About thetroubleis: Thetroubleis is a 19 year old with bipolar disorder, social anxiety disorder, generalized anxiety disorder and dyspraxia. She’s a WOC who is also a transracial adoptee and pansexual/queer, depending on how she’s feeling that day. She enjoys knitting, video games and is a music geek.
How I came to path of getting a service dog* was a long, strange journey. My experiences are my own and by no means represent the entire service dog community. My country and state laws are most likely different from some readers as well, so I’m only writing from my own perspective.
I’ve been bipolar since I was child along with my other disabilities, so I don’t remember being normal. I’ve always just been me. I am my normal. Although my other illnesses were diagnosed latter, looking back i can see how they impacted my child and now, how they affect my adulthood.
In junior year of high school, I was reading up on dog training, because I thought that might be something I’d want to do as a job. I’ve always like dogs, they don’t judge me and my Samoyed Kesha loved me unconditionally. One day I came across the topic of service dogs and was so amazed by them. I put the thought of them away in my mind until I read across the concept of psychiatric servicee dogs.
At first, I was skeptical. How could I dog help someone like me? I thought that service dogs were only for people with “real” disabilities. My mental illness wasn’t disabling, was it? Just because I couldn’t go out in public alone or deal with crowds didn’t mean I was disabled. Loud noises and lighting hurting and causing melt down was just part of who I was. It took me some time to to come around to the idea.
When I realized all the way in which I dog could help me, I read and read. Anything with even a small mention of service dogs was worth reading to me. I came up with a list of tasks based on my symtoms and things a dog could do the help them. I was ready.
Sadly, service dogs, especially types that are very new are expense. Psychiatric service dog are pretty new on the scene and the one program I had found in my state that trained them had closed. I was crushed. I tried to brush it off, because I didn’t have the money for a dog anyway. That was about to change.
I headed off to my first year of college and did badly after being cut off from my medication for a time, along with personal problems. I was called back home several times, because my parents had decided to sue my former high school for discriminating against me. They choose to settle.
My money problems were solved! Now where was I going to get a dog? I know it was best to buy from a breeder with service dog lines because even though some shelter and rescue dogs work out as service dogs, the chances of them washing out is much higher. I knew I’d have a hard time with my dog washing out, so I wanted to lower that chance as much as possible.
I started hanging out on Dogster.com and met a psychiatric service dog handler named Veronica who shared a disability with me. She was using a pit bull Weimriner mix as a service dog, but the dog was getting older and had to retire. She had picked a Standard Poodle to train as her next service dog and although I wasn’t partial to the breed, I went and checked out the breeder.
He was so nice. His wife friend were both service dog users, so he knew so much. We talked about what I was looking for in a dog and what tasks I wanted done. He said he thought I’d be a great home for one of his puppies and I put down a deposit and waited.
Sadly, with my puppy being in California and me and Maine, it was hard to coordinate a proper short flight for the puppy. He was already going to keep Figaro for a few extra weeks to get him used to the crate, but I ended up not meeting my dear boy until he was 4 months old. We ended up driving all the way to Boston to get him, but it was the best, safest flight for him, so I didn’t mind.
I had to finish up at school before we could commence training, so he went home with my parents, three hours away. When I finally came home, he took right to me. He’s was lovely boy, very intent on pleasing me. Teaching him was pretty easy, even for a novice like me.
I found another service dog school, one that helped owners train their own dogs. We signed right up. They have been an invaluable resource and i couldn’t to all I have without them.
Figaro and I were a team, the very best of friends. I spent that summer just bonding with him and the best thing happened. He started to alert to my panic attacks before they went full blown. I had been hoping he would, but hadn’t expected it. When I realized what was going on, I was ecstatic. He had his other tasks to make him a service dog, but this, the alerting was so helpful. My bipolar disorder is extremely rapid cycling and he started to alert me to that, as well as hair plucking. I hadn’t fully realized what a smart dog he was.
This partnership was the best thing I have ever done for me. I still take my pills and still go to see my doctors, but having a service dog in training is a big help. Although Figaro meets the legal definition of service dog, I only call him such in legal situations because his public access behavior isn’t where I would like it right now. Thus, he isn’t with me in public unless it’s a training exercise. That’s okay though, because I stay home for the most part. It’s nice and I have to admit having something need me is pretty great too. It’s good to not fail at something, to have purpose.
Next time, I’ll be writing about the public and service dog community.
* I’m using the United States of America’s of service dog and the state of Maine’s definition of service dog in this post. The USA’s definition is as follows:
“Service animal means any guide dog, signal dog, or other animal individually trained to do work or perform tasks for the benefit of an individual with a disability, including, but not limited to, guiding individuals with impaired vision, alerting individuals with impaired hearing to intruders or sounds, providing minimal protection or rescue work, pulling a wheelchair, or fetching dropped items.”
The state of Maine’s definition is
“Service animal” means:
A. Any animal that has been determined necessary to mitigate the effects of a physical or mental disability by a physician, psychologist, physician’s assistant, nurse practitioner or licensed social worker; or
B. Any animal individually trained to do work or perform tasks for the benefit of an individual with a physical or mental disability, including, but not limited to, guiding individuals with impaired vision, alerting individuals who are deaf or hard of hearing to intruders or sounds, providing reasonable protection or rescue work, pulling a wheelchair or fetching dropped items.