Friday, February 13, 2015

Service animals

I am not a dog or cat, or rat or bat kind of person. I am not a fan of animals, in general. They just aren't my thing. I do not think they are cute or whatever word you use to describe you pet. Nothing against them, I am sure you love them dearly.

That being said, I have a confession to make. I truly believe service animals for people with PTSD works. And works amazingly.

Three weeks ago, it was 5am in the morning, and I was asleep. My girlfriend had left for work and returned less than 5 mins later.

"Baaaaaaaaaaaaby" - GF(Girl Friend)
"hmph, what?" -Me (not a morning person)
"bebe (pronounce Bee Bee, you know in that GF voice when they want something and they know you'll say no), there's this little puppy out in the rain, and it won't leave me alone."
"Ok, have a good day at work... zzzzzzzzz"
"No, bebe it's raining and cold, and wet, and she's starving."
"Ok fine, bring her in here and get her a bowl of water."

Next thing I know I have a 10 pound cocker spaniel puppy wrapped up in a blanket in my arms and I'm half asleep petting it, trying to get her to stop shaking.

Flash forward three weeks, every night as I write in my blogs to work through all of my fears anxieties, paranoias and issues. There's BB(it's a little jab at the GF for waking me up with her GF voice) sitting at my feet waiting for me to finish. When I am done, there she is, paws on my leg staring at me. She won't leave me alone until I tell her I am ok. Everything I have written so far has caused me mild panic attacks. I have even had an episode where I checked out. BB can somehow sense it and refuses to leave me alone til I scratch all of her favorite spots. Then she props her paws up on my leg and stares at me. That is when I know I have to tell her "Thank you BB, I am ok." if I am not she starts the petting session all over. And does this til I promise that I am ok.

As much as I try to post, some days it is harder to do, because of the fears piling up. But BB sits there at my feet, and when it gets truly bad she is the first to nudge me and bring me back. Her weird little bed head rubbing on my arm bringing me back. Her cold nose being that little spark of shock I need to spur my flight back home. And when I am back, she knows it first.

After each post I write, I take her outside, and we relax. She goes does her thing, and comes back and checks on me. Then goes off again. Her mild temper, and relax attitude is just enough for me to say this: I enjoy my dog. She is receptive, and calming. And my little friend.

I do not care what studies people do to try and justify the use of service dogs. I can just tell you, that for me, my dog is my service dog, and she has been there when things got dark, and she lead me back to the light. She found us, and she continues to lead me home.

I can honestly say that without the promise I made to my GF, and BB being my personal emotional first responder all of this would have died out before it began. I am still not a dog person or a cat person, or anything with four legs and fur kind of person. But I am a ladies man, and to my two special ladies, I thank you for pushing me, and pulling me back when I have gone off the deep end.




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