I wonder when that feeling of newness will wear off, but I kind of hope it doesn't.  I love waking up with Owen everyday, and I'm excited to go places with him.  It isn't something I dread anymore, it's something I look forward to.  I look forward to seeing how he will handle a new situation and I look forward to running the same easy errands with him that we do all the time, because they're actually easy now.  I love snuggling with Owen and loving on him and getting to know his personality more and more every day.  I love feeling happy.

A lot changes in just one year.

Team Training Recap

The day before team training started I promised to the "internet world" that I would be blogging every day of team training.  I would post photos and share what we did that day.

I have a new promise now.  I promise, to myself, to never again promise to blog for 12 days straight again.  Wow.

I know I will appreciate having this blogged in the future to look back on, and I like to comfort myself in the fact that somebody internet searching "team training Heeling Allies" might find my blog and enjoy reading about my experience.  But I'm done with the daily blogging for a while.

Here is the result of my late-night blogging; in case anybody is interested in having all of these in one place.  I'll pretend like somebody would like having all of these in one place.  Otherwise I just spent every night for the past 12 days blogging for no reason.  I'll pretend like there is a reason.

Day 1: Darcie and Owen are here!

Day 2: Now the Real Training Begins

Day 3: Sit... No... Sit... Good Sit.

Day 4: Classrooms and shopping and giant dogs, oh my!

Day 5: In which we practice more tasks...

Day 6: My Shadow

Day 7: Hi ho... Hi ho... It's off to work we go. 

Day 8: Let's go to the mall! 

Day 9: busy busy busy

Day 10: Surprise!

Day 11: The End

Day 12: On our own now...

On our own now...

Owen and I had our first official day all by ourselves.  We didn't have to check in with anybody, we didn't have to meet anybody for training, we were all alone.  And we were busy.

This morning, Owen and I had to go to the chiropractor.  He was a rock star at the chiropractor, he stayed where I put him and I really needed him afterwards to help me walk out.  Sometimes, when I get adjustments, it makes walking really difficult for a day or so.  Owen did his job perfectly, helping me get back out to the car.

After the chiropractor, we left to go get his dog food.  He eats both kibble and a dehydrated-raw food, and I had only purchased his kibble before he got here.  He lost his mind a little bit in the dog-food store over these giant bones, but other than that he did his job well.  The owner of the store was a little too chatty for my liking, and she was very curious about Owen.  It was the first time he was mistaken for a guide dog puppy today (we would have three misplaced comments by the end of the day).  On a side note, I'm still totally confused about how people mistake my 2.5 year old Labrador (who is giant) for a puppy in training.

After we got Owen's food - he was very relieved - we went to Hobby Lobby.  I want to make a tote for his orthopedic mat that he has for going out before we start traveling.  It's really unwieldy to carry around, and as I'm quickly learning, I need my hands as free as possible to use the harness and steward Owen in the way that I am supposed to.  When I was with Darcie she helped me carry things, and I know I can use my family when we are on vacation, but soon we will be on our own and I will need to be able to juggle everything I need in one trip.  Yikes!

Owen and I had some quality down time at home; because we are still new and figuring each other out, it's important for Owen that he has down time and that I don't push him to work all day.  Eventually, we will build up to a work day, but for right now he isn't supposed to be working all day.

Travel plans never seem to go as planned when you need them to, and my dad's flight was cancelled this evening.  They claim it was because of "weather".  They are lying.  Regardless, he isn't able to get here until tomorrow evening, so Owen and I found ourselves with a night off.

Instead of crashing at home like I might have before Owen, I texted my friend and we went out to dinner.  Owen was fantastic at dinner, I had to hold him back a little bit to keep him from diving under the table before I put his mat under it.  The staff were phenomenal, there weren't any tables where I would have liked to sit (in a corner), so they moved a chair for me so that Owen could fit comfortably under the table.  The other patrons however, were not so phenomenal.  As my friend and I were finishing dinner, a couple sat at the table directly behind Owen and I.  They saw Owen as they came to sit down, and as the man sat down he reached over his chair and started petting Owen!  Without even looking at me or talking to me or anything.  He pretended like he couldn't hear me the first time I said: "Please don't pet him, he is working."  So I had to raise my voice and repeat myself.  The whole time my friend was rolling her eyes.  The man then goes, "Oh, is he a service dog?"

Really?  Like I would just bring my giant dog who is in a mobility harness (which looks a lot like a guide harness to an untrained eye) to dinner with me?  Ugh.  I was more shocked than anything.  I was taught to never ever pet an unfamiliar dog.  And I know that Owen is completely bombproof, but Owen was sound asleep when this guy invaded his space.  I'm sorry, but you are asking for it if you pet an unfamiliar dog while they are asleep.  And yes, by "it", I mean a dog bite.  Owen would never ever bite, but you don't know with an unfamiliar dog, so why would you risk it?

I just can't understand how selfish somebody has to be to think it is appropriate to reach over and pet somebody's service dog (because really, what else would Owen be?  We were at a restaurant for crying out loud).  Did he think I was blind and wouldn't notice?  Did he see a young girl and think I wouldn't speak up for myself?  Did he think at all?

Trust me.  If you touch my dog without asking, you will be hearing from me.  At least he stopped and turned around, and at least my friend and I were almost done with dinner.  I totally ignored him on my way out because I'm sure that my facial expressions wouldn't have been nice given the chance.  I don't respond well to people touching me without me expecting it, and I really don't like people I'm not very familiar with touching me.  It's asking to get hit - if you touch me and I'm not expecting it, it will interrupt the thought process I use to control my tics, and tics will get out of control.  I already view Owen as an extension of myself, so I view touching him as invading my personal space.  And I don't take well to people invading my personal space.

There are a lot of people in the service dog world who embrace the persona of "ask before petting".  I disagree.  Asking implies that I will say "yes", and it puts me in the position of having to be the bad guy and say "no".  And I will say "no".  Every time.  I'm sure that there will be times where Owen can "say hi", and at school in my graduate level classes, after we have gotten into the swing of things, we will probably allow Owen to take a break (take his harness off) to say hi to my friends at school.  But the general public?  Heck no.

Just don't ask.  Admire us from afar.  Comment to whoever you are with about how pretty Owen is or how well behaved he is.  Don't get in his face and tempt him to break concentration.  Don't pet him without even asking me first.  But really... I'd appreciate it if you were able admire Owen from afar and be thankful that you don't have to walk with a service dog.  And let me and my dog do what we are supposed to do.

Owen is totally passed out right now (he worked really hard today) and I'm sitting on the floor next to him because he still isn't allowed up on the couch and he was acting like he wanted some cuddles.  So I obliged.  :)  Toby is on the prowl, he is acting like he wants to follow us outside each time we go somewhere, so I am having to keep a closer eye on him than normal.  He has made it out of my apartment once (last winter).  He made it a few feet down the hallway before he stopped and had the look that said "I think I made a mistake", but lately he is looking like he will make another try of it.  Owen and I are going to bed soon, we are both really really tired.  I had forgotten what it felt like to be tired from actually going places and doing things!  I was thinking about it today, and I realized that in the last week, I have been more places than I had probably been in the last month.  And when I was going places, it didn't involve the hours of mental preparation to get myself out the door and into the car.  Wow!

Owen and I are going to take a short break from blogging, but we will definitely keep you updated on how our travel and vacation goes.  Wish us luck!

The End

Owen is quite skeptical of the snow

Well folks, today is the end.  As of a few hours ago, Owen and I are officially on our own.  We could go anywhere by ourselves and we have nobody to be accountable to.  It's just us.  Darcie is driving back to Seattle tomorrow; the weather is supposed to get really bad Saturday and as much as we both wanted her to be here for one more day, it just isn't smart when Owen and I are completely through with team training.

Tomorrow night, Owen and I will pick my dad up from the airport and then we will go to dinner together; our first restaurant by ourselves.  And then Sunday we take our first flight that starts our whirlwind holiday vacation.

Things with Owen are going really well; I feel like he is already an extension of myself.  It feels natural to be bringing him everywhere with me, and as hesitant as I am to say it, I am already noticing a difference.  I'm hesitant to say this because every other time we thought we had found something that would help, it didn't.  And that let down gets worse every time.  This time though, I am in a better space mentally (if not physically) and I can look at Owen and see him for what he really is.  He isn't a cure.  He helps me to do the things that the Tourette's makes difficult.  And that is the difference.

I am positive we will have setbacks along the way; there will be times where I want to communicate something to him but don't know how.  And times where I am telling him something and he doesn't understand the manner in which I chose to communicate it.  We will both have days where we are tired and don't want to work; and if those days overlap we may just take a mental health day and snuggle at home.

Today felt so easy though; Owen went with me to get my nails done this morning.  Darcie came with us to help us get situated, but she left shortly after.  Then, we went out to lunch with Darcie.  The manager (I think) seemed well-informed, which was nice after yesterday.  She asked me if Owen was a service dog, I said yes, and we ate lunch.  It was a small restaurant with small tables, so it was good to see how to handle Owen in that situation.

Owen and I showed Darcie the two things from yesterday that we needed to re-test and Darcie, Owen, and I hung out for a while.  Eventually though, Darcie headed back to her hotel and Owen and I stayed home.  It's bittersweet in a way; I am so excited to be on my own working with Owen tomorrow, but there was so much buildup to this week happening, that I am sad to see it go.  I can't believe that the end of the year is almost here; by Monday, Owen and I will be in Texas, then back to California, then back to school.

Owen and I shared some cuddles after Darcie left; I finally had my breakdown that I knew was imminent since Darcie and Owen arrived.  It's back to business as usual tomorrow though; I have a chiropractor appointment in the morning that Owen will be going to.  It's the first place we went with Darcie; and it was when she was still stewarding Owen.  This time, I will be by myself and Owen will be in the rooms the whole time with me.  We have some errands to run afterwards - I have to pick up his dehydrated food he eats because we are almost through the stash Darcie gave us and it's back to Hobby Lobby yet again for some last minute craft needs.  Then we'll have some downtime at home before heading to the airport.  I promised Darcie that we would go to the airport early (the one thing we didn't get to in team training was an airport visit) with treats to work with Owen.  My anxiety spikes immediately upon entrance to the airport; I don't even have to be flying.  Because Owen has never been to an airport, tomorrow I will work on making it a positive place to be (with food) so that as we start traveling, he doesn't automatically associate the airport with anxiety.

I'm planning on one last team training post tomorrow, kind of as a summary, and then after a short break from blogging, I'll put up a post with links to all of the blogs and some "best of" photos.