Introducing the Most Famous Service Dog

Anyone who knows me is familiar with my love of Disney.  I love the "Land," the "World," the movies and music.  I can't say I am a fan of all things Disney, as a liberal feminist, some of the traditional Princesses make my skin crawl and my feminist sensibility shutter, but I am a fan of the fab five, the beginning, the main characters (I have a Minnie issue but we can get into that later).  My love for Mickey is prevalent in my home and office. I would love to have all things Mickey if I did not have the pressure of adulthood lingering in the back of my mind and sometime in front of my face, aka the roommate rant. 

Now, it has to be stated that Mickey and Pluto are my favorites.  Mickey, because he's Mickey and Pluto because he is a dog. How can you question the bond between Mouse and Dog? Not to mention, as a dog lover, all things dog are good. Now, I have had those that have argued that Goofy is a dog too and that should elevate him to favorite status but let's look closely at this Goofy/dog situation. As I see it, Goofy clearly has dog features; long stout, whiskers and floppy ears but is infused with human characteristics; which works for a mouse but for a dog is just a goofy premise.  

In the course of my life and filling my evening (yes, I do have a brimming social life) there continues to be frequent heated discussions about this (and that Minnie is a hussy--but I digress). When one day, instead of arguing I was just asked,  "Why Pluto?"  The answer to me seemed obvious but why was I not able to regard Goofy with the same affection as Mickey?  Mickey, like Goofy, is no more than a mouse infused with human characteristics.  This important questioning of my beliefs and preferences left me contemplative and required further explanation.  Hummm...

It took a bit of time mulling over my hypocrisy (a characteristic I hate)  when it occurred to me, like a bolt of lightning from the sky. The reason Pluto is a favorite is because he is not just Mickey's dog but rather Mickey's service dog and service dogs, like Ivan, Steeler and now my Nin are my world.  These dogs are my life, my love and my laughter so of course I would relate to Mickey and his relationship with Pluto more than I would relate to Goofy, Donald or Daisy.  (Clearly we could argue that Minnie too needs a service dog but you know she is too much of a pre-Madonna to admit she needs assistance, ugh!) 

Okay, I hear you questioning this logic and shaking your head. Some of you out there may be thinking, "THAT'S It! I knew she was teetering on the edge of sanity and it has finally happened...she has gone over the edge!"  But to the contrary, there is a very logical train of thought behind this revelation.  Yes, it is the same type of logic and critical thought that lead me to the conclusion that Minnie is a hussy so we know it is without flaws! But, I remind myself that this blog is about me and my Nin or my service dogs, not about the musings of a flirty and flighty mouse! So back to my point. 

Relying upon what we know of Mickey we can identify that he is probably the most famous person/mouse with a disability.  I mean he is missing a finger and has overgrown gloves for hands. Can he really handle change or buttons? Can he get a credit card out of his pocket?  I am confident that he cannot do these things and many others without extreme difficulty or assistance. Now, let's not forget his feet. They are huge! They can't be easy to walk on especially for distance. Have you ever seen him run? I think not! Although he has assimilated well, I can't really say that he can function independently or attend to his activities of daily living without assistance, so...enters Pluto. 

Now Pluto may not have a vest, but remember this is not required under the law. He frequently accompanies Mickey around in public and is not asked to leave. I have even seen him in restaurants
and have never heard anyone citing health code violations as one would with a pet dog.  Additionally, in an unfriendly world filled with leash laws, Pluto is not seen on leash rather he is controlled by voice commands, another option for a service dog under the law. It has to be difficult to handle a leash with those ginormous hands.  To further my point, I have a collectable Pluto figurine that is a pose of Pluto with a Post It stuck to him, which clearly happened in the provision of picking up the note for Mickey, after all Pluto cannot read. As Nin can attest, picking up a Post It note is tricky business and can easily get stuck to to a paw, creating extreme frustration. (However, rather humorous for me).  Another figurine I have has Pluto with Christmas ornaments on his tail and hanging from his mouth, clearly he is helping Mickey trim the Christmas tree; a task that would be very difficult for Mickey with those big, missing finger, hands and a perfect task for a service dog. Both of those figurines were provided to my from Disney as a member of their Collectors Club, so we cannot really argue the authenticity of the figurine or intended poses.  

Looking at Goofy, he is more person than dog and not in need of a service dog of his own. Not only does Goofy walk upright all the time, he speaks, and he drives the Goofy mobile. Have you ever seen a dog who walks exclusively upright, speaks, in spoken English, and drives? (Ok there are a few dogs that drive in New Zealand but only with assistance from their person and they certainly do not have their own car. Thus, I will concede that their may be an very small exception to this rule!)

Looking at the entire picture, it is clear that Pluto is Mickey's service dog. His role is to help, love and be a faithful companion to his mouse,  just as my Nin is my faithful companion to help and love me unconditionally, well that is except when I kick her out of the big bed! 

I could go on to discuss particular episodes of cartoons which further demonstrate my theory but why belabor the point.  Disability comes in all sizes shapes and species, even in the form of a very wealthy famous mouse.  Mickey's relationship with Pluto demonstrates the love and interdependence felt by every person with a service dog and goes to show that we all get by with a little help from our friends.  

Sleeping with Nin

I have had three dogs in my life: Ivan, the regal dog, who should have been a butler; Steeler, the goof, happy dog; and now Nin, the nut!  CCI had rules and when I got Ivan they recommended that service dogs sleep in a bed or crate but not with the human. I obeyed for about six months until Ivan made it on the bed and not for lack of trying. In my defense, it was my Mom who broke the rule and invited Ivan on my bed when I had pneumonia. I was living in Philadelphia, going to graduate school, and it was a particularly cold winter.  This particular week we were experiencing a severe ice storm. Due to the demand on the power grid, the Philadelphia power company had to institute rolling blackouts.  I was living in an old building with radiator heat, it was cold. Combine that cold with my pneumonia and I could not get warn. Hoping Ivan would lay on my feet to help me stay warm, Mom invited him up on the bed. That was exciting for Ivan but lying on my feet was not in the cards. No matter where I slept in the bed, Ivan would find a spot where he was not touching me and most of the time preferred his bed.

Now Steeler in the other hand was invited into the bed on day one. We were staying in a hotel during training and Steeler, to my dismay, was a barker. Any noise in hallway our outside would start the barking, so to comfort him I invited him on the bed. Steeler was respectful of space to an extent. He rarely would try and sneak a pillow, he was always at the bottom of the bed but had to touch me. Be it paw, his tail, his back or a nose some part of him was always touching me.  He would start on the bed until I fell asleep at which time he would quietly take his toy and go back to his bed.

Then came Nin!  I am told by Kathy, a work colleague, that female labs are a different breed than the males.  She will test every boundary, look for any command loop hole, and just be a all around brat.  If she wasn't so cute, funny and entertaining, I would send her back (just kidding) but she is my love.  

Now when it comes to sleeping, Nin has a variety of locations. She has her Pittsburgh Steelers bed, and her (expensive) big bed. This bed would fit three of her and even has a raised edge that can serve as a pillow.  Now she likes this bed, she always has to have a pillow for her head and it is a designated place she can go when the world gets overwhelming, otherwise known as, when I give her a command or need something. Now, I know you are thinking that this is a pretty good set up for a dog but apparently, these beds are not to Nin's standards.  There is no need to worry about her because she has found herself a queen size, gel memory foam, two way adjustable bed. The only problem with this is that this is also my bed.  Unlike Ivan, who had to be untouched and Steeler who always had to be touching me, Nin has found her sleeping spot on top of me!  Remember what I said about her needing a pillow, well she found one...me!  It doesn't matter what I think, she has decided that my stomach, leg, foot and arm are the best pillows in the house.  It can be 100 degrees outside or minus ten, doesn't matter, she has found her bed. Command, or not when she is ready to go to bed-- up she goes.  It does not make a difference that the largest portion of the bed does not contain a human, her spot is on me. There have been nights when I wanted to move (silly me) and command, after command, she refused to move. I decided to adjust the bed into the position I call a taco, nope, she held on and would not move. I tugged on her collar, nope would not move.  CCI teaches us that when we give a command we need to follow through, so this session went on for over an hour. "Nin, off," no movement. "Don't!" As I give her collar a tug, no luck.  This went on until I finally gave up.

The next night, I tethered her to her bed. I had the tether too short for her to jump on the bed..."I will show her. I AM the alpha dog!" I said and I won! For two weeks before we went to bed Nin was tethered and for two weeks there was no problem.  So, I decided to let her sleep without the tether--I really was not a fan of the tether because I always worried she would get stuck or I would need something and she would be stuck.  However, there were no incidents and after the two weeks I put her tether away.  

As I was getting ready for bed she stayed close, just like always.  Next I get into bed, so far so good.  I pulled up the covers and laid down. THUMP, she bounds up and finds her spot, right on my legs!

As she gets older she has become more considerate. She always lets me get settled before bounding on top of me. She, now, obeys the "Off" command but just long enough for me to move or get comfortable before jumping back into bed.  The funny thing about it is that if I am not in my bed, neither is she. That is when she utilizes her dog beds.

I have decided to pick my battles with her and I got a fan to keep me cool. A  dogs average temp is 99.5 - 102.5, now that is a very warm 75 lb pound blankie!

So this is her win, she (kinda) works hard and sleeps harder.  I always have a companion very close by. Now, just don't ask me about the sofa that I got for my office for meetings with humans!

For Nin!

My Piece of Heaven

     As I lay in bed with a dog head on my stomach, my down comforter, and my music on; I am realizing that this is probably the closest to heaven I may ever get (throw in an ocean and a sailboat and there is no question I am in heaven).  No wheelchair to be seen, no doors or stairs to contend with; no prying eyes, just the simple truth; the dog, the bed and I.  

My Sleeping Nin!

    In all the confusion of life, the speed, the hustle and bustle of the day, true happiness is the simple things found in fleeting moments.  For at this time, there is no worry of bills, work, health, dates or money. Just contentment of pure uncomplicated and unconditional love; that which can only be found between a girl and her dog! 

Nin, the Elephant!!

For the last two years at work we have conducted a summer camp for teens with intellectual disabilities.  The purpose of the camp is to take a group of 20 high school aged kids, expose them to the Smithsonian Museums.  The kids pick a topic from the museum research it, take pictures and in the end make a film about their experience and their topic.  I am lucky enough to be one of the people who coordinate this camp.  I work with a great team of staff, educators, and volunteers who make this possible.  We call it the “Good Egg” camp, because everyone if draws into it’s circle is a gem. 

The kids are no exception (now in the interest of full disclosure, I am the one that selects the participants).  Each year we have had the best; most interesting and entertaining teens participate.  I know I learn more from them then we teach them.  I call these kids the “funny kids.” Not a slight on their disability but rather because I spend two weeks laughing and having the best time, they are genuinely funny!

As much as I love this camp and the time spent there I understand that this “camp joy” is not experienced by little Miss Nin.  I know that the amount of crumbs that she gets to Hoover is a plus but if it is possible for a Labrador to have too much attention, this is that time.  The camp is the breaking point for all her frustration, which she expresses to me through her grumbling and evil looks, all directed at me, of course. 

This year’s camp we had a camper that always wanted to walk her.  So, I would let him take her leash and walk her around the computer lab.  On lap five is when Nin begins the first signs of protest, when she walks towards me and glares.

“Nope, keep going,” I tell her

Lap 7, a very quiet low pitch, “grrr,” comes out of her mouth.  I giggle, “Keep going!”  At about lap 10 she ducks under a table and lays down.  Ok she has had enough.  She surfaces at lunch for her Hoover imitation but is quickly bombarded with hands all over her until she comes running back to me and under the table she goes.  This was the daily ritual. 

Now, the students all have to make a movie and on this particular day they had to search the Internet for 5 facts about their movie topics. I was speaking with one of the campers (the one that walks Nin on her laps) and I ask him what he is doing his movie on. This is our conversation.

“Elephants,” he replies.

“Ok what are your facts? What is unique about elephants?”  I ask.

“They are big, they have big ears, a long nose and a tail.” He replies

“Ok, look at Nin she is big, has big ears a long nose and a tail…so she is an elephant.” I say.

“NO!  She is a dog!” 

“Why is she a dog?” I ask

“Because she is!”  He says.

“But if what makes an elephant an elephant is big ears, a long nose and a tail, and Nin has all of those things then she must be an elephant!”  I respond in an attempt for him to take this thinking to the next level, utilize his five facts to tell me why elephants are unique, but to no avail.

“No!  She is a dog!”  He is raising his voice now.  This conversation goes on for about 5 more minutes until he exclaims…

“FINE! SHE IS AN ELEPHANT!” and he walks away.  I laugh!

Now Nin is referred to as elephant!  

Daddy's Girl and her dog!

I have to apologize to Nin’s faithful followers.  I know that I have not been updating her blog.  Please do not misunderstand, the lack of updates does not mean that lil’ Miss Nin has not been up to her regular old shenanigans, or that she is a reformed troublemaker, nothing could be further from the truth.  She still runs into my coworker’s office and if not greeted adequately (with a treat) will do a somersault and wiggle around on her back until she slams into the wall (there are paw prints on the wall to prove it).  In the new wing at work, when we were leaving she ran full speed directly into a glass door, no need to worry, the door was fine and Nin unfazed.  She still escapes into the crowded museum for her leisurely stroll until someone brings her back.  When the world keeps spinning some things stay the same.  Something I am so grateful for.

It has been me that has been unable to sit down and write the blog, life has become difficult and complicated and I did not know how to write about the antics of a crazy dog when my mind could not stay focused.  We all go through tough times in life and that is a great equalizer of this world.  No matter how strong our  mask is, life is not easy for any of us and the journey has bumps along the way.  We all have to learn the “big” lessons, that the friends we thought we had, may not really be friends when you have nothing left to offer. People will hurt others on purpose and overall life is not always good.  People are not always human.  At my age, I should know these things and I do, but every so often life finds a way to remind me not to be so trusting.

My worry and stress started,  when I left for New York to get my Nin, my Dad came to DC to drive my mom and I.  It was then that I found out that my Dad was in kidney failure and would need a transplant.  He had been on a list, was starting dialysis and my mom nor my sister were a blood type match for him so neither could donate.   I knew I was a match, but I also knew with my Muscular Dystrophy that the doctors would never let me give a kidney.  I was scared and devastated.  I never knew anyone to go on dialysis and stay on for more than a few years before they passed.

I am your typical daddy’s little girl.  I am the youngest.  It was not always like this, we had our troubles growing up.  He spent more time with my sister because she, like he, was the athletic one and they had their sports to bond over.  But as I got older my Dad and I bonded on a more adult level.  Not to mention our love for action movies, TV programs, politics and a good debate.  Over the last few years in DC,  my Dad has been my rock, my light in the storm, reminding me that I am never alone.  It never has occurred to me throughout all these years that he might not always be there for me.

It was great joy in the Flores' household when we found out that my sister was approved to donate a kidney as part of a living donor chain.  Since she cannot donate directly to my dad, she donates to someone who donates to someone who donates all the way until there is a match to my Dad.  The chain that my Dad and sister were in was 7 people long, starting with my sister and ending with my Dad.  There was a sigh of relief when the doctors gave us the transplant date Aug. 7.
I was going to have to stay in DC for the surgeries.  I had work obligations and in San Francisco, I would only be in the way. My Mom had enough to deal with and did not need me around. As the day approached, I became more nervous about the surgery and about both my sister and dad being in the hospital.  It was these nerves that resonated with my Nin.  In her doggy sixth sense she noticed.  At first, it was the little things, she would behave a little better and be a little more attentive, constantly surveying the situation letting me know that she was there.

On the day before the transplant was to take place my Dad went to the hospital with chest pains and the transplant was called off.  The next morning he went back to the ER and ended up having open heart surgery.  My world fell apart, I was in DC and my Dad was having surgery in CA.  As soon as my sister called to tell me what had happened, Nin came to me, gently placed her head on my lap as I heard the news.  For that day she stayed with me in bed, which is not usual for Nin, she stayed still but always had a paw on me so I would know that she was there.   She even poked her head in the shower as if it was her job to check on me.

I have seen my dogs react to my behavior, I have seen them be difficult when my mood was bad, be silly when I am silly and be stubborn, well all the time, but this was different.  She was just there for me, not assuming, not demanding, not asking for food or to play but just being by my side.  We have managed to get through the rough patches together.  Each day my Dad gets a bit better and stronger and Nin becomes more and more her rambunctious doggy self.  But for a few days there, I experienced her potential, as my support and a service dog.  I am continually amazed by her each day, as she becomes more and more of a necessity in my life.  When some people look at her they see just a dog but in her I see my physical and emotional strength.

Birthday's and Anniversaries!

Nin in her Princess Birthday outfit!  (He He!) 

Last month Nin and I had our two year anniversary,  two years together and no major incidents, so far good thing!   This month she turned four, my little girl is growing up.  Help us all.  I am told that Labs calm down as they get older but she is not that hyper just a bit crazy.  Her favorite spot is the sofa and she sleeps, until she gets these burst of energy and just goes completely nuts.  I am not sure what that is all about, do they make medication for this behavior?

I think back on the last two years and what they have meant, headaches, getting slapped in the face in the middle of the night as she decided that she is going to chase the monsters on my bed.  Pillows and blankets that go missing in the middle of the night, some still have yet to be found.  I remember bringing her home and being so excited and hesitant, I remember how well she knew all of her commands and how quick she was to react to a command,  now I am convinced she is broken.  I know what you are thinking, I must have done it but really, it rains here in the DC are and I think that she has shorted a fuse!  She needs some electrical work done.  Just the other day we were at one of the metro elevators, a button that she hits almost daily and I am giving her the command, “Nin, push!”  Nothing, she did not move. “ Nin, don’t,” in my firm voice, “Push!”  She looked straight ahead as if she had never heard this command before.  I gave her a weak “Krista” correction and nothing.  We repeat this a few times.  Right before I am about to roll onto the metro rail tracks with her attached to me, she jumps up pushes both buttons (up and down) and while still up looks at me and glares.  Granted this is not helping her argument that she does not know how to hit the elevator buttons because now she has hit both of them with perfect precision, but the glare.  I was not sure if I should laugh or cry.  Clearly broken!  This is what I have to look forward to, what the next years have in store;  lots of attitude, little work and a lot of laughs.  I guess when it is all said and done it has been a good two years!  Happy Anniversary my Nin and Happy Birthday!