10-wk-old Gabe carrys own leash - 1st time

14-wk-old Gabe carries own leash and follows verbal direction

4-month-old Gabe learning to "Get the remote."

Gabe & Nick Training in Kroger

Gabe Retrieves This & That - 6-months-old

Susan's interview for PetTalk Magazine

August 2007.  In a small diner in Buffalo, Wyoming, I lie on a wooden bench while my husband orders food.   Other patrons stop and look concerned.  One asks if I need help.  No.  The pain in my spine and SI joints is so intense, so searing, that I stop caring what others think.  This will not be the only time I put aside embarrassment to relieve the pain.  I will do anything to relieve the pain. This is what my daughter will remember as the turning point, me lying on the wooden bench in Buffalo, Wyoming.
For the first time the pain blinds me.  All I can focus on is escaping the pain.  It’s another 16 hours to Texas, with an overnight stay.  After a beautiful second summer at a writer’s residency, now I just want the drive to be over.  I’m grateful my husband can endure driving so long because I can’t endure stopping for long.  Pain helps me to remember; it begins to provide the structure to my days.  I cannot bear to stand or even to sit for long, and I go from playing superwoman to leaving many parts of my life behind one by one.  Soon my earlier medical diagnoses shift to spondylitis and a host of secondary conditions and complications that develop.  Unfortunately, mine is a more severe case than most.
It’s like wearing multiple lead aprons, it’s like swimming through molasses.  When pain gnaws through my spine and hip, it may be nearly impossible to move at all.  I postpone reaching for a remote, the phone, a dropped computer mouse, my pillbox—all of which a service dog can do.  When I feel better, there are often tasks I could do with help that I can’t do alone.  With a service dog’s help, I could close doors, do laundry, and work together to put away some items without exacerbating the nerve pain in my shoulders.  I wouldn’t have to wait for my husband to reach some items or do without because I feel guilty and don’t want to interrupt him again.  I wouldn’t have to be completely bedridden from the pain of picking up car keys or my dropped cane—I could instead help make dinner in the kitchen and thus be more active.  I could conserve energy on tasks that are difficult for me so I could use them on more personally important ones.  And I wouldn’t be alone.

When we met with Allie, the service dog’s greeting was unforgettable.  Holding his leash in his mouth, Adam marched past my husband and popped his curly head in my open car door to say hello, his eyes bright and curious.  He was quick to find the person needing help and knew I was the one.  I was so glad to see how others reacted to him—the restaurant and store welcomed him and people’s comments about Adam were positive.  Having the dog with me refocused others away from the wheelchair and gave me a little more space, good for my safety.  Adam demonstrates real intelligence and knows many more commands than an average service dog.  A whole world opened up as I saw how much I’d be able to do.  With the puppy program, we’ll be able to tailor our dog’s tasks very closely to my needs.  Buffalo, Wyoming, represented one turning point for me.  I hope and believe that a service dog will be another turning point, one toward more independence and inclusion.