Coordinating Colors

I'm one of those handlers who wants my gear to be minimalistic, plain reading, and, for Keeper's safety, eye-searingly bright (and preferably reflective).

Personally, I like royal blue and hunter green. Too many years in the hunt/jump and dressage world where the choices were black, brown, or havana brown, and not enough time in the eventing and Western pleasure barns where bright colors and bling were necessary to present the right picture. When it came time to buy gear for Duncan, I went with blues, and stuck with blues his whole career. Everything matched, without thought or trying.

That changed with Keeper. While I still like blue, in Duncan's royal blue gear, Keeper got bumped into and stepped on. She was wearing hot pink at WorldCon, standing next to me, when a lady asked where my dog was. Keeper is my very best ninja of unobtrusiveness.

If she's standing next to me, she doesn't want to make eye contact or flirt with people. She wants to mind her own bees-wax and do her job. That lack of eye contact (and not having Duncan's bright amber eyes) means that a surprising number of people overlook her. A lot (a LOT) of people still see her and comment on how pretty she is, but the bright pack color helps the otherwise unaware.

When it came time to get Keeper her own work gear, I waffled on lime green or hot pink. Hoping to cut down on having to answer the "boy or girl" question, I got Keeper a hot pink backpack. This was a mistake. I hate pink. I love red, but there's just something about pink that irritates me (might just be pastels). But hot pink kept people from running into her (or over her), so it worked well enough.... only, I still hate pink, and people still ask if she's a boy.

So, when I ordered Keeper a custom harness, I ordered it with a lime green liner and the embroidery came in the same color. I asked for (and got!) a lime green leash and backpack as gifts this year. The backpack is in a new design that I hate when it's on the underharness, but looks alright when just the top of the backpack attached to her custom harness. That means that her collar, her leash, her harness and her pack all match now. There's still a lot of hand sewing I need to do to get the patches on, but I'm happy with how it's coming together. (I had to undo the one in the picture, I'd put it on crooked.)

Keeper stands and looks at the camera in a bright lime pack with a leash loop over her shoulder.

Bereavement

I started out 2016 with a fear that Duncan had bone cancer and I'd lose him. I was so relieved when the x-rays came back clear. And then I lost him to lung cancer. Mom almost choked to death. I had surgery. My job's been unnecessarily stressful (it's really a simple job, but the management has flushed morale down the toilet.)

Sometimes I jokingly tell my shrink that denial is my superpower. Denying that things hurt, so long as I still have a decent range of motion, is how I keep going. So I've been, in large part, shoving aside my grief over Duncan, or tackling it in small doses, and then going back to being in denial.

I have to fight back tears at the passing thought of him, and I'm crying now. Some of it is misplaced guilt- I was battling a flare, the other dogs had a mild stomach upset, they got better, so I waited, assuming his issue was their issue and he too would be better in a few days. And guilt that when they talked about humane euthanasia at discharge that first time I was not ready to hear it (we weren't even sure it was cancer then.)

There are days when I seek out pictures or videos of him, but mostly I avoid them, because they bring the razor's edge of the loss and the grief with them. Which means that I don't tell stories about him like I used to, and I didn't leave a lot of room for anyone else to talk about him. Which was not wholly fair, as other people felt the loss, too, and may have wishes to reminisce, but it is what I had to do to keep moving.

Losing Duncan has left wounds I'm not sure I know the extent of, and still I'm getting ready to do it all again. Having him in my life brought me such joy. Working with him brought me a freedom from the limits of my body. The reason it hurts so much now is that it worked so well before.

In some ways, that is the best testament to his working career I could have. I lost him more than three years after he retired, and I'm still grieving what a help he was, as well as grieving who he was. Loving him so much means that it hurts to live without him. I don't know that it will ever stop hurting to know that he's gone, but all I can do is make space for that pain and keep moving.

Animal Magnetizism

I work a service dog in public. Have for the better part of a decade now. Having the dog help me means my life is vastly improved. Having the dog in public means that I draw comments and attention I would not otherwise.

I went to WorldCon with a bright blue pixie cut. 4 comments on my hair, literally thousands on Keeper. For context, that is 4 comments on things that I did for fun and because I enjoy it, and would have enjoyed talking about it. Thousands of distractions while my disoriented, disabled self is trying to navigate across a convention hall that's several blocks long, through hundreds or thousands of people in the hallways. It's a chaotic environment and I'm fielding questions and comments at a steady rate of several a minute.

These people are polite, for the most part. I only had one person try to pet without asking, and only a few blatantly expressed disappointment when they asked and I told them no. We've gotten very good about doing a side-step maneuver so when the unthinking (or the assholes) stop dead in front of Keeper and reach for her face, we don't break stride and I don't fall down or have muscle spasms.

I have had people in cars stop so I'm trapped on a walkway to talk to me about the dog. I've had people say "go pet the doggy!" and sic their children on me. I've had rookie K9 handlers stop me in the grocery store to ask about dog training.

Most of the time it is not malicious- they're not trying to point out that I'm disabled. They don't know what my issues are or what my dog is trained to do, how we work as a team so I can get out of the house. They don't understand that I want to be seen for myself, not the president of Keeper's fan club. Some assume I'm only training the dog because I can still walk. They just see a dog and act the way they're used to acting around pet dogs.

It is exhausting. It is frustrating. It is inescapable.

And this is my reality. People don't respect the normal social boundaries because they see a dog, they want to pet it, and my needs are the farthest thought from their mind. It is a candid admission that they don't see me as a real person- or they'd ignore me as they ignore everyone else in the store. Because I'm no longer a real person, my runs to the grocery store for milk and eggs is better done at 2am when there's no one rather than at 2pm when some old woman will cut me off with her cart and tell me stories about her dead dog. Yes, I can and have turned around and gone back out of the aisle, but it costs me time and energy that is physically precious and some days hard to come by.

Dealing with these interactions is part of working a service dog in public. The extra attention, the extra time to dodge people, is a constant. Some disabled individuals stop using their dogs and stop going out because it's overwhelming, or it's not worth the help the dog provides when they have other alternatives.

Me, personally, I don't have good options for all the things my dogs are trained to do. So I deal with it as best I can. But that doesn't mean that having someone go "hey, puppy!" doesn't annoy me, or that having them make kissy noises and get louder as they call my dog again because she is ignoring them (just like I trained her to) doesn't piss me off. It's a dog in a library with "SERVICE DOG" in 2 inch high letters. The signals are there. People ignore them. And that's with the benefit of the doubt that they don't know that calling my dog out from under me could cause me to fall and be injured.

If you see a service dog, please ignore them. I know that's hard for dog lovers, and I know we're almost as rare as a unicorn in your life, but you likely aren't the first... or the fifth... or the fortieth person to say something.

On grief, and love

I'm still in an emotional hole after Duncan's death, still feel like part of how I live my life, how I defined myself, has been ripped away. It's like expecting another step at the bottom of a staircase and being brought up short. You don't fall, but it's jarring.

Shortly before he died, a friend asked me how I defined 'home.' (I think she was asking to see if I had any hints on making a new place seem familiar.) I told her home was where Duncan was, and I meant it. But also, I've referred to hotel rooms as 'home'- because that's where my family was staying, or where Duncan and I were sleeping. It's never really been a place or particular building for me.

I had another friend ask me how long it hurts once you've lost a good dog. I don't know. Twink died in February 2005, my parents told me in March (didn't want to mess up my midterms at college.) I found Duncan in May of 2007, but didn't really fall in love with him until Nov/Dec that year. Nearly three years to stop grieving Twink enough to make room for loving Duncan... but I still missed her.

Twink died more than a decade ago. I still have moments I miss her deeply. I burst into tears during a rescue transport because the dog looked and moved so much like her it was like seeing her ghost. (Thankfully the rescue was moving that doppelganger girly new home or I'd likely have tried to adopt her.) Mostly I've moved on to being grateful for the smiles and the memories, for how she thwarting my efforts to harm myself.

Duncan died 7 months and 11 days ago. I'm crying as I type this, and there are still unexpected tidal waves of grief when I think of him. I still have trouble talking about him without getting choked up. I have trouble sorting through grief of him as a loved one, and grief of a service dog that worked so well for me that asking for his help felt like an extension of myself. I started grieving when he had to retire, and had only sort of come to grips with not having his help in public (still relying on him a fair bit at home) when he died.

It's hard to explain what it's like to be part of a properly matched service dog team. Where I was weak, he shored me up. I took care of his every need. We were together 24/7. While I have never had a child or a spouse, it's got to be a bit like being a parent, or being married (only, the SD also goes to work with you and is a coworker, a caregiver, a roommate, a friend, a confidant....) Duncan was a facet of my understanding of myself. When it came to knowing when I'd fall, he knew me better than I knew myself, and he warned me.

So I feel like I've lost my home, though I live in the same house. I feel like I've lost a defining part of me, and a safety net for when my body fails me (Keeper does alert, but not with as much warning or with as much 'listen to me now' authority). I'm still grieving him deeply, though I am reaching the point where I can sometimes tell stories and smile about him and remember the joy he brought to my life. I hope I remember more of the joy and get more distance from the pain.

Strider was easier to grieve- it wasn't going to work, I returned him to a wonderful woman (his breeder), who found him a fantastic home (where he's earning titles, having adventures, and making more great dogs for other people to love). Still, I had him 8 months, and grieved maybe a year? I don't have a firm timeline. I don't really know how long I'll grieve for Duncan.

I do know that what's making it bearable is 100 pounds of fluffy, derpy, ridiculousness. Keeper is not Duncan, and she's not Strider. In some ways she's similar to Twink. Still, she's her own being, and she is generally full of love and happiness. She makes me smile in spite of my fear and my grief. She got me through the worst of Duncan's unexpected death. I have hopes she'll see me through puppy raising and training her successor. (I really don't do well with the sheer work most puppies are to raise from 8 weeks to ~4 months.)

I have four days off work to just be home and rest, or only do what I want to do. And I'm happy that I have Keeper at work and at home. Last night she stole a sock of mine from the hamper, went and laid down and used it as a pillow. I love her. She loves me more. It's a weird and humbling thing to realize that I may have to support her on being brave and convincing her strange things won't eat her (dino costumes come to mind), but that she is exactly the dog I needed to ease me through Strider's career change and Duncan's death.

There are times she irritates me (So much licking. Ew.); times she exasperates me (crate training took forever); times I despair about her not learning or retaining as much as the boys (she doesn't have their language skills and her vision isn't great for hand signals); and sometimes I sit and worry about what skills she hasn't learned as well as I'd hoped. However, what she does now, she does solidly, and she has learned a lot.

In addition, she's unfailingly sweet, her happiness is infectious, and she's a balm to the jagged edges of my soul. I don't know what sort of emotional wreckage I'd be without her. I do know that with her help, I'm still able to pass for a functional adult.

Realistic expectations

http://www.mmilani.com/3281/commentary-201007/

I saw this the other day, and needed to see it. It made me of two minds. With Duncan as my partner, I would disagree that it's too much to ask a dog to be a service dog and more. With Keeper, I'm finding that in fairness, asking her to be a service dog pretty much is the limit of what she's up for doing.

Keeper's a very good service dog for me in many ways. She's very easy to live with, tries very hard to be right, and is generally undemanding. However, she doesn't push me to do more, or motivate me to get out and train just to train. She's smart, but she's not wicked smart and mischievous if left 'alone' to think up things. She's a homebody and an introvert, but she wants to go with me, and likes helping, so she enjoys her job.

Duncan was almost too much dog for me as a youngster. Four hours at the lake throwing his bumper so he'd have his needs met was right at the limit of what I could do. He needed me to be better- at training, at managing him, at giving him a job. He was a great service dog for college, especially once I had a core group of friends and when we'd go hang out I'd relax and he'd wrestle them. He was a gregarious, socially motivated dog. He got a charge out of making people laugh, and he liked meeting new people so much that I used "go say hi" as a reward for him.

If I'd been up for it, I think he would have loved being a therapy dog on top of being a service dog. He schmoozed with guests when they came over, worked the crowd for petting and treats, played with dogs at the dog park (when I still trusted people to only bring mentally and socially stable dogs to the dog park), played with our neighbor's Brittany for hours when I cut it back to doggy play dates, and was just a lot of attitude and joy (and work) to live with. If he didn't have a job, he made up jobs for himself- usually digging holes and barking and eating food on the counter. I couldn't slack off with him, and he kept me motivated.

Keeper's not challenging in the same way. She's not as social. She'd rather hang out in the same room than wrestle, rather go on parallel walks with new dogs than play with them, and if she doesn't have a job at that moment, she snoozes like a 100 pound bear rug.

I've had a hell of a case of Second Dog Syndrome. Keeper is not Duncan. She's doing the same job in an almost entirely different way. She is a very good dog, and I think my parents prefer living with Miss Easy-Going over Mister Entertain Me! Maybe it's working with him first, maybe it's just my preferences, but I'm going back to Strider's breeder and hoping to get another gregarious, adventurous, active dog. I love Keeper, and I try not to ask too much of her... but I really miss having a dog who had the energy reserves to do it all, and wanted to be that busy.

Little day-to-day things

I was having a less than stellar night last night. Poor Keeper. I knelt down to pick up a DVD that had fallen, and she turned to look just as I was lifting it and I elbowed her in the muzzle. I clipped her with a book I dropped later. Finally, as we were leaving (after weeks of encouraging her to go faster on the stairs because my balance has been good or I've been taking the elevator) I tripped and caught myself on the back of her neck/shoulders. Not too hard, as I also had a hand on the railing. She kept me from faceplanting without missing a step, but judging by the Disapproving School Marm glare I received, I have a feeling we're going to be going s_l_o_w from here on out. Fluffy Knows Best, I'm just impatient... and probably should have taken the elevator. She forgave me for all of that much faster than she's forgiving me for cleaning her ears.

Hot and humid weather and her winter coat growing in made her ears yeasty again. I buzzed the hair in front of her ears so there's air flow and have been cleaning them twice a day with an equal parts apple cider, rubbing alcohol and water mix the last couple days. Looks like we're winning over the wee beasties. She dislikes the ear cleaning, but comes right back afterward because I dole out so many cookies for the discomfort. The Setters disappear for a half hour or more each time I clean Keeper's ears.

On the plus side, she's been getting sassy with our sometimes cooler mornings. We're both hoping for a long, crisp fall and lots of snow this winter.

"Play" time

I've been letting out a neighbor's dog for them mid-day while they're at work. Most times I bring Keeper with me. Rusty would like (very much!) to play rough and tumble and be the chaser, not the chased. Keeper would prefer he be polite, or be the chaser. These do seem to be mutually exclusive states of being. I may take a Setter next time.

I find her reluctance to engage with Rusty to be interesting, and the stress drool when we visit his house very indicative of her awareness of social rank. She *knows* she's on another dog's territory, and would like not to be. That I see no such stress response on walks or when she's working fascinates me. It is not the distance from our home, or the strangeness that's getting to her, it is the fact that we're in "enemy" territory, even with the "enemy" bouncing along side going "play now? Now? Now?"

When he's been over here, she's aloof because he's rude, but not stressed.

Complex instincts at work here. I'm sure I'm missing some of it, but it is very interesting to watch.

After I'd put Rusty back in his crate, we went straight to the library to grab some books, and all was right with Keeper's understanding of the world.

She's not the brightest, or the most daring, adventuresome soul, but she tries, and what she does understand, she does very well. She's steady, reliable, easy. Even when she's got great gobs of spit hanging under her chin, she still listens and works for me. I love her to pieces.

Keeper- gratitude

When all I hear is the squeal of brakes
When all I see is the blue smoke billowing
When all I can do is brace for an impact
That has already passed

When I tense up and stop breathing
When I break out into a full body sweat
When my hands are slick and trembling
With a fear from years ago

She comes and rests her head on me
She pushes those thoughts away
She makes it so I can see today
And not be trapped in that wreck

If I smile and laugh and go out
If I explore and experience and enjoy
If I live a life unfettered
It is because of her

Katie Came to Town

My friend, Katie, came to visit from Iowa. It's always great when she visits. A lot of similar interests and we're of a wavelength on energy/temperament.

We went to see Ghostbusters (I will be quoting "The power of Patty compels you!" for a while.), went to the library and grabbed the old Ghostbusters, and Kung Fu Panda 3 and had a funny movie marathon.

We hung out and talked. We messed with the dogs. (The dogs were not amused at first to find that I have taught Katie all my annoying techniques.) We went to the Moon Marble Company and watched a marble making demo. (Keeper was not fond of being squeezed into the bleacher seating.)

Keeper was happy every morning Katie was still here. She carried a bag of small but heavy items out to Katie's car. Don't know if Fluffy has realized that meant Katie had to head home.

WorldCon/MidAmeriCon2

I've never been to a fan convention before. Duncan and I did a professional gathering with some 600 people. That was easy.

Keeper and I completed a 5 day run at WorldCon in Kansas City, MO. Thousands of people. Some in full body costume. One in a griffin costume the size of a pony (rear legs on wheels). Other service dogs, a guide dog, scooters, wheelchairs, canes, strollers, children, weird upon weird upon weird.

She kept me on my feet. Alerted (which I ignored, to my detriment.), then did response work, slept through panels, readings, a literary beer with a test-your-strength game just down the way, and so much more.

I am so grateful that I had her with me to help. Sometimes, like the full body hawk suit, she looked confused (and kinda grumpy) and stared at me like I should have an explanation for this weird. With the large man statue in the hall, I had a "it's fake, let's go look" explanation. For a 6 foot high hawk walking by going "KAW!" I got nothing.

She tucked under chairs, snugged up against strangers when there was no room to spare (I asked first), rode in elevators, tried to take me to a room we'd been to three times rather than heading off into the hinterlands (I love when she tries to be bossy!), and had no worries that I could see about all the many rooms, setups, and crowds going in and out of those rooms. Did have some discomfort with the crowds as we were walking, but she was working the gaps and moving well by the end of day one, and got better all week.

We had a couple people try to approach without asking, but most people asked. Of course, the one (1!) person she wanted to approach was allergic. She got pet a couple times- on her terms, after they asked. She looked at people and looked away far more often when asked "do you want to say hi?" and everyone was okay with her choosing no.

We figured out crosswalks. Sort of. I still have my issues.

She waited on me as I stood there and went "Where the hell are we? Where am I trying to go from here?" She hustled with me when the answer was "a long way away in a short time." She moseyed with me when the answer was "just around the corner."

There was one bathroom she hated, but she dealt with it. I just got stared at judgmentally when I used it. (Only the one. Don't get it.) She used the park. She asked to go when she needed out.

It wasn't perfect, but she did so, so good and tried very, very hard.

I'm proud of her and the work she did. She slept all day today and snored a lot, but was peppy when we went to writers' group, and wrestled with Twist tonight.

I'm not sure there's another 5 day convention in the area I'd want to go to, but I'm now confident we could handle it.

Weekend recap

Accidentally terrifying people, 8/13/16 and 8/14/16 editions:

Wasn't thinking about it as I walked into a conference room full of people to grab a cart from the previous group's set up. Gasps from a few, and of course (of *course*) the woman standing closest to the cart was the one who stumbled backward in fear. Dangit.

Today after work, I stopped to get more bleach developer for my hair. Had a worker come toward where I was standing to help, stop dead, and say something about "big dog." It's three doors down from a pet store, so I said "she's my service dog," thinking that was the hold up. Nope, she's so scared of dogs she can't move closer. She was able to direct me to exactly what I needed, and then asked "Is that a Beethoven dog?" Told her about Berners vs Saint Bernards, and she commented on how calm Keeper is. I think that's one of the people who would, over time, get used to the burly girly. We have a couple patrons at the library that went from being scared spitless of her to saying she's their favorite dog. Still feel bad for scaring her. May write a letter or call to compliment her on providing great service while scared of Keeper.

Saturday was a slower day at work. I went to Cabela's to get a backpack for WorldCon. So many people! I keep forgetting it's back to school insanity everywhere. Keeper did really good, lovely pull into the harness through the crowd. She had a stutter-step and a "what the?!" as we passed some grills with side wings. Nose up, peered at it, then shrugged it off and went forward/under them. That pause of "why is this here?" was her only pause. (Also, I continue to wonder if she's slightly cross-eyed, or just has poor vision in close because of the "what is this?" faces she makes about some things.) Still not perfect in line, but getting better the more we do it. She'd be better if I didn't actively avoid lines as much as I possibly can.... Skills I don't want to practice.

Sunday was a busier day- end of summer panic as high schoolers realize school is coming, and they have yet to read their assigned books. Ran to get a variety of items, and Keeper seemed to enjoy the runs to get things. There was one "but I'm napping..." pause. Must have been a good dream. Once she was on her feet, she did good work.

After work, we went to the beauty store and had that encounter. The look on her face as I opened the car door was pretty good. She was obviously looking forward to going home. Still good work, just a "reeally? fiiiine." before she hopped out.

It ought to be fun to see what she thinks of day after day of a convention if she's sure it's time to go home, and disappointed that we stopped elsewhere.

Doing things, and planning more

We had Disc Dogs visit the library. Keeper was distracted by the barking as we were shelving, so we went to the auditorium for her to see them. She was curious about the dogs sitting along the wall, but okay with it until a dog launched off its handler. Dogs are not supposed to fly in Keeperland. So much confusion on her face as she sat there and watched that routine.

The week after, we went to the county fair. Things I learned: Keeper is afraid of goats, not sure of sheep, and unfazed by cattle. I think goats hit the Uncanny Valley for Keeper. Dog-like, dog-sized, not-dogs. After her initial "what the hell is that?" she was starting to come around and think it over, then a Boer stepped up on the side of its pen and Keeper's tail tucked up between her legs. She didn't run, but she wanted nothing at all to do with the goats.

She's gotten me through grocery stores and work and more. I'm not sure either of us is really ready for WorldCon, but it's coming up and we'll see how we handle it. I'm hoping it is fun for both of us.

I've got freeze dried goodies ready to go, I plan to buy cheese, I'm trying to make a schedule that includes potty breaks for her (it's hard when there's so many panels I want to watch!). I haven't really had Keeper in a classroom setting, and this will be my first fan convention, but she handled the library In Service well, and goes to movies, so I hope she translates that to napping during panels.

Errand run

Hot, hot day, perhaps the hottest we'll see all summer. And our AC was turned off and coolant drained for repairs. Mom and I bailed to run errands, which meant Keeper and I were out in the heat of the day, not our usual (usually we hide inside).

She did really well. We hit a thrift store in a retirement home, and she dealt with people talking to her/us from the landing rails on the stairs, a tiny two-person elevator, and the slightly crowded thrift store well. She did have a "real or not real?" squint/head lower/sniff at a lady standing against a wall until the woman spoke.

(Did have a moment of missing Duncan. A couple of residents saw Keeper and their faces lit up a bit. I really miss Duncan's "HI, NEW FRIEND!" response to "go say hi." Keeper is much more "Okay, they touched my head, one thousand one.... aaaand back to work." Much, much less rewarding for the other people. I miss being able to reward people who ask politely.)

Went on to lunch at Holy Land Cafe. Great shawarma, great spanikopita, and the best gyro I've had in years. Maybe next time I'll leave room and try the baklava.

Mom got her watch battery replaced. As I sat on a bench to wait, an elderly man pet Keeper's head with both hands. She had a "is this allowed?" look, but didn't duck him. As we left, the lady behind the counter who did the battery swap asked if she could pet Keeper, and we did the mercenary treats-for-head-touches. Keeper's "but the rules... oooh, kibbles" face amuses me every time.

Stopped off at a post office and got to wait in line. Lines are so not our thing (I hate them), so I know I haven't practiced them enough, especially switchback lines. There was a bobble to start with (she started to head back toward the door as the rest of the line moved to the left, rather than continuing around the corner to the right) but once she understood the traffic pattern, she did well. Had a lady telling me about her aunt's three service dogs, which beats other stories people tell me.

From there, we went on to Sprouts to get turkey backs because Keeper's breath smells and I'd like her to do some of the heavy lifting on cleaning her teeth. Keeper was very happy when she sniffed at the turkey backs package and I told her they were for her. Had an elderly lady in a scooter ask if Keeper had been to visit hospitals. Looked over and realized she had a white faced yellow Labrador as her service dog on the other side of the center-of-the-aisle freezer case. Chatted with her for a couple minutes. Keeper lifted her head to sniff, with a "I think I smell a dog..." face, looked around, and shrugged it off. About the time her nose dropped out of sight below the top of the case, the Lab lifted its head to sniff with the same "I think I smell a dog..." face, also looked around for the other dog, and shrugged it off. Did a little other shopping, but didn't bump into the other SD.

Mom got gas, and we hit Walmart. Mom ran to get a couple items, Keeper and I hit the bathroom. Then I told Keeper to find Mom, not a cue she knows just yet, but to tell her what we're looking for. She was happy to find Mom, and then, we stood in line *again.* Bo-ring!

Out in the parking lot, Mom fumbled the unlocking of the car, so I couldn't get the rear door open, and went to open the front door to reach in and open the back. However, Keeper popped in through the front seat and into the back to get off the hot pavement. Up until now, I have not even thought of getting her boots, because I don't go out when it's nearly this hot. Might have to change that viewpoint.

Very happy to be able to get out and do all the things we did today. We both came home, retreated to my room with the window AC as the house is still very warm, and napped for several hours. Long, mentally demanding day for both of us.

Chugging along

I'm still grieving Duncan, still have moments where I just sit and sob. Sometimes those are just after playing with Keeper and laughing at her goofy hucklebutt runs and 'raaah' play sounds. (She's ferocious, she is.) I am sometimes puzzled by the whipsaw of emotions, but I suppose it is better to feel both extremes than to only feel the lows. Perhaps it is that finding joy with Keeper means I think of the joy Duncan brought me, and then I remember he's gone, and my emotional openness at that moment means I'm unprepared for it to hurt so much nearly four months later.

I am grateful for Keeper's ebullient attitude as much as I am grateful for her task work and help as a service dog. Monday we went to an interview (I was told I was a good candidate, but was not the best candidate, so nothing will come of that.), then writers' group that evening. Tuesday morning was a repair man in and out of the house to work on our air conditioner, and that evening was a 4 hour day at the library. Somewhere in there, Mom and I had a disagreement (about beef cattle genetics, of all things), and Keeper came to insert herself and act happy to help divert me/calm me down. Not something I think I needed as a task before the concussion, but I find I am more strident and rant or argue more than I would like, as more things irritate me and I hold grudges more than I should. I'm glad she comes and tries to defuse my anger/irritability.

We've done some things that I would not have expected to be challenging- a grocery store where a pile of watermelons had her acting like we were passing decapitated heads in a pile- and some where I thought she would have issue and didn't- a yappy little dog on the end of a flexilead, and she sat and watched without "talking back" or trying to greet/trying to avoid.

The AC work continued this afternoon, and as the man went in and out, in and out to check on things, we stopped answering the door. That fell under the "that's not the rules!" brain tweak for her. Actually, the first time he came in, Dad got the door, and I had her stay out of the way. Once released, she went to sniff the entry way floor, then set out to see which way he'd gone. She soft footed down the stairs, found where he was talking to Mom, checked that Mom was okay and watching the stranger in the house, then Keeper came back upstairs with an "I found him!" grin on her face. Not sure if she thought it was an elaborate "find me" setup with a new person, or was just had some herding instinct kick in to go check her "flock."

And then we stopped watching the guy and he went in and out the front door all on his own, and that's not the way things are supposed to work. She wasn't sure what to do about it, and each time she tried a different way of handling it, and it took about four times of him coming in unescorted before she stopped getting up, or boofing a one chuff alert/alarm, or bumping someone with her nose. Finally, she just settled and watched him, and was praised mightily for that choice. Given what a brain workout that was, and that the last few days have been, I expect she'll sleep well while I'm manning phones this evening.

Peanut gallery

On one hand, I know from experience that people will make comments about my service dog, and try to let them go by. On the other, especially at museums and such, I have a mental tally of what is said just by habit. Interestingly, I pretty much tune things out, but family and friends not used to going out with a service dog comment on the comments people make.

When I had my teeth cleaned, a person asked if Keeper ever gets "loved on" or "time to be a dog," and that's not the first such questions I've got. She has a job, and she's very serious when she's working, but she's still a dog. She gets down time, toys, I have bruises from when we wrestle too hard, and she has the Setters (though the Setters don't always play on Keeper's schedule, that's also good so she keeps up her social skills.)

At a rough count, at the Nelson-Atkins there were two dozen comments on Keeper's looks, seven on her breed, one on if she was an art aficionado, and one volunteer double-checking that she was a service dog. (She was wearing a K9 Kool Coat and a PawPower Harness without markings.)
At the WW1 Museum as I was checking out a scooter, the volunteer asked what I was going to do with my service dog. I don't know if they thought I'd be checking her in like a coat, or leaving her in the car (too damn hot for that!), but I told them she still has many other jobs to do than keeping me on my feet, and that she'd be going with me.

I honestly lost count of the "pretty dog" comments after nine or ten, there were 4 people playing "guess the breed" who guessed Bernese Mt Dog correctly, one man who asked where her "alcohol flask" was (thinking she was a Saint Bernard), and a man who guessed she was a Great Dane.... (No. Not even close in coat, shape, or size, really. Keeper's ~26 inches at the shoulder. Dane bitches should be at least 28 inches at the shoulder.) A couple more who asked "Saint Bernard and....?" And there were 5 parents who did tell their kids not to pet the dog, she's working. Always nice when I overhear that!

Hit the gift shop just before we left. I bought a pinwheel, and the lady at checkout told me about her Bouvier des Flanders therapy dog. Which is much better than the dead dog stories, or the "my dog could totally be a service dog!" stories (with glaring holes, like "hates kids" or "nervous in crowds.") Actually kinda nice to hear that her dog really loves going to make new friends at the VA.

And so many, many comments at the library. From the new janitor who was afraid she'd bite (she was under my desk and never lifted her chin off the floor), to the people who are sure they got to pet her as part of the therapy dog program (and want to pet her again), to the steady stream of comments about her looks, or asking to pet her, it's all becoming kind of blurred together.

Two from the last several days stand out.

Kid, following their parents, stops to stare at Keeper. I get ready to fend the kid off. Kid looks at me, smiles, yells "CUTE!" and runs off to tell Mommy about the big pretty doggy in that super loud voice little kids use.

The other one's more a facepalm sort of moment.
Patron: Can I pet your dog?
Me: No, she's working.
P: How can a dog be working?
M: *sigh* *walks away to shelve more things*

Too hot to even try to explain. Also, Keeper would very much like me to turn the heat down on the whole world, and to stop dampening her ears, legs, and feet to help cool her off.

Hot times, family visit, recap

Our AC compressor died, and then it was super hot at work. A coworker referred to Keeper as a "puddle of dog." I wet down her ears, inside her legs and got a fan pointed at her and she perked back up. We're also about 20 degrees cooler, which helps. Thank goodness my window AC never died, or Keeper and I would have had to go to a hotel. Neither of us can handle the heat.

The last week has been a busy one. My brother, his lady love, and their 16 pound poodle came to visit my cousin's newborn. That also meant my aunt and uncle came down, and then the cousins and the toddler and the newborn came over. So many people. I was actually grateful to go to work on Saturday to give my brain a break. Keeper got caught up on her sleep there, to give an idea of how much busier it is in the house with family.

We went to the Nelson Atkins museum of art, the WW1 museum, out for food, and work on our usual schedule. Unfortunately, I managed to tweak my bad ankle, and ran over Keeper's toes with a scooter at both museums. She forgave me, I still feel guilty. (Also, the WW1 museum has much better scooters!)

I'm really pleased with how well Keeper rolls with the changes. It did take her a bit to warm up to my uncle (who is very tall) and the toddler (who had grown and moved differently than last time we saw her), and Keeper wants nothing at all to do with babies (strong instincts not to mess with "puppies" that are not her own), so it wasn't perfect. However, she was a rockstar in the museums, handled a whole new restaurant without a worry, and was reliable and there when I needed her.

By Saturday, though, her energy was pretty well tapped out. Usually I say "let's go to the computers" or "let's go find a book," pick up her bait bag, and she's up and ready to go. Not this Saturday. I had to bribe her with a cookie the first time. After she got some more sleep, we were back to our usual. The only other time she refused to stand up was the Sunday after we did a full day of work Saturday and then 6 hours in the ER.

I just checked, I never wrote about that, or my surgery, or her surgery, it looks like. It's been a crazy few months. Mom nearly choked to death, Dad did the Heimlich, and when that failed, stomach compressions that saved her life. We ended up in the ER for 6 hours as they did x-rays and gave her 3 liters of fluids and tried to get her heart to behave itself.

I went in for abdominal surgery where they kept me overnight. I would not have been able to walk Keeper, so Dad brought her the next morning. She looked like she was marching to a firing squad, but she behaved herself with him. Saw me, all the happy wags. We did the laps of the hallway needed, and I was released to go home.

Keeper had a bump on her head, and went in for surgery a week after I did. The lump was benign, and we were stitches sisters for a while.

2016 has been an overly eventful year, and I've been depressed for most of it. Medicated well enough to keep doing what needs doing, but just lacking in motivation to do anything fun without an outside spark. Keeper's making most things possible. She's not my ideal, nor is she perfect, but she is a very good dog. The more I get out and do, the more I am grateful for her help.

Wordful Wednesday.

It takes effort and a touch of energy to update this blog, and others that I have. Depression and grief sap my energy, and change my internet use from output to soothing/numbing. I sought out a lot of cute animal pictures, and spent a lot of time adjusting.

I'm still hurting, still miss him, still wish I could have done... anything. More. Saved him. Known I wasn't hurting him by making him wait to go to the vet clinic he loved. I have so many doubts.

With the information I had, I did the best that I could. I just wish I'd known more, sooner, and had more options.

I've put a lot of effort into trying to put what we had into words. Maybe I'll post that here, sometime. For now, it will have to be enough to say that just thinking of Duncan used to bring me comfort and a sense of peace. To have his memory be painful is a natural part of grieving, but it feels like I'm cut off from a part of myself.

Keeper has helped me get out of the house that no longer feels right without him in it. She's kept me on my feet when I've pushed too hard. She's kept me laughing. She's been what I've needed to get through the worst of it. And the worst of it was facing our 9 year anniversary without him. It'll be easier from here.

I wrote to someone else that he and I were so much a team that it was "we" and I don't really know how to be "me" without him. I wish I didn't have to learn. I had more faith in him than in my own body. He'll be in my heart, and I'll love him for always. So in a way, he can never fully be gone.

Annual checkup

Today was less fun for Keeper. We went to the vet's. She is much better- I didn't have to physically pull her out of the car- but it's still a source of worry for her. She did really well as they pulled blood and gave her a booster vaccine, and checked her over. Not that long ago, she wouldn't let the vet touch her. In the exit lobby, we did a bit more of the "go say hi" set up she's used to, and her mercenary stomach made her braver than ever.

She's 99 pounds today. Still heartworm negative, so the cheap method (that used to be what they did before prescription chewables) is still keeping her safe. Still popping a positive on Anaplasmosis, but we already did the ELISA and pathologist review that showed she doesn't actively have the disease, so it's a false positive/cross reaction with something else.

She was willing to take treats from the vet, and we'll be going back for a recheck in a couple weeks about a bump on Keeper's head. It's started to fade away now; started fading as soon as I scheduled a vet appointment. It's looking like Keeper has flea bite dermatitis (also fading since we saw the fleas- one on her, one on another dog- 10 days ago), so if something else bit her, that might be the cause of her head bump.

Keeper was also displeased with me for shaving her belly for summer. (or maybe it was the sanitation shave?) She hid behind Dad for about 10 minutes before she forgave me. I'll still need to get out the Mars Coat King and strip her down for summer, but the denuding process has started.

I had plans to do obedience drills with Duncan, to do online titling, since he wasn't really up for the stress of a show ring. Keeper doesn't love the obedience the way Duncan did, doesn't have the drive for it, or crave the puzzle-solving and precision of it.... but she humors me. So maybe we'll do some online titling, to amuse myself.

Keeper doing a 6 ft recall and finish
https://youtu.be/xThELWpXjBs

KU Natural History Museum

Keeper, Dad and I went to the KU Natural History Museum. https://biodiversity.ku.edu/visit

It was a blustery day, and we parked in the visitor's parking about a quarter mile away from the museum. Got to work through the edge of a crowd headed into the Kansas Union (looked like a school group on lunch break), and had one early middle-aged man step in front of us, plant himself and ask a

Blurry picture of Keeper staring at the display glass
out of frame is a mounted male lion.

question. I find that to be incredibly rude, as sudden stops can cause me a great deal of pain, so I answered his question as I sent Keeper around him, and never broke stride. I am really pleased with how good she’s getting at just keeping going, rather than wanting to pause and ponder.

We went in the accessible entrance, not the big stone steps out front. It's a big building, split for use as a museum and for classes and administration and such. It took us less than an hour to check out 3 of the 4 floors of the museum. (Neither Dad or I was super interested in the explanation of evolution floor, so we stepped in, looked about, and went back to the elevator to the next floor.)

Perhaps the biggest surprise was that the taxidermy mount of Comanche, one of the horses to survive the battle at Little Big Horn, is still there, still on display. My favorite part was the live snakes, particularly the hog-nose snake. I think the wolf spider in Bug Town was as big as my thumb. And there’s an indoor bee hive, with a clear acrylic tube going out the window, and it's fun to watch the bees. I'm glad we went.

Can't remember what she was looking at here- tiny model horses?
I'm always fascinated by what catches her attention.

Keeper was a bit stressed to be in a dimly lit area with loud children running by on the 3rd and 6th floors, but she did really good work and continued to accept treats, even if she was drooly. I think I'm most proud of the way she handled the taxidermied polar bear on the main floor. She saw it, and stopped in her tracks, then tried to sniff from a distance. We did a slow, curved approach, with me telling her it was fine, it was dead and wouldn't move. We got around behind it and she gave it a little sniff (not *quite* touching it) and then she was able to dismiss it and go back to her work. Lots of praise and cookies for that.

She did bop her nose on the glass trying to sniff one of the big fossil bones once, but for the most part she was very, very good about keeping her nose to herself even as she stared at a mounted lion, or other dead, posed critters. She's also a much, much better museum dog than Duncan was. She ambled along, waited patiently as I read things, or moved at good speed when asked.

Keeper doubts my intentions as she stands in front
of a triceratops skull (cast?).

I think what weirded her out the most was when I asked her to stay so I could back across the hall to use her for scale with a triceratops skull. Her body language –ears back, whale eye, tail down, stress panting and drool– was very unsure. I think she believed I was setting her up for some prank.

We did have a couple moments where a group of kids would all parrot “doggy,” but very few actually approached her, and those that did left her alone when I told them not to pet Keeper. (If you’ve seen the Mine! Mine! Mine! scene from Finding Nemo, imagine 10 kids saying “doggy” like that.) The walls of the hallways were glass to protect the displays, and the floor was tile. The sound was almost more than I could handle, and Keeper did good work through it all. It was nice how many kids already knew not to pet a service dog, and how on top of it most the adults were.

Keeper was even the stress-reliever for one kid in the live snake area. I heard one little voice say "Look, there's one animal you like here! Look at the cute dog!" and then they both smiled.

Then it was back out into the wind and lighter foot traffic of campus to the parking lot. Keeper's still not fond of being passed when she hasn't heard them coming, but it's a milder and milder "where did you come from?" reaction. There were a couple times she didn't even double take.

It wasn’t a long outing, but it was mentally demanding for both of us. I hope she found it at least somewhat enjoyable, as I surely did. I think the plan next week is to go to Cabela's.

Oil Change and Work

Went in for an oil change today. Keeper got to do a down/wait for an hour. Not a fan. Kept trying to work me for treats. I hit fast food on the way home. Came inside, dropped her leash, put things on the counter, turned around and she had her leash in her mouth, waiting for me to get her gear off and share the french fry wealth. :) smile emoticon

Then we went to work. She did some nice work there, though I think the winds have her a bit jumpy to start with. Well, that and the number of books we dropped this evening might be a record. All spot-checks for gravity found gravity to still be in working order. At least I didn't drop books on her head this time....

She's having a lot of fun looking for squirrels at work. I really wish I knew a place close by to work her on stock. Her herding instinct sometimes comes out in how she chases the other dogs, and I think it would be fun for me and fulfilling for her to work sheep or ducks.

Shoe Retrieves

Continuing work on "get the shoe" and "get the other shoe," now with two sets in the same area. Not pushing too hard, yet. The first pair was about 4 feet away from me, and the second pair was about 3 feet past that. So she went to the closest pair, brought me one, then brought the mate, then on to the farther pair. At this point we're still building concepts.

It also looks like I utilized Duncan for directed retrieves, and need to work with Keeper on concepts like up, down, left and right, distance and following a line. Since she does seem to see and be curious about a laser pointer dot, I might also see if we can use that to point out retrieve targets.

The day after

Tuesday the 29th, Keeper went with me to the local grocery store to grab medicine for Duncan. Then she got to practice being left home again as we ran him back to the ER. Yesterday, she had to deal with me being home but being shut out of my room, and then being locked in a crate as we took Duncan to the vet for the final time.

Last night, I needed to be out of a house that was too quiet, and too empty, so we went to work and she kept alerting to me forgetting to breathe. I made it 5 hours without crying about him, and she settled in on top my feet most the day.

Morning of March 31, I woke up from a nightmare that Duncan was dead to find that it was all too true, and the Burly Girly climbed up into bed and acted a goof to comfort me.

I don't know if she has any concept that Duncan's gone forever, or if she's waiting for him to show up again. After all, we took him out of the house on Sunday and I came back weepy, then we picked him up the next day. Maybe Keeper won't mourn him. I certainly do, and she's helping me with that.

Duncan's final days

I posted these to my Facebook account, and didn't think to cross-post because I was focused on him.

Tuesday and Wednesday (March 22nd and 23rd), Duncan was slow eating his breakfast. For a chow hound, that was a bit of a concern. I bumped his CBD oil intake to twice a day, and he ate with gusto again. Figured it was a joint problem or arthritis. Friday, he was a little worse and didn't want his dinner. Saturday he didn't eat breakfast, but the Setters and my parents were also sick. They all bounced back by that evening, and we got Duncan to eat a half cup of chicken and a half cup of mashed potatoes.


Sunday Duncan was feeling bad and running a fever of 103F (his normal is 100.5F), and he didn't want his breakfast again so we ended up at the ER vet. Fluid on his lungs. They pulled off about a liter (980mL). He stayed overnight to get first appointment with the internist Monday.

The ER vet guessed it was cancer, with maybe an infection on top of it. I went through 20 something kleenex in 4 hours at the e vet.


Monday they found a nodule in his chest on ultrasound. They pulled 140mL more fluid off his lungs to make his breathing as easy as possible, then took another set of x-rays. He came home while we waited for results.

Monday night he ate about 5 teaspoons of vanilla ice cream and an ounce or so of corned beef with his antibiotics. He wasn't super thrilled with it, but he ate. (His skull was so skinny.)

He was struggling, but I couldn't call it that night. He was breathing too fast, and grunt-whining, and it made me hurt to hear him. I couldn't get him up just talking to him, so I lured him out the door with *HIS* leash. He staggered around for a bit, peed, then got back in to his bed and floppped down without the customary turn around. It exhausted him to walk the length of the house twice. My boy who wore a prong for our half mile walk Friday before last, because he was full of pep and being a butthead.

I put the water bowl by his face and he got a big, long drink. His body wasn't quite shutting down yet, and I got a spark of hope. I grabbed some of the chicken that my parents put on to boil that was just warm, shredded a thigh out on a paper plate and put a bit of the broth in a bowl. Duncan didn't want much of the broth, but he ate all but a tablespoon of the chicken.

His respiration after the walk and the drink and the food was back below the 40 breaths a minute the specialist wants him to be at. Finally, instead of looking at me with wide eyes and a tense face, he looked to be drifting off to sleep. Finally, I could give him some measure of comfort.

"It's still looking like end stages, and it breaks my heart, but maybe the antibiotics will help enough that we can get a couple more good weeks, because I'm not ready."

Yesterday, Tuesday,
For my peace of mind and to give him the very best chance, I called out of work and we went in for the ER internist to tap Duncan's chest again. Sunday, they pulled 980mL. Monday, they pulled 140mL. Today, they pulled 70mL before the needle clogged with fibrin. There's not enough return on investment, it's not helping him as much as I'd hoped. That should be the last time we tap his chest; but we gained what ground we could.

Given the fibrin filling up his left lung, even if it's best case and it's fungal, he'll be a functioning asthmatic with about one working lung capacity. Given a more likely view that it's cancer, we're in hospice, and just trying to keep him comfortable until we can't.

He is breathing easier. He was a bit more bright-eyed on the car ride there. So long walks and fetch are of the reward list, but maybe he can be my ride along a few more times.

The appetite stimulant seems to be working. Whereas this morning I couldn't get him to finish half a chicken thigh, this afternoon he ate a slice (maybe 3oz) of corned beef and the other half of the chicken thigh. It's not really enough, but that's after one dose. I can hope he won't starve to death on me, at least.

I know most of my friends on here are part of Duncan's "Fan Club," having either met him in person, or seen me sing his praises online. I wish I had better news. We're doing what we can for him, I just don't know how much time that will buy him.

He's the dog who got me through college, my first job, and took me on so many adventures. He kept me on my feet or warned me when I'd fall. I trusted in him when I couldn't trust my own body to remain standing.

I wish the sky were green and pink polka dots, I wish water wasn't wet, I wish he would live forever, I wish this didn't hurt so much, I wish I'd had more warning. I don't think I'll ever be ready, but when it's his time we'll do right by him, the way he's done right by me for nearly 9 years.


And then today, a week and one day after his first "slow" breakfast, less than two weeks after we went for a half mile walk and he led the whole way, he was gone.

He took a turn for the worse in the night, and couldn't get up on his own, not even when I put on shoes and a coat and jingled *HIS* leash. He was done. I was able to get him into a slightly better position for breathing, and as soon as he could breathe, he was asleep and dreaming. He was exhausted from fighting for air.

This morning I helped him sit up, then heaved him on to his feet so he could go pee. He staggered, but managed the out and back, then collapsed onto his bed. I'd already called our local vet based on how he was throughout the night. We waited to go to the vet clinic he loved so much, because he looked worried we would leave him when we went to the ER vet yesterday. No more worries, big man.

It took Dad and me and a towel to get him out to the car, and then he had one last adventure as we slid him and the towel onto a gurney and he was carried inside. He checked that I was following, then he just enjoyed the ride with a big puppy grin. His people were there, and he passed easily. No more fighting to breathe, no more pain.

He was a good dog, and is loved and will be missed. It's all been so brutally fast it doesn't entirely feel real.

Unknown birthday in late summer 2006, Gotcha Day May 30, 2007, end of watch, March 30, 2016. He saved my life more than once, kept me from falling countless times, and I'll love him forever.

Keeper outings- garden club

Keeper's stays are going to be wobbly for a bit, but she's loving the "find me" games out and about. Tuesday was the Garden Club flower show prep. About a dozen people roaming about. Did our first "find me" as a still in sight, but people between thing, just social pressure and tables/chairs as obstacles. She went down the center of a rectangle of tables where there was no traffic (problem solving), and then fit herself through a gap instead of bulling under chairs (nice change in body awareness, that.) Decided to build on success, set it up again, this time with me in the kitchen off the main hall so she'd have to search a bit. Did just a one note whistle to see what she'd do, and because I'd have to shout to be heard over everyone else. She heard the whistle and was up and searching with glee. Did a swing by past Mom, but found me quickly. Last setup was into a darkened hallway, usually not something she's fond of. Did great on the recall, and then led on into the dark as if she'd never had a doubt. Did it all while being aware of and not bowling over people, or being negatively stressed. We used the handicap accessible, family style bathroom. It's bigger than my bedroom. Keeper wasn't sure what to make of all that space. She sniffed the floor drain and checked the door, then settled in to her usual position on top of my feet. Never coveted a bathroom before.... And her stays aren't broken, so much as she's defaulting to following me to see if we're playing that game right now. I got to working on a design with a newer club member for several minutes. Thought to look for Keeper and she had tucked herself under the table and was watching me. Not wandering about, not in anyone's way, and I hadn't said anything to her. Did a couple more "find me" recalls at work. It was a lovely slow day while I was shelving, so we did non-fiction without a leash, and unless I told her to "wait," she was always in reach. A bit more lagging behind to give diffidence to the cart than I'd prefer, but it's been a while since we shelved much. Asked her to step forward, especially around turns to the right, and it got better. Every time we went on the straightaway without a cart she had good speed and pull into the harness. Which probably means I ran over her toes with the cart last time and didn't notice (or turned and stepped on her or something) and she blamed the cart, not my terminally klutzy proprioception. I'm really enjoying that we can work on a handful of aspects of her work without her brain folding up like an umbrella. No more one behavior until it's mastered training. Working on out of sight recalls doesn't make the retrieve fall apart, and asking for more speed and momentum pull around the cart doesn't mean she's wandering around, having her push doors and drawers closed isn't leading to random nose bumps- unless I zone out staring at the pantry cabinet. She went over and nudge-nudge-nudged the door there to see if it needed closing a last half inch or something. Great reminder that she cues off my gaze and attention a fair amount of the time. (I think I was contemplating a plot line in a book I'm reading, nothing actually related to the pantry. But I stared at it, so it must be important.) It was a good day.

Sunny snuggles.

Sunny was very, very tightly bonded to Strider. When Strider returned to his breeder, she went through an emotional crisis. Separation anxiety led to her chewing holes in the wall while people were in the house, a lot of other damage to woodwork, etc. She missed her buddy and didn't have the emotional tools to handle it.

She became very defensive in regards to the other dogs in the house. Everyone else was bigger and got in her space and she didn't like it. She doesn't much like Twist's play style, but it is play. For the most part, Dad is who Sunny uses to gauge her safety now.

Additionally, given her size and the set up, I accidentally made Duncan very jealous of Sunny at first, and then three weeks later, there was Strider to be Duncan's puppy to babysit and play with, so Sunny was not one of 'Duncan's Puppies.' (Interestingly, Keeper sort of is, even though she was 24.5 inches and 90 pounds when she came here.)

There's been some animosity, and Duncan mostly steers clear of Sunny because of how quickly she can get offended and start snapping.

After her second heat cycle, Sunny has been snuggling up to Duncan. The first few times, he looked deeply concerned. Now, he just looks resigned. He'll be laying somewhere, and she'll come over and join him. Most of the time, she chooses to lay with her back to his belly.

I'm not entirely happy with this. I'm glad that after about three years of mourning she seems to be trying to make friends in the pack again. However, Duncan's 9.5ish. Sunny will be 4 at the end of April.

Given that age gap, I see this as a potential setup for another round of separation anxiety and stress and emotional turmoil for Sunny when Duncan passes first. I'd rather she buddied up to Keeper, who's not yet 3.5 and has a much greater likelihood of outliving Sunny, or at least being around for the bulk of Sunny's life.

But it is what it is, and Sunny's made her choice. Duncan was Blaze's buddy, and is Twist's Big Brown Safety Blanket, and now he's Sunny's choice of snuggle partner. Setters love the mutt-man, apparently.

*grumble*

Some days I seriously wonder if the people at the library have ever seen dogs be anything but pets. The number of *gasp* "AWWWW!" reactions was ridiculous. The lady sitting at a table sticking her hand out and calling to Keeper as we went by... She was almost close enough for me to low five. If Keeper had gone to the person calling her, she would have crossed in front of me, and then I would have faceplanted.

Bad enough they act like we're a traveling zoo exhibit, but then they unthinkingly, casually put me in jeopardy because they saw something they wanted and thought not one iota more. No thought as to why the dog is in a place where they don't usually see dogs, no impulse control on their part. Not even asking me if the dog is friendly or if they can pet the dog. (This is why I don't say things to people, because it would be a multi-minute tirade. They wouldn't learn anything other I'm angry, and I wouldn't feel any better.)

Keeper, for her part, ignored the people, other than to give the lady who stuck her hand out a "HELL no! Can't fool me!" look. In her mind there is to be NO touching while working- which is how Keeper has interpreted several thousand "leave it" cues, not my actual rule. My rule is the human has to be aware enough to ask me before making any move toward the dog, or any loud exclamation- I want to reward the polite people.

Keeper, however, is not on board with this plan. She works, no one touches her. People get invited to our house, she tries to be a Bernerful lap-puppy. My wake-up call this morning was a Berner elbow to the sternum as she tried to snuggle, so I can tell you Berner-as-blanket is not always a good thing.

Big Visits Sunday

Today started with going to the McDonald's with the play area so we could visit with my cousins with small kids. Keeper had a lot of thinking to do with the kids running by and laughing or screaming. She picked up and handed me a dropped pacifier, and was doing well tucked under the booth. Unfortunately, my body hated the seating, so she also did some alerting to my pain levels coming up, or me holding my breath because of the pain. She was polite with Mel petting her (on a "go say hi" cue) just before I bailed. Keeper doesn't do that well with adults she knows when she's working. (Still not sure how she decided that she had to avoid all petting while in gear, but she does.)

We got home, and I stripped her gear but dropped it in the kitchen to let her out in the yard to potty. She was back in as I moved her gear to the proper storage hook, and for the first time I remember, she didn't rush forward to get dressed and go to work.

We took a nap/laid down to rest/for the pain killers to kick in. By the time I was ready to go to work, she'd recharged and was peppy and ready to go. Did well at work, though she kept close tabs on me.

Came home, and the neighbors came over to deliver Girl Scout cookies. Keeper had way too much fun sniffing those little girls, and laid down to get petted by them both.

Then it was Walking Dead night and long stays and not being a lap dog. Basically a 9 to 9 day, she should sleep very well tonight.