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The Plaza

Wayne and I have been meeting every Friday to do paperwork and pay bills I need to do. He and I are trying to get my Court Fees paid and this past Friday my bus pass so I can get around.  I had taken my disability papers to the Plaza to show them and had forgotten my treat pouch, which normally I am pretty good about putting on my hip.

Malcolm has grown very used to my wearing it lately and having a treat to pop into his mouth with all of the doctor's appointments I have.  He's even gotten used to the amount of new training I have been doing. See, I have been teaching Malcolm to retrieve my rescue inhaler and how to cuddle better and we are about to do some refresh work on the harness.  He gets a lot of extra training where he earns a bit of his meals out of my pouch.

I was tired and the Plaza is noisy and newly laid out, which confused me. I was trying very hard to come to terms with it when an old classmate, Karen, started talking to me and she tends to talk under my hearin…
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Emotional Response

Last Year I was asked to take in a dog who was a "service dog" for a child.  It turned out the dog wasn't suited even for in home service work.  The way I was asked wasn't well done either.  I had said I couldn't take the dog, I wasn't set to take a large dog long term and I wasn't a rescue for every sad story.  A client and friend had been telling of the family and how they were on the edge of loosing the dog if something wasn't done, but I had no intention of becoming involved in a CPS case, especially one which involved a child death, and take a dog on for an undetermined amount of time when I had yet to meet the dog and didn't know if they dog would get along with my other dogs, especially Malcolm.

I had clearly said several times I didn't want the dog.  Please understand this.  I never said I would foster, care for or house this dog.  So, when I was woken on a Sunday and told they were waiting for me to see the dog at the park near my hom…

Bone Broth

This is Malcolm's mom.  I am taking over the blog for a while.  See, recently I started seeing a therapist, something very frightening for me, and he suggested I begin writing again.   I had noted that I wasn't doing my blogs any longer and it was because "Malcolm" didn't have a lot to say.  I do, he didn't.  So here goes.

First, the therapist.  He's a friend who happen to also be a trauma therapist.  We had become friends and over time he had noted that I was emotionally crashing.  I had also, but after a long history of bad, actually emotionally traumatizing, experiences with therapy, I wasn't willing to seek help from just anyone.  At times I would talk to him and I could see he was truly listening and though he didn't offer a "solution" he did make me feel better by just hearing me out and validating my feelings.

In the end, I asked if there was anyway I could work with him or his wife, who happens to also be a working therapist.  …

The Broken Foot

Mom turned 51 this year.  Hard to believe huh?  She's been busy all summer working with Grandma, who turned 67 in September, on the house next door.  I knew things were going weird when Mom spent so much time over at the new place.

For a while Mom trained at Grandma's house and then we trained in Mom's yard and finally at the new place.  It was nice, but still, Mom kept going over with Grandma and working over at the new place.  I could hear the saw and the drill and Max and I could see Mom wander back and forth and she was weaving and stumbling.

One day she was pretty bad.  See, her medication was a bit off and she was stumbling over her words and forgetting things a lot and even starting to sleep off and on when driving.  I had been bump-bumping her with my chin or side of my muzzle to keep her awake in the van when she drove and was walking beside her when she was weaving and forgetful.  Her leg would fold out from under her more and she was at greater risk of falling.…

36 Months: I'm a Dog

Has it really been a year since I spoke to you all?  I am so sorry.  I have been busy trying to keep this crazy woman from killing herself.  Man has she kept me busy.  Let's catch up.

Doctors:

So, I got really good at doctor appointments.  She's been seeing a lot of doctors since her surgery.  I miss the nice lady who called me "Doggy" and worked on Mom's neck.  She said Mom could take off her collar right around November/December and we started to work on getting Mom in to see a cardiologist, audiologist, physical therapist.

The collar was an issue.  Mom had to sleep at a 45 degree angle and Mom was just plain uncomfortable.  She would toss and turn and cry out in pain.  I would do my best, I would lay close to her and she'd rest her hands on me or I'd put my face close to hers and she'd tell me how much she loved that.

It was during this time I learned how to wake her by placing my face on the bed and bumping my chin on the bed.  She loved it and I…

24 Month: After Surgery

On August 27th, 2015 we did our last training with the ambulance.  This time I had no problem with the idea of loading into a running ambulance.  I was also happy to see all of the other dogs an no longer smack talking like I used to do.  Mom made it clear that smack talk was not very service dog like and got me in trouble.

I kissed Kenobe on the face and was even nice to Baer, who I used to not like. He doesn't smell bad  now and Max said I can't be smack talking all of the dogs I am mentoring, it's just rude.  He says if I am going to be helping Mom I just have to give that up and be a good boy and mellow out.

So I hung out with Mom and watched all of the other dogs do their bit with the ambulance, cause Mom is the instructor and wants everyone to get their chance first, and then in we went.  I loaded like a champ, laid right down and then we did something the others didn't.  I got to have the siren run!

How cool was that!  Mom put treats on the floor and the siren …

23 Months: Graduation

I am a service dog!  Mom was talking to Aunt Robin about when she and Uncle Bill would be coming into town to run my Public Access Test and found out another delay had sprung up.  See, Aunt Robin depends on Uncle Bill driving due to her being blind and his work couldn't give him time off to come this way until October.  Mom felt defeated, since the July graduation date had been pushed to September and now to October and truthfully I could hear a tiedness in her voice as she explained that she was waiting to test me out so I could have my In Training patch off.  She was tired of people asking "who is he going to" and "has his person been picked out" questions.  It scared me too.  Was Mom sending me away?  I thought I was Mom's service dog and then I would hear her very defensive and firm statement, "He's MY service dog."

It was so nice to hear Mom claim me with such fever, but I could tell she was tired of having to do so.  People could tell I…