Silver Lining

Photo: www.wallpapersonweb.com

I've had an awful week. There are different degrees of awful; sometimes it means annoying or hurtful, and other times it can mean SO much more. Some weeks seem to be specifically designed to tick all the stress-boxes, and this has been one of them. I don't like to talk about being disabled because I don't like that to be the focal point of my life. Weeks like this force me to stare long and hard at that  'monster' though, and now I'm mad as hell. One of the most difficult parts of being disabled is how vulnerable you are to the foibles and decisions of other people. It doesn't matter how conscientious and careful I am if somebody else's wrecking ball (accidental or intentional...same effect) can still trash my situation. And that's terrifying, because it's MY family that has to live with the mess. I've had a horrid week. It should be over by now, it really, really should, but it isn't. It's that last part that I can't live with.

Okay, I'm done whining. I won't lie and say I didn't call my mommy and cry to her like a freaking baby. I won't lie about the repeat performance I treated my daughter and my bestie to, either. I don't do 'helpless' well, and patience isn't a virtue I have (and in a situation like this it shouldn't be a virtue I NEED). But the emotional piece is now on a slow, rolling boil that I can live with (or make some tea from) and I have the grey matter reengaged.

What have I learned from this? Isn't that the point? What is the silver lining? Well, I've learned that I have options. Had I not been backed into a corner, I wouldn't have had the conversations that led me to that awareness. There's real value in that. Those conversations led to connections. More value. Sometimes the best new ideas are born from the lowest moments.  Well, DUH! Isn't In Stone the best lemonade I ever made (so far!)? I know how to make constructive use of adversity; it's like some magical kind of alchemy we all have access to. Sometimes being forced to consider one's options is the best thing that can ever happen to a person. I was also made aware of what I DO have, and that is a fabulous network of supportive people. It's easy to take those folks for granted, but times like these remind me that I am loved. There is nothing more valuable than that!

One of my friends likes to talk about how the world isn't fair and you have to take what you can get, but I don't accept that. Frankly, that's just pessimistic BS. But once upon a time I subscribed to that. And I tried to be polite and fair to my own detriment. It has lead to a lot of hardship for me. My mother always said that I was the only one who could change it, but I was always so afraid of being unfair or mean. While I believe that no matter what others do, it is our own behavior we are responsible for, I have learned that it's perfectly okay to advocate for yourself. I want EVERYBODY to win, to be happy, to be successful, secure, etc. But I also want those things for myself. I deserve those things. If I don't make decisions that honor that, or if I'm always saying "oh, well that's good enough" so as not to offend, I fail to make myself a priority. Certainly nobody else is, so if not me, then who? Something to think about. Life can't always be about settling and getting by. You know? I'm sure some of you do.  But if you accept that, then that's all there will ever be.

I'll get through this. I guess that is my point. People survive terrible things. I hail from the sunflower tribe, so I won't be kept down long. Sometimes bad things happen, even we do everything right. What do we take from it? What do we learn? Oh so preachy today! Even so, I hope you all are having a great week, and at the very least, are proficient at making lemonade :-)

Gun Control

A musket, popular when the constitution was written

I don't have a strong opinion one way or the other about gun control. Maybe it's because my life has never been ruined by gun violence. Maybe it's because I live in a  state with very few gun laws (except those pertaining to hunters) and very little gun violence. Most gun-related death here in Vermont (knock on wood) is the result of  a hunting accident. I don't know if we're lucky or smart. I just know that living in this sort of environment has provided me the luxury of not needing to have a strong opinion. It's not a luxury that everybody has. Even so, as I peruse Facebook (okay, yeah. I spend too much time on Facebook). I don't see much in the way of anti-gun propaganda, but I see tons and tons of pro-gun stuff. It seems a bit unbalanced (an appropriate word in many ways;-). There are so many angry people reacting strongly to a situation that isn't really even a 'thing'.

Okay, a bit of advice here: If you want to make an argument against gun control, you may want to avoid the following: Threats of violence, joking about shooting people for being on your lawn, comparing guns to cars or pencils or any other inane and irrelevant comparison that screams "I SO don't get it!"; over-the-top rage, expressions of bunker-mentality, anti-government and conspiracy references, hyperbole to make a point (eg, "Obama's gun ban" doesn't actually exist, so referencing it angrily and repeatedly makes you sound, um...let's go with 'uninformed') or really anything that may imply you are mad as hell and have no impulse control. I'm just sayin'. There's nothing that says "guns are a bad idea" quite like an angry, reactive person holding a gun (or threatening to hold one).

I believe in the second amendment, I believe in the spirit of the second amendment too. But we have to remember that when the constitution was written, the weapons at our disposal were very different. Our culture was very different. Let me be clear here that I haven't researched the numbers and this is all just opinion, but we have do something. I mean, this is sort of ridiculous if you think about it; we react to everything that is potentially dangerous to the point of redundancy, but we can't touch an item that is actually intended to cause bodily harm without a whole bunch of folks having a total meltdown. Are we really so immature and ridiculous that we can't have a productive and rational discussion about potential solutions? I don't think ANYBODY is suggesting disarming citizens, and it's not something I would support either. But do average citizens need to have access to weapons designed to do maximum damage in a combat situation? I don't think so. In fact, I can't think of a rational argument (remember I said rational) to support such a scenario, but I can think of several reasons 'why not' (as can the families and friends of victims of the many mass slaughters that have occurred in this country in the last several years). Yes, you can kill someone with a car, or a pencil, or hell, even dental floss if you are so inclined. But you can't mow down a room full of innocent people in under a minute.

I don't have a lot of respect for people who like to come across all "bad-ass" because they have guns. It doesn't take a great deal of either 'bad' or 'ass' to own a firearm and threaten someone with it. I do respect people who can solve their problems rationally, guns or no. I respect people who think before they react, who try to see both sides of an argument and who have enough common sense to work through issues and help find solutions. I respect people who can form their own opinions and don't need a well-funded special interest group to feed their opinion to them, even if they happen to be members of the aforementioned group.

We have a lot to think about in this country right now. We have a very real problem with violence. I don't believe that guns are the cause, but they are certainly a means of facilitation. Their misuse is a symptom of a much larger problem that needs to be addressed and some emergency action needs to take place on several fronts, guns included. We can't do anything though, if we aren't even willing to have an open discussion.

The High Cost of Profiting from Fraud

I don't want to be angry today. It's an encouraging, hot, sunny day in a long line of encouraging, hot, sunny days. It's a Saturday, the day that others are out and about so we are in and chillin' in the AC. Murphy and I enjoyed a nice mani-pedi this morning (neither of us like polish) and I have a nice, strong pot of fresh coffee keeping me motivated. It's summer time, and the livin' is easy. But I'm not just angry, I'm P***ed. I often find myself so when I see someone profiting from fraud, especially when it's at my expense (and at the expense of others like me) Call me crazy. Today's perpetrator is a company called Free My Paws, who claim to be "the resource for service animal owners". There are LOTS of companies that sell gear for service dogs, so what's so wrong with this one?

First, a little background. The service dog "industry" is largely unregulated. This has been found necessary because of the wide range of needs of legitimately disabled handlers. Imposing specific tests on SD/handler teams would mean that some folks with significant need would be unable to have a SD. Even so, it is widely accepted that wherever it is possible, a service dog should complete a Canine Good Citizen test to determine suitability prior to beginning their service dog training and take a Public Access Test at the direction of a professional trainer to ensure that the dog is ready to work outside the home. Generally speaking, disabled folks who rely on service dogs work very hard at ensuring that their dogs can perform as needed, and do so without public inconvenience.

As I mentioned, there are many companies that cater to the needs of service dog handlers. They provide goods to better facilitate the team, and in general, make life easier. They don't ask for any kind of verification either. The difference here is, they don't tell you how to pass off your pet as a service dog just so you can take them everywhere with you. Free My Paws does, and they seem to have no problem at all with what they are doing. Check out this video: Free My Paws website video . There is so much wrong with this I don't even know where to begin.

Let's start with the Q&A section (which is, btw, exceptionally offensive to folks who have legitimate disabilities, pretty much ensuring that only fraudulent users are going to shop FMP)

If you yourself would like to perpetrate fraud, be warned. These folks gloss over some pretty important points in order to convince the pet-owning public that anyone can take their dog anywhere, it's easy. I won't go down the whole Q&A list, but I'll pull out some of the more disgusting examples:

Q: What is a Service Animal?
A. The ADA defines a Service Animal as any Guide Dog, Signal Dog, or other animal individually trained to provide assistance to an individual with a disability, so long as the person’s disability falls under the ADA’s definition of physical or mental impairment or condition.

Wrong.


Here is the ADA's definition (as found here):
"Service animals are defined as dogs that are individually trained to do work or perform tasks for people with disabilities. Examples of such work or tasks include guiding people who are blind, alerting people who are deaf, pulling a wheelchair, alerting and protecting a person who is having a seizure, reminding a person with mental illness to take prescribed medications, calming a person with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) during an anxiety attack, or performing other duties. Service animals are working animals, not pets. The work or task a dog has been trained to provide must be directly related to the person’s disability. Dogs whose sole function is to provide comfort or emotional support do not qualify as service animals under the ADA."

As much as FMP would like to gloss over the "training, work and task" part to encourage "Joe pet owner" to just throw a vest on his pet dog, that part is the essence of a service dog. Yes, they do mention "training", but they don't elaborate and they stop short of discussing the severity and reality of actual disabilities.


Here's my favorite:
Q: I don’t think I am disabled, so do I qualify?
A: You may not think that you’re disabled—yet, you still may be legally “disabled” under the ADA. Just go through our Disability Self-Assessment Test which tracks the ADA’s definitional hoops.

Are you F'ing kidding me? Believe you me, folks with disabilities that are severe enough to warrant the assistance of a service dog are not asking themselves this question. FMP has to know that, but they don't care. They encourage people to find an excuse, a reason that entitles them to take their pet wherever they go. It's no better than "I have a touch of asthma sometimes, I'm entitled to park in a handicapped spot".


And this, the real purpose of these folks:
Q: Does my ID Card expire? A. Yes, the ID Cards are valid for 1 year. In order to remain compliant with most transport administrations requirement that documentation be current within one year, we require our clients to renew their IDs each year. Note that the same rules may also apply to any Doctor's certificates you provide airlines when travelling. If you purchased your ID as part of a kit, an ID renewal is available for $19.99 per annum (normally $39.99).

Guess what folks, as any legitimate service dog handler will tell you, ID cards are NOT NECESSARY.

From the ADA: When it is not obvious what service an animal provides, only limited inquiries are allowed. Staff may ask two questions: (1) is the dog a service animal required because of a disability, and (2) what work or task has the dog been trained to perform. Staff cannot ask about the person’s disability, require medical documentation, require a special identification card or training documentation for the dog, or ask that the dog demonstrate its ability to perform the work or task.

Even so, ID cards can make life easier. And they can be purchase at any service dog store for about $20. And they don't expire. At least they mentioned a letter from a doctor, which DOES need to be current within one year. While medical documentation of the specifics of your disability are not allowed, if you want to travel it is expected that you provide a letter from your doctor stating that you are disabled and require a service dog. I'm sure there are doctors who have no problem at all with lying, but at least this requirement makes it more difficult for the fakes. Not only does a person need to have a disability under the law, they must have a DOCUMENTED disability, and a doctor's letter confirming this. Nobody is allowed to ask what the disability is, but you must have proof. In my experience (and I fly with my dog regularly), transportation agencies are far more concerned with doctor-verification than with some ID you purchased online.


I guess the most reprehensible part of what Free My Paws is doing, is exploiting the ADA and in turn, risking the rights of legitimate service dog handlers. They are saying (and carefully, within barely legal parameters) "Hey, this is vague enough that YOU TOO may get to experience the joys of bringing your pet with you everywhere, come spend money here and we'll help make that happen". And why is this not okay? Well, the easy answer is because it makes light of the plight of those with legitimate need. But the biggest consequence that I've personally witness is the prominence of ill-mannered "service dogs". Pet owners largely don't grasp the reality of having your dog go with you everywhere, and are unprepared (as are the dogs) for the experience. I have seen dogs licking plates in restaurants, running off-leash at the beach, barking in movie theaters and walking up to strangers for a pat on the head, all while wearing a vest declaring them a "service dog". NONE of this behavior is okay or acceptable while on the job, but it's what the public sees. It's what gatekeepers at businesses see, it's what the travel industry sees. And it makes life that much harder for those with real need, whose dogs are trained and well-prepared for the rigors of public access. If it continues, it may force changes in the laws that could significantly harm the cause of the truly disabled. In short (yeah, I know...too late for that), Free my Paws is doing harm to the disabled community, just to make a buck, and it's reprehensible.


On the upside, fraudulent service dog handlers are frequently 'outed' by their dog's behavior, and the public does have recourse: From the ADA: A person with a disability cannot be asked to remove his service animal from the premises unless: (1) the dog is out of control and the handler does not take effective action to control it or (2) the dog is not housebroken. When there is a legitimate reason to ask that a service animal be removed, staff must offer the person with the disability the opportunity to obtain goods or services without the animal’s presence.

While it's true that real service dogs make mistakes, they are few and far between  and tend to be promptly dealt with by the handler.


I know I shouldn't take the behavior of  Free My Paws so personally, but they minimize the legitimate difficulties of living with a disability by turning it into nothing more than an excuse to take your dog everywhere. It's disgusting, and I wish there was something that could be done about it. I guess the only thing that I or people like me can do is be sure to purchase our equipment from legitimate sources and to spread the word. I know that within our community at the very least, any dog sporting FMP equipment will be immediately identifiable as a fraud.

For want of new feet...

Sexy:-)

 

If you know me, you know I am a walkaholic. I walk for my sanity and I walk to burn off the excess physical energy that builds from my current, unnatural state of horselessness. I walk just to stir the mental pot; there's something about doing a calming and repetitive physical activity that stimulates the mind in a positive way. I walk because it's less frustrating than pacing, because I feel like I'm doing something, getting somewhere. Sometimes I walk because it's all I can do. Except now, I can't.

Apparently, there are consequences (who knew?) to walking obsessively. I suppose there didn't have to be, but I guess I never entertained the possibilities until it was too late. I've always been able to walk forever, and I totally took for granted that it was all good. Enter: plantar fasciitis. The first time I heard those words, I was all "planter wha?". I damaged the muscles in the bottoms of my feet. How stupid is that? I had never heard of such a thing, and now I'm hearing that it's really common. Maybe if I had heard of it before, I could have prevented it. Wearing 'dead' shoes and having high arches (and a big ol' rear-end) are all contributing factors. I could have at least done something about the shoes, maybe. But I didn't. So now it's all about dealing with the "after-ness" of the damage. Damn.

Unfortunately, I also tend to subscribe to the "work through it" notion of dealing with physical pain. I have had pain in my feet for a year. I iced them after walking. I bought good shoes with special insoles. I took Advil. But I did NOT stop walking. Now, the pain is excruciating and I have no choice. DAMN. Now, I have special shoes to wear when I sleep and I am in physical therapy. Yes, I screwed my own self up that badly. Who does that? Me, apparently (well, and my daughter. She runs and isn't great about taking days off. She ran herself into a stress fracture a couple of years ago. Apparently it's hereditary;-) But as painful as it is, I can't help but think it's kind of funny, too. It's the usual kind of weird and twisted sort of situation that I tend to find myself in. And as if I'm not drop-dead-sexy enough, those special, night-time boots just make me that much hotter. You should see me struggle into them at night. Even better, I'm not supposed to walk on them, so if I have to get up to use the bathroom in the night, I have to take them off first and then struggle into them all over again. Because I'm not my sharpest in the middle of the night, it's no easy task and one that I am thankful there are no witnesses for. The limping around my apartment saying "ow ow ow ow" isn't exactly what I had in mind, either. I am not enjoying myself.

Physical therapy might be a bright light in the distance though. I've had one treatment that was more of an assessment, but they promised it would help...and that I could use the stationary bikes. I am being diligent about doing my stretches and wearing my special shoes, and maybe I can take out 'the crazy' on the bikes. Maybe, just maybe, I can get through my unfortunate incarceration with the shred of sanity that I possess, intact. I am pretty used to being crazy, but not at all used to any kind of physical limitation, and I gotta tell ya, I have no intention of getting used to it.

Until my feet have healed, I will make the best of it, do what I'm supposed to do, and continue to sing "I'm too sexy" to myself every time I boot up for the night, just to remind myself that in spite of current, outward appearance, I'm still fabulous:-)

The meaning of life...sort of

I don't react well to bad news. Okay, that's an understatement. I am the Queen of Totally Freaking Out. It should be bestowed upon me as an official tile. Yes, I really am that good. It sucks, to be honest. The ease with which I panic makes me want to panic. And it really is as dysfunctional as it sounds. Okay, so then what happens? Well, after going completely around the bend, I get logical. That's the part I like.

I got notice today that my rent is going up. I kind of expected that it would, and was already anticipating having to pull another 50 bucks or so out of thin air. I've had numerous and seemingly arbitrary expense hikes over the years; some of them have been life altering, but mostly they just serve to keep the ground ever shifting beneath my feet. Wouldn't want to feel too safe and secure now, would we? Well, maybe not, but I'll come back to that. I think having people shooting each other in my parking lot (one resulting in murder) is enough to tweak anybody's equilibrium all by itself, but it wouldn't be full-on freak-worthy without a rent hike. And this year's rent hike is of the life-altering variety: a whopping $140/month increase (which completely fails to be offset by my $25/month raise). Yes, I know. I'm getting totally hosed. I assure you, I freaked out fully and completely in a manner that would make any bat-sh** crazy, straight-jacketed nut-job (and it's perfectly okay to say that if I am one) person proud. I gave Crazy-town a thorough visit, saw all the sights and the museum, and I even had some coffee at the Crazy-town Cafe. So now what? As tempting as it is to settle in at Crazy town, it totally falls into the "great place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there" category.

Okay, logic time. Cool, Aquarian logic. It's time to go back to survival mode...I've done it before. I don't want to do it again, but as I think I may have mentioned a time or two, my life in it's current incarnation has very little to do with what I want. So why not take it to the extreme? I guess I'm railing against the idea a bit because I thought (okay hoped, but close enough) that by now, I would be in a place where things were getting better, but instead I'm having to let even more go. The stressful part is that there really isn't much left. I thought about giving up food, but apparently that's contraindicated for anyone who wishes to remain alive, and I definitely do. I can't give up the internet because I need it. I can't help but believe that the only way out of this situation is to keep my nose to the grindstone with my writing, and to be persistent. I don't know why I believe that, but it's something that lives on a gut level so I'm going with it. It's the only certainty I have. I also need to learn how to not let the second book become a distraction from finishing up the work on the first. And if that's not bad enough, the ideas for number 3 are already starting to float around like dark little shadows in shallow water; not distinct in shape but definitely present.  Maybe I can escape into my own stories once the stories aren't about me. At least that seems appealing. The first book is my story, I escaped the house in real life so there's no desire to escape into it in fantasy. The second book is purely fiction. The second is whatever I want it to be, and I can't begin to tell you how much that notion appeals to me.

 In the world of my stories, it's all about what I want, unlike my life right now. In the world of my stories, I really have a say, I control what happens. And it's AWESOME. I don't think that's a horrid place to be, and it's one of those things that can't be taken away randomly for some arbitrary reason. It's mine, free and clear. And it will assist me in making my real life mine too, I have no doubt. I can take heart in knowing that no matter what happens, "someday" gets a little closer with every passing moment.

Maybe that's not terribly logical, but this is: I have a roof, I have a bed. I have enough to survive. And yes, Mom, I can move my arms and legs. I have hope, and I have dreams too, and I'm lucky enough to posses tools that just may bring those dreams to fruition. Hey, it's much better odds than playing the lottery;-)

Product Review: Bold Lead Designs Pt. 2

Murphy sports his new harness

   First, let me apologize for the length of time between parts 1&2. My poor daughter has mono, and has been sick for a couple of weeks already. Perhaps that shouldn't distract me quite as much as it has considering she is almost 20, but there's something a little 'overly' about the single parent/only child relationship that I can't quite explain. Anyhoo, now that we know what's wrong I can get on with it:-)

   As much as I believe in words and the power of hyperbole, I can't say enough good about this harness. My first impression when I opened the box was "WOW!". As many of you know, I was a horse person long before I was a dog person. I was a dressage enthusiast (with an eventer daughter) so I have seen and handled my share of high-end horse equipment. When I lifted my new harness from the box I was transported back to a time when I had just received a new piece of expensive tack. The smell of leather was delicious and the quality of the harness was evident from the first glance.

  The leather is smooth and soft with all of the edges beautifully finished. The stitching is tight, neat and even. All of the hardware is shiny and strong and clearly of good quality. It is lined with real sheepskin in all of the appropriate places. There is so much to it, it looks like it should have some weight to it, but it's really quite light-weight. If all I was going to do was look at this harness, it is a thing of beauty. But of course that's not it's purpose, is it?

   As beautiful as it looks, the real beauty is in it's use. Everything is well thought out, the handles are in exactly the right places and it fits my dog perfectly. I have one of those opinionated dogs who is quite particular about his equipment. If something doesn't feel right, he just stands in the center of the room staring at the floor, or running around trying to dislodge whatever it is that irritates him. I have always welcomed his opinion even when it was inconvenient because it is his body, after all. When Murphy first saw the harness, he gave it a tentative sniff and then looked at me like "that's for me, isn't it?". I gave him a treat, put the new harness on and adjusted it, and he was cool with it right away. It was one of those really rare times when there was no adjustment period needed, so clearly the harness is comfortable. Murphy sits, lays down, moves freely, etc. as well as he does when he's naked.

  This harness is exceptionally well-designed. Murphy's initial reaction clearly speaks to it's comfort. There are quick-release buckles (on the correct side of the dog if you work your dog on the traditional left side...awesome!) which makes on/off super easy and quick. The chest piece is high enough not to interfere with the dogs forelegs, and the whole thing is very stable. I have found that just grabbing the sturdy handle in those moments of need kind of short-circuits the vertigo. The pull handle has already gotten me out of a jam or 2, too. I have not fallen at all since receiving the harness, and only had one close call that was staved off by my bracing dog and the sturdy leather handle. Yes, this harness is 'all that', and more:-)

   In addition to the harness I also bought a working dog leash, a harness pack and a couple of patches. Of course all were of impressive quality as well. The leash is beautifully made of leather that matches my harness nicely, it's a perfect weight and has rings in exactly the right places. The patches are two-sided and Velcro back-to-back and fit quite nicely on the harness straps. the graphics are vivid, neat and detailed. The harness pouch is a Sherpani 'Zoe' wallet modified slightly to attach to the harness. It's the perfect size and exactly what I hoped it would be. Katrina suggested I get the pouch in red to match the red accents on the patches and it was a good call:-) The combo looks quite striking on my black dog.

   In my box of goodies there was also a key ring, and clip-on service dog button and most importantly, an envelope with an owner's manual outlining correct adjustment and fit, cleaning how-to's, and helpful tips about introducing the dog to the harness and harness use. Once again, I am as impressed by the support as I am by the beautiful harness. I have no trouble at all recommending Katrina and her company Bold Lead Designs. If you want great service, high-quality equipment that does exactly what it's supposed to and ongoing and friendly support, there's nobody better:-)

Product Reveiw: Bold Lead Designs, Pt. 1, the experience

   A few weeks ago I published a blog lamenting my inability to move forward on several levels ("Getting Around", March 5). That was not a great place to be. Not only was I having car issues, but the severity of my vertigo had increased to an alarming degree causing me to fall on my butt a couple of times. I don't know how to fully express the horror of knowing you are going to fall, grabbing something you think will support you and having it slide out of your grip on the way down. My "safety line" failed.

   I have an awesome service dog. He knows how to warn me and he knows how to brace, but if the equipment fails there's not much that either of us can do. I have a tough enough time leaving the house sometimes. Knowing that there's public face-plant potential is not encouraging or conducive to me getting out and about. I haven't been hurt physically (unless you count the monumental bruise on my behind) but it's scary to have no control and embarrassing to have no control in a public venue. Having people rush over to ask me if I'm okay is sweet, but somehow makes it worse. In my ideal world, I go about my business efficiently and under the radar. Knowing I can fall at any moment takes away my dignity and my option of privacy. It's hard to explain to someone who hasn't been there, maybe; but if you have I know you know exactly what I mean.

   I didn't (and don't) have the time or resources to deal with being reminded that I am a "disabled" person. I have this life I need to be living, a book about to be published and things that I want to do, dammit. When I wrote that blog, I was feeling plopped right back into 'helpless' mode, and that is not at all a comfortable place to be. I've been a visitor, but I won't live there. At the same time, I noticed that more and more service dogs were sporting these fabulous, well-made and secure-looking harnesses. I thought to myself  "THAT is what I need, right there". I checked them out and learned they came from a company called Service Dog Designs (a specialty division of Bold Lead Designs ). Then I looked at the price, and though they were clearly worth every penny and then some, I sort of gave up the idea that I could have one. Like many in my position, I don't have a lot of money. And then I fell again.

   A friend described her experience with the harness, and I knew that it could be life-changing if only I could find a way. I know better than to give up, anyway. I went back to the site, printed off everything that was relevant to me, measured my dog and picked out all the options that would be perfect for us and then I did some brain-storming. While deep in the throes of mentally rearranging my finances (not easy considering the car trouble I was also experiencing) it occurred to me that I might want to call the company for some exact figures so I would know exactly what I was dealing with. At first I hesitated because some companies don't even want to hear your voice until you are ready to make a purchase. I don't want to be that person with no money who just wastes everybody's time speculating. That was the WRONG thing to believe.

   I spoke with Katrina, the company owner and harness-maker extraordinaire. I thought that it was pretty amazing that not only did she speak to me personally, but she was polite and understanding. She knew I didn't have the money, but walked me through the process of creating an invoice, offering helpful and knowledgeable suggestions every step of the way. She never gave me any indication that she might be in a hurry, or that she was wasting her time on somebody who didn't have any money anyway. Her focus remained on what my needs were, and the best way to make that happen. It was so amazing to me that I was actually discussing what I needed FIRST, and how to pay for it second, that I think I even cried a little. The idea that I could have what I needed, that falling could be a thing of the past, was kind of a moving experience. Katrina emailed me the invoice and some funding suggestions. I got excited. Here were options, and I was ready to advocate for myself. The amazing part? It WORKED.

  My harness is going to be shipped next week. If you had asked me in March if I have ever felt so hopeful about the possibilities for my future, I probably would have said "no" if I was answering honestly. Now I can get on with my life, and look forward to the things I have to look forward to! If you are a disabled person who is interested in this harness, don't just look at the cost and give up. Call Katrina, there IS a way. She is even willing to speak directly to potential funding sources. When it's an investment in yourself and your future, it's worth every penny.

This review is definitely going to have a part 2 when the harness arrives and we put it to good use. I normally would wait until after the product arrives to review it, but the experience with the company was so positive and helpful that I thought it was worthy of it's own review. I have no doubt that there are plenty of folks like me who's initial reaction was financially based, and I just wanted to try and help take that piece out of the decision making process. Define what you need, and then make it happen:-)

  

Conversations With Dog

   I've often wondered what my dog and I would say to each other if he could actually speak. It occurred to me almost immediately that he does speak, as long as I'm willing to listen. I spent some time on translation, and did my best not to anthropomorphize Murphy's end of the conversation. That's tough, isn't it? To not make everything in our own image? It's fortunate that we don't succeed. It's a work in progress for me and probably will remain so, but at least I try. Ah, to be a flawed human...

   Our last conversation at the park might have gone something like this:

Murph: I would like to go over here...I smell a squirrel!

Me: That's fine buddy, this is your time. Sniff away...

Murph: Please throw the toy...I will do anything just to ruuuun!

Me: Yes of course I will. I love to see you leap up to grab your Frisbee or to chase your bouncy ball. Your  exuberance is contagious and it makes me laugh. Go get it!

I throw the toy until it feels like my arm might fall off. I watch Murphy leap and spin and take off running like his little stub is on fire. All the while I can feel the happiness coming off him in waves, and can almost feel the tension leaving his muscles with each fluid and powerful stride. I launch him like a rocket with each throw; he dutifully returns to my side with his toy every time. It's a game we know well and that both of us enjoy.

Murph: I'm worn out now, but want to keep chasing. THROW IT!!

Me: Enough running buddy, but lets walk for awhile so you can cool down. Why don't you and your nose go exploring?

Murph: YES!

Murphy revels in the relative freedom of his long line. After years of work and the acquisition of impeccable off-leash skills, the line is merely a formality. Even so, it keeps him safe and makes me feel better too. I connect it to a harness so there's no tension on his neck, and Murphy feels 'free'. He sniffs at all the delicious smells; dogs and squirrels and things I can only imagine with my limited senses. I wonder what he thinks.

Murph: I see a dog...It's coming right at me. What do I do what do I do what do I do...oh yeah, I run to you. It'll be okay, I run to you and you feed me and smile and tell me I'm awesome. I can do this I can do this Oh no it's coming closer I can do this I don't know if I can do this....

Me: Good job buddy. You are awesome. Sit behind me. I've got this.

Me to interloper dog while gesturing emphatically: NO!!! Get lost!
Me to dog's owner: CALL YOUR DOG!!!
Murph: Whine!

The dog finally leaves and we continue to walk. Murphy slowly returns to his 'sniffun', but continues to spare a nervous glance over his shoulder in the direction the other dog came from. Eventually he is calm and relaxed again. It seems like a lot to worry about, to have to be constantly watchful so that my dog can feel safe. To be so unpopular with the 'friendly' dog crowd. Maybe it would be so much easier to have a dog without 'issues'. Maybe. But this is only one side of the story.

Another day may look something like this:

Me: I don't feel like going. I don't think I can handle it today.

Murph: Yeah! We're getting ready to go somewhere!. It doesn't matter where, car trips are awesome! Hurry hurry, get ready lets go!

Me: Okay buddy, if you say so. I can do this. Right? I can do this...

We get in the car. Murphy is impeccably well-mannered as always. He looks out the window but doesn't stick his head out. He never makes a sound no matter what we pass. He calmly observes the landscape as it slides by. We arrive at our destination, and Murphy stands up.

Me: I don't know if I can do this today.

Murph: Oh goody! A visit to the doctor! I get treats in there sometimes. Lets go!

Me: Okay...

Murphy waits calmly while I put on his leash, then unceremoniously jumps from the car. He looks at me with soft eyes and wags his stub with enthusiasm.

Me: I don't know if I can do this. I don't know. I don't know if I can handle this today.

Murph: Hang on to me. I've got this...

And he always does. 

Murphy is exceptionally good at his job. Maybe it would be easier for him to have a person without "issues", but he doesn't seem to mind. This is the other side of the story. He loves and gives without resentment or complaint. He speaks with his eyes and with the honesty of his tireless enthusiasm. I have no right and no room to complain. We humans could learn a lot from conversations with dogs.

Crazy Train

Common FB forward

   My sister and I like to assign individual ring-tones on our phones to our family members. "My" personal ring-tone on her phone was Ozzie Osbourn's "Crazy Train". No, I wasn't offended, and of course she knew that.  I love to laugh at myself, at the occasional absurdity of life and especially at the sometimes literal craziness that I live with. Making everything serious sucks all the fun out. Allowing things to be too serious can also serve to let them take over, be all-encompassing and an unwanted, primary focus. Laughing at 'the crazy' takes away a lot of its power, freeing me up to live my life focused on other things; things that actually deserve my attention. Even so, I have come to accept that, yes, sometimes I'm going to bring up the 'disability' topic. Based on the numbers, you all don't mind reading about it anyway. It's part of my life. Not the most important part, but a relevant part. I think I mentioned that I had a tough winter.

   Every once in awhile I read something that makes me go "Huh?" It is usually my habit to just be dismissive, but when I see the same annoying thing over and over again and it's supposed to be something that represents me in some way, I can't stop myself from saying something about it. The sentiment expressed in the photo on the right gets passed around Facebook a lot. While I get that it's supposed to be supportive and promote awareness, I have an exceptionally hard time with the idea that mental illness is the result of "having tried to remain strong for too long". I can't speak for everyone of course, only myself, but...huh? I understand fully that it's certainly not a sign of weakness, but I guess I don't get where illness is the result of 'trying to be strong'? I prefer to look at physiological (No, that's not a typo. I meant to say  physiological) problems from a more scientific position: Brain chemistry is a heritable, physical thing. Because it's a 'brain thing', it manifests in emotional/behavioral ways. Like any physical illness, if someone with a predisposition for a specific illness is exposed to the 'right' (or wrong) set of circumstances, the illness manifests. Think: Someone with a hereditary predisposition for diabetes who eats a steady diet of sugar and carbs.

   Because I can only speak for myself, I can easily say that I inherited a predisposition for certain issues. I can see aspects of different issues in most of my family members to varying degrees, and have heard about some pretty severe manifestations of issues similar to mine in some of my close relatives.  I know from my experience with animals that temperament definitely has some heritable characteristics. It's really not at all surprising. But here's the deal: Take two people with the same predisposition. First, you take one person with a predisposition, let's say for debilitating anxiety, and you set them up in an unhealthy environment during a crucial developmental stage, then put them in a position of daily, constant stress. From there take away the few things that provide security for that person, make them struggle to meet their basic need for years, add more responsibility than that person is really able to cope with, leave them alone to manage by themselves, add a healthy pinch of judgement and stir. That person is going to fully express heritable anxious tendencies because the environment that this person exists within supports that. It's not a matter of 'being strong for too long', it's a matter of putting an anxious person in a situation that would make an average person anxious. It's feeding sugar to a diabetic.

   You take another person with the same temperamental makeup and put them in a supportive, nurturing environment, allow that person the safety of knowing that needs are going to be met and though the anxiety isn't going to disappear, it certainly isn't going to manifest as forcefully. Given enough time, this person may even be able to manage their anxiety to a degree that it ceases to be debilitating. Just like changing the diet/exercise patterns of someone who is borderline diabetic, it becomes much easier to manage the illness, or even reverse it. Unfortunately for our hypothetical people, the longer they remain in unhealthy circumstances the more difficult it can become to get healthy again. The more time that goes by, the sicker that both the anxious person and the diabetic are likely to get if nothing changes. That's life, unfortunately.

  Somebody told me the other day that mental illness is a choice. People can choose to be anxious or not. People can self-talk their way out of panic attacks if they try. Sure, in the same way that a person can talk their way out of kidney disease or cancer. Unfortunately, that ignorant point of view is as pervasive as it is inaccurate, in spite of all the information to the contrary that exists now. Who would choose to be mentally ill? Seriously?

   Many people go through harrowing life experiences without ever developing mental illnesses, in the same way that some people go their whole lives eating crappy food and never develop diabetes. But we are all individuals. If a person can self-talk their way out of panic or sadness, they aren't experiencing mental illness, just normal human emotions. And they are not the same thing.

   A predisposition to ANY illness is not a character flaw, a weakness or a sign of laziness. It is not an excuse to judge someone or assume they are somehow 'less' in any appreciable way. Mental illness is an illness; the malfunctioning of a specific organ or system within the body. It is not the result of being strong for too long. And it is most certainly not a choice.