obstacles in retirement

This is my post for The Sixth Assistance Dog Blog Carnival Because of back and shoulder problems, my four-year-old guide dog, a black lab Dee, is retired. We've had other obstacles in the past, but this is the one in my heart right now.

First, there are situational obstacles that do not allow me to keep her as a pet. I live in an apartment complex where no pets are allowed. the other major problem is lack of money. I am a grad student living on SSI and disability income. By the time I pay rent, electricity, and maybe the phone bill, I have enough money to pay for cabs or drivers and dog food for the new dog I will hopefully get some time this year. Even if I moved to somewhere pet friendly, it is not possible to pay for food, vet bills, toys, and grooming for two animals.

My next one was where did I want to place Dee. The guide dog school can placed retired dogs, but I would have no idea where she ended up, and I want updates for whoever has her. I had a few possibilities. One person who liked Dee would have given her a good home and attention, except there was no fenced in yard and Dee's off leash recall isn't as good as it should be. Another person was interested, but since she had a baby, she couldn't handle that and a new dog at the same time. Finally, I've been in contact with Dee's puppy raiser ever since I got her in 2009, and she gladly agreed to take her back.

Once she decided she wanted Dee, I had to figure out how to get her from Louisiana where I live to Oregon where she lives. GDB wanted to ship her as cargo, but I didn't like that. I was worried about her being under the plane in winter or that she would be lost in the airport transfers. I also want to say goodbye, and it feels like a better send off than putting her in a strange situation that might be scarey for her.

As I wrote before, I am on a fixed income, and plane travel is expensive. I talked to the guide dog school who will reimburse the price that it would have cost to fly Dee in cargo. I didn't have the money up front for the plane ticket. Fortunately,Dee's raiser paid for the ticket, GDB is sending her the check they would have sent to me, and I will give her the rest when I am able in a couple months.

Finally, there are emotional obstacles. I miss her guiding me; she was with me through everything: global issues conferences, interviews for journalism and research projects, my job working with blind children and  adults, blindness training in Minneapolis, graduation from college, and my move from Pennsylvania to grad school. She was always so confident with her head held high and her tail enthusiastically wagging, except when it rained. She was the reason why I gained confidence crossing busy city streets with my cane, so I could teach her that traffic wasn't scarey. She helped me balance when my hips were hurting and after I sprained my ankles. She kept me crossing in a straight line when I was dizzy from problems with anemia and hypoglysemia, so I wouldn't veer into oncoming traffic. I will miss her companionship, just lying on the floor and petting her or watching her excitedly play with the other dog and person who live with us.

Sometimes situations cannot be avoided or overcome. Even though it breaks my heart to put her in a new home, the dog who guided me through everything needs me to get past these final obstacles, so she can be free to enjoy her well-earned retirement  after her two years of service.

First major trip

In Feb. 2009, my second guide dog Zorro went back to Seeing Eye to be rematched with another handler. After that, I finished a semester, traveled some, and signed up to go to Urbana, a student global missions meeting in St. Louis starting the day after Christmas. I got Dee, my third guide dog, Nov. 16, 2009. She did an amazing job during our two-week training, better than either of my previous two guides. When applying for and being matched with a guide dog, it can sometimes take up to a year or more till the school finds one for you, so I thought I'd be attending with my cane. After I got Dee, I was a little nervous about how such a new guide would do there. I'd been to conventions with the National Federation of the Blind where 3,000 blind people gather to discuss important issues, but I had never been to a conference with over 20,000 college students.
We started our trip by riding 26 hours on greyhound with 3 bus transfers. I was exhausted by the time we got there, but Dee had boundless energy since she spent most of that time curled up under the seat sleeping. After dropping off my bags at the hotel and meeting one of my roommates, I think we took a local bus to register at the dome center. Travel in unfamiliar places was, and still is to some extent, difficult for me, especially when it is crowded. Dee was hesitant at first, not sure which paths to choose through the sea of people. After a quick dinner, we went to the welcome plenary session. The first event was worship with a live band and vocalists. This stressed Dee out; I could tell because she started continuously licking her paws and the floor. She settled down afterwards during the Native American dances and speeches. After the session ended, I followed some random people outside and asked for help finding the correct bus that went back to my hotel. On the way, Dee had an accident, again because of the stress. I was relieved to reach my room and go to bed, and I prayed the next day would be easier for Dee and me.
We started the next day by oversleeping, quickly running outside to relieve, grabbed granola bars from the buffet, and caught the bus 30 seconds before it pulled out. Since I was hanging out with my roommates, I had people to follow and ask for directions to all of the sessions. This time, and the other four days of the conference, Dee acted as if she guided in crowds every day. From the moment we got off the bus, her ears were forward and her whole butt was wagging. She did excellent obstacle clearance, and I only bumped into one person the whole time when she got distracted by someone with a peanutbutter sandwich.
Besides the week of guide dog training in Portland, I hadn't spent time in a city since 2005, so I wasn't used to that form of travel. All of my time was spent on campus paths or residential streets in my college town. Dee stopped for all of the curbs, traffic checked when necessary, and didn't sniff or eat food from the ground in restaurants or in the grocery store. She was also good during the evening meal when we got in line for the buffet.
By the end of the second day, the music, and people clapping, jumping, and singing didn't bother her, and she napped through the sessions. My roommates and random people commented on what a good dog I had, and I couldn't agree more. She showed me her best on New Year's Eve. We started at 7:30 AM as usual, and we didn't return to the hotel till 1:30 the next morning. We probably walked 4 miles that day between running from one end to the other of the two-block long building, wandering St. Louis looking for lunch and dinner, and stopping at the grocery store for snacks for the road. Dee was so excited as we were exiting the conference at 1 am because everyone was in a good mood, yelling happy new year, singing/jumping up and down, and blowing kazoos. She wiggled her whole body as she guided at a fast pace. At one point I had to have her sit, because she was trying to guide too quickly and was having trouble keeping her traction on the slippery tile floor. When we got back to the hotel, as she did every previous time we returned, she enthusiastically ran to each of us for pets and belly rubs before picking up her kong and running fast circles for two minutes before sighing and flopping down on the floor for a well-deserved few hours of rest.
This is just one of many times we have traveled together. She loved her guiding, played as hard as she worked, and again showed me what it was like to be part of a happy and effective guide dog team.
This is my contribution for The Fifth Assistance Dog Blog Carnival

different beginnings

When I was younger, I didn't have a dog or any other pet. We couldn't afford one, but even if we could, my mother said she didn't know how to take care of a dog and she didn't like cats. When I went for my first guide, I was excited and nervous. I couldn't wait to travel differently, but I also had no idea what I was getting into on the journey. When I sat in the room and Jessie brought me Valerie, I put her on leash and brought her back to my room. I remember thinking, OMG, what am I supposed to do; she is bigger than I expected; why is she sniffing me and why doesn't she wag her tail? When we walked, I was surprised how fast we could move. I also never wanted to cry more, especially when we got completely turned around in the middle of an intersection in the pouring rain.
When I got Zorro, I was feeling horrible. Valerie had retired four months earlier, but I had just given her to her new family the day before. I was at peace with that decision, but I was so numb and apathetic; I didn't know it then, but it was the start of my depression. Looking back, I should have waited to get another guide, but I missed the fast-paced, obstacle-avoiding that I had with Valerie during the times she was working well. I really don't remember much from that class, but I know I was very anti-social and I wanted to go home.
When I got Dee, I was in a recovery period of the depression cycle, and I was getting physical therapy, which lessened my back and hip pain for the first time in at least four years. This time, I was anticipating the dog; I went nine months without a guide, and while I was an ok cane user then, I missed the smoothness of walking together down the sidewalk or in a crowd. After the first three days, I knew she was the best dog I've ever had, and I told the trainers so. We had an evaluation at the end of the first week to make sure I felt I had the right dog, since it was only a two-week class. I was feeling wonderful, but I was also anxious. My other two guides didn't work out for me because of Valerie's health issues and my health issues as well as behavioral ones on Zorro's end. I had been rejected from seeing eye, so I was anxious about doing well at Guide Dogs for the Blind because I wanted to show that I was a good handler who could take care of my dog. I was relieved when the trainer and supervisor assured me again and again that I was doing fine, and that I should trust my instincts when working with my dog and not second-guess every decision I needed to make.

Dee update

Yesterday, Dee and I went to the orthopedic vet specialist. They did a physical exam first, where the vet said she has discomfort in her neck and pain in both shoulders. They did x-rays, and they found some arthritis and shoulder instability. She is going to have hobbles, braces to restrict shoulder movement, and she will have exercises that I can help her do. She might have physical therapy too. I talked to GDB yesterday, and they authorized $1,200 and said to call when it's about to run out. Dr. Patty asked me if i was hoping GDB would fund partial or all of it. I told her all of it, and if that didn't happen, Dee wouldn't receive physical therapy. Each PT session is $1,500, and for the eight that the vet wants her to have, that is $12,000. There is no way I could afford even one session.
It doesn't look good. Dee is in pain; the vet says the three to four months not guiding, and not playing or moving much should fix it. But I am weary of it happening again, and I don't want to cause Dee further pain by forcing her to guide. There is too much pressure and strength needed from the shoulders and neck, and I don't know if it will be safe.
I'm starting to ask people I know if they would take Dee or know someone who would in the probability of her retirement. I also have half of my application submitted to GDF; I just have the eye doctor report and video to shoot before it can go for review.

graduation

I am now a college graduate!!! I graduated last saturday with a B.A. in sociology and a B.A. in journalism. It was a nice day, thank God! Bloomsburg had been getting torrential downpours for the past two weeks or so, but it was sunny all morning. I decided to wear a black dress under my gown and sparkly brown flats, because I just do not like heals; I already have ankle issues, and heels on the bricks on the quad would not have been a good idea. I also had a graduation cap for Dee; she was not happy having something on her head, but everyone thought she was adorable. We took the shuttle for the last time to campus, and we got in line to process. I wasn't really sure where I was supposed to go. dr. Samson, the chair of sociology, saw me and asked me if I knew what was happening. I said I didn't, so she offered to walk in front of me and tell me when to turn and stuff. Dee did well guiding in the procession; she didn't stop to sniff the people clapping and cheering on either side of the isle, and she wasn't distracted by all the noise. She had trouble following though, so I'm glad Dr. Samson was talking to me. We were at our seats; for some reason, Dee didn't want to back up for me, so it took a few seconds to get her into the row instead of lying on the walkway. After that, there were some borring speeches, and we finally got to go up and get our diplomas. Dr. Samson walked beside me this time, and we stood there chatting in line while we slowly moved forward. While I was in line, I saw Dr. Omori, the professor I had for statistics and quantitative research methods. She surprised me by coming over and giving me a hug and said great job I didn't know you were graduating! We made it up the stairs and across the stage without issue. It took me a few seconds longer than everyone else because we were supposed to cary the diploma in the left hand and shake people's hands with the right, but I had to stop each time, drop the harness handle, and switch. On the way down from the platform, I saw my English professor as well as the professor I had for Italian and Spanish. After some more borring speeches, we were allowed to leave.
I was kind of sad because my mom wasn't there; she was sick and couldn't come, so the other family who was going with her didn't come either. However, my boss and his wife were there, and I was so glad to see them. I've worked for him, teaching people Braille, assistive tech, and other blindness skills since October of my freshman year. He's seen me through all three dogs, my depression crash, and everything else. We've spent at least 100 hours on the road, so we've had a lot of time to talk. I'm glad he never gave up on me, even when I was in the worst part of my depression and barely speaking to anyone.
Now I'm back in Altoona at my mother's house. I hate being here!!! She treats me as if I am a child. She keeps asking me if I'm going to eat; I don't eat on her schedule. She eats breakfast, lunch, and dinner all within seven hours. I can't eat like that; if I eat breakfast at 11, I'm not hungry again till 6 or 7 at night. She says she's not a 24 hour kitchen, but I fix my own food so it shouldn't matter to her when I eat. She is also the same way about Dee. Does Dee have water; make sure you give her enough food. Does she need to relieve. I take her out four or five times per day, but my mother thinks she should go out every two or three hours.
We now have a possible idea what is wrong with Dee. When we went to the vet last week, I explained again that she was having trouble putting pressure into the chest strap, going uphills, ETC. They pushed on her and pulled her, but they said she wasn't yelping or flinching or anything; I said that didn't mean much since that wasn't her usual reaction. They took her outside and had her run circles in the parking lot; they came back inside all surprised because they said that was the first time they had a dog refuse to make left turns and run. After that, they took her to x-rays where she surprised them again by being perfectly still and not struggling in position. They found a pin-sized bone chip missing/floating in her left shoulder blade, and there is a separation between the servical vertibre 6 and 7, the ones from the neck to between the shoulder blades. Now, they want her to have a myelogram; they put her under anesthesia for awhile and put dye and stuff into her spine to see if the nerves are pinched. If they are, she will have to have surgery to have the disk removed so the two bones won't be separated anymore. Now that I'm $350 poorer and have to spend more of my scholarship money on vet costs, I might be staying here for the summer. I wanted to go to the NFB convention in Orlando, but if Dee has to have surgery, I won't be able to go. Please pray and send good thoughts for Dee; I miss having her work for me.

sad Dee update

Dee is the best guide dog I've had. She has been my travel buddy and helper for the past 1.5 years. I got her NOvember 2009, and we went from Portland Oregon to school. Two weeks later, the semester ended, and we moved to my mother's house for a week for Christmas. After that, we traveled to St. Louis on a 26-hour greyhound buss ride to attend Urbana a global missions conference attended by 20,000 college students. That was the first time I saw Dee's wonderful skills. After the first few hours of being stressed, she handled everything beautifully. Her pace was fast, but she slowed when she needed to. Her head was up, and her whole body was wagging. My roommates and others were amazed at how calm and focused she stayed. She even slept through the worship music which was loud and many people were dancing and jumping up and down.
When Urbana ended, we went to Philly to see friends and moved back to school. In May 2010, I moved to Minneapolis to attend BLIND, Inc. I wrote before about her reactions to a close call with a bus. Also while in Minneapolis we went to the Minnesota fair, an 8-mile hike, and just did everyday activities like going to dinner and movies with friends and grocery shopping. We moved to four different apartments while there and camped in Wisconsin, flew to Dallas to a huge hotel with 3,000 other blind people, and traveled to Chicago and Harrisburg to speak about blindness training. Dee was wonderful through all of that travel and change, so I hated sending this email to Dee's puppy raisers.

Hi Shelley,
Dee is not doing well. She is still a wagging tail dog and glad to see people and be petted, but she isn't guiding. I think I told you we fell on the ice a couple months ago. We went to the vet where they gave her prednazone for the inflamation. It helped for a little while, but as soon as she was off of it she was walking funny again. We went to the dog chiropractor and he adjusted her; it gave her stronger pull in harness some of the time but not enough to be constant. We are having x-rays done; they think it is a nerve or disk injury since she is a little flinchy when they pull her paws forward and is jumpy when I pet her in the middle of her back. My roommates said it sometimes looks like her back legs are going to give out when she is playing with her kong. She is very slow all the time and has difficulty getting out of the way of fast-moving people and traffic. A couple weeks ago, cars were coming up right behind us and she didn't speed up at all. She also has difficulty going uphill and making turns. Right now I am waiting for GDB to decide whether they are sending an instructor here or if they want to bring her back to them for evaluation to see what is wrong and if she can continue working. This makes me sad; I miss my fast-paced energetic girl who had plenty of initiative for everything especially crowd and traffic work. I take her with me if I am going to one class, but if I am doing class and errands afterwards, I leave her home and bring my cane.
I graduate next weekend, and I can't wait to be done here. I got Dee a doggie graduation cap, and I am going to have her guide there since it will be a short walk.

Martha

I thought it might be her nails so I trimmed them. She had a paw pad issue before, so I added paw healing balm and musher's secret but that didn't help either. She is also taking joint supplements that I get from International Association of Assistance Dog Partners Part of me says the medical issue can be fixed; we just don't know what it all is yet and haven't found the right combination of treatment. The other, more practical, part of me says I know the signs of retirement and it won't be able to be fixed. She runs away from and actively avoids the harness. She wags her tail while working, but it isn't as much as it used to be. She doesn't take the initiative to go around obstacles or find a clearer pathway to somewhere. If it took us 10 minutes to get somewhere before, it now takes at least 15 on a good day. I can no longer trust the dog who saved my life from a bus that came too close on the relatively quiet streets of my small town, let alone in a city with all the traveling and moving I need to do in the next three months. Please pray for Dee and me to make the right decision for our partnership.

staying in touch

This is one of several upcoming posts I'm bringing over from my other blog.

Working with a guide dog involves many people: the people at the breeding station, the staff who cares for them in the kennels, and the trainers who teach them how to guide. However, the puppy raisers and the people who have them after they retire are an important part of the process.
I received my first guide Valerie in July 2006. At first I agreed with other students that I didn't want contact; I don't remember why, but that's how it started. A couple months later, I changed my mind. We received a puppy profile with basic info: name, age, what kind of environment, habbits of the puppy, how did the puppy let you know when it wanted to relieve ETC, but I wanted to know more. I also started to think that if I had raised a dog for a year, I would want to know how he or she was since it was like losing a family member with no idea what happened for the rest of his or her life. My puppy paper had the first names of the main raiser, her sister and brother, and the parents. I did a search online and found their last name. I found the main raiser on one of the social networking sites and sent her a message letting her know I had her former puppy and asking if she and her family would want to stay in contact. At first, she thought I had the wrong person, since Valerie's name didn't match. I knew that since Valerie was a reissue, a dog that had a previous handler, that she had another name. After we confirmed my information was correct, we started chatting on AIM, and I got to learn fun things about my dog. Valerie was the focus of her senior project for high school, so she was used to being busy and surrounded by lots of people. She went to volleyball games, bowling, the mall, and the airport. She had dog and cat friends, and she loved to cuddle with anyone who would hold her. She knew bed time, and she would come down the stairs to stair at people to come with her. I shared info about how it was to work with her in college. I told her how my French professor always pretended to offer Valerie coffee and tell me seeing her made him feel better on bad days. She loved to curl up in a beanbag chair and take a nap. She did a good job guiding through crowds of students, and I had never felt comfortable walking that fast before I got a guide dog. I also shared my struggles. How I got hopelessly lost for the first three weeks going to class on a new campus every day, how she would sometimes not move faster even with correction, and that she would scavenge for food on the ground.
Once we had been chatting for a couple of months, I said they could come visit Valerie and me if they wanted to. We met, and that was awesome. We talked for a couple of hours, while everyone petted Valerie and gave her beloved belly rubs. They took lots of pictures, and they gave us presents. There was a squeaky hamburger and a nylabone; Valerie of course has destroyed the nylabone, but she still has the burger. They also gave me a water bowl/bottle holder, a bone keychain, and my favorite, a photo album. It shows her from the day they got her at two months old to the postcard they received in the mail from when she was in training at The Seeing Eye; it is one of the things that is always with me, no matter how many times I have moved since 2006. We also met again a few months later when I went to their house for the weekend. It was great getting to see where Valerie was raised. I learned she loved to sit on a certain step and stare out the window at all the people passing by. She loved to chase snowballs with the other dogs in the family. She knew how to balance a treat on her nose, throw it up in the air, and catch it before it hit the floor. We went to the mall, a bookstore, and the movies, where they got to see Valerie guide and do her job well.
Over the next few months, I began to realize that we wouldn't make it long as a team. I called the school every three months or so with maor issues; they would straighten out for awhile, but then something new would happen. I also noticed her continuing health problems with infections and tiredness. It was eventually determined that she was stressed and had alergies to chicken, wheat, rice, and 17 other outdoor-related things. I was worried that they would be upset or angry that Valerie wasn't going to be working for a long time, but they were awesome and supportive.
When she retired, it took me a few months to find and decide on a final home for Valerie. The school would have gladly placed her in a loving home, but again, I wanted contact and would have had none if I had gone that route. She is now with one of my former roommates friend's parents about an hour away from where I go to school. I forwarded the puppy raisers the new contact info, and they went to visit her once she had been settled. The lady who has her now and I send emails every few months; I ask how she is, and she shares stories. Valerie goes for walks a couple times per day; I taught her with clicker and treats, and Valerie continues getting treats for sitting at the corner and other things. One day, she refused to move from the corner and cross the street till she received her reward. She chases grasshoppers, loves to steal tomatoes from the garden, and has dog and human friends, especially the little children in the family. I have seen Valerie twice since she retired almost 2.5 years ago. She is happy, healthy, and stress-free, and that is all I wanted for her.
As her raiser told me, "inside the heart of every dog guide beats the heart of a puppy raiser." I also say inside every former guide dog is the love of a handler who always tried to make the right decision for the dog based on his/her needs, even if it was hard hurt at the time.
This is my submission for The Second Assistance Dog Blog Carnival I hope you take the time to read posts by others who made decisions involving assistance dogs.

reaction time

Until last year, I spent most of my time in small towns. When I got Dee in 2009, we worked in Portland for a week, so I knew she was confident and did her job well. During training, I was nervous with all the traffic and people, but it was just an every day occurance for Dee.
In May last year, I moved to Minneapolis to attend BLIND, Inc., an adjustment to blindness center where I learned to travel independently and other skills. We took the bus to and from the school every day, so I knew the route well. I had been there about two weeks and was gaining confidence with my travel skills; but, I was still having trouble knowing which were two-way and four-way stops and wasn't sure when we should cross on streets with heavy traffic.
We were walking the two blocks to take the bus home for the evening. There was no traffic moving, but I heard a bus or truck on the other side of the road. I waited a few seconds, and still there was no movement. I told Dee forward, and she went at her usual fast pace. All of the sudden, about 3/4 of the way across, the bus pulled out. I wasn't sure what to do since we were already in motion, but Dee took care of everything excellently. I could feel the bus a few inches in front of my face. She shoved me back a few steps with her body, and she spun me around to face the way we had come from. The bus grazed my left shoulder and kept going. I think I was kind of in shock; I petted Dee and told her good girl, hopp up? We turned back around and finished the crossing, and after we got on the curb, I knelt down to hug her and give her treats. If she hadn't shoved me back and spun me around, I probably would be dead or critically injured.
She seemed fine for the next two days, but that Saturday, she began acting afraid every time we approached a corner. She stopped somewhere between five and ten feet from the edge of the curb; when I got her to the edge and clicked/treated for the approach, she either sat down or immediately ducked behind my legs and faced sideways down another sidewalk. Even when I was sure we had a light and told her forward, it took two or three commands to get her moving; when she entered the street she was slow and hesitant when approaching the up curb.
After talking to GDB, they suggested that I help her gain her confidence back by working her on quieter street crossings and praise and c/t at the upcurb every time she responded well. On the busy streets, I dropped the harness handle and healed her across using my cane. Needing to help Dee feel safe in the street prompted me to practice my cane travel more, and it made me have to be confident in my street crossings. If I wasn't sure, that would travel down the leash and the cycle of problems would continue. After two weeks of this, she approached the curb and only took one step back. At this point, I had her guide me across the busy streets, but I still carried the cane in my other hand, just in case she froze in the middle.
At the beginning of July, my confidence had grown a lot, and Dee's was pretty much returned. What sealed it was traveling to Dallas for a week and working in a new busy environment. My Dee, the wagging, fast-paced, confident guide showed herself again. People told me I should send her back to the school and getg another dog, but I knew we could make it through. I am thankful we worked it out. Her quick reaction and fast movement allowed me to live, and in turn, weboth gained the confidence we needed to keep traveling.
This is my entry for The Third Assistance Dog Blog Carnival

Grieving the Loss Part II

Before she retired, Valerie went back to Seeing Eye for a month of evaluation. She did fine there, but she didn't have the constant work like she had with me. After 2.5 weeks of my evaluation, I told them that that was enough and I wanted to retire her. They wanted to send her out as a guide for a third handler! I absolutely refused, citing my ownership, her expenses which many blind people can't afford, and her stress and exhaustion. After talking it over some more, they completed the paperwork in October of my sophomore year, 15 months after I picked up her harness handle for the first time.
I was not known for crying; Beckie and I had been best friends at that point for four years, and having the access issue aththe B&B was the first time she had seen me cry. When I was first considering retirment for Val, I cried more than I had ever cried in my life. I cried with frustration when she was slow and signaling with everything she had that she was too stressed and tired to guide, with anger because it wasn't supposed to be this way since many guides work for 6 years or more, and with loneliness since she was my constant companion. I cried when I realized I could make much better time with my cane. I cried when she always wagged her tail and gave me doggy kisses when I returned from class. Finally, I cried every time I made contact with someone asking if they could take Val, only to be told I should let the school do it or they didn't want her for her expenses, too many dogs already, ETC. After three months of searching, I found a family for her. When the day came to say goodbye, I didn't cry; I had made peace with her retirement, and it was what was best for her.
I was emotionally, mentally, physically, and financially depleted. All of my friends, except one roommate, were graduating that semester. I began missing deadlines, lying to too many people, lost concentration with textbooks, and didn't have interest for my usual activities. Losing my Valerie to retirement was the most overwhelming, personal loss I consciously dealt with. I grew up emotionally reserved, often to the point of detachment, because if I had differing opinions or feelings, I was shouted down by my mother or other authority figures. I think all of these factors built up to trigger my crash into depression.
Many people retire dogs or lose pets; that shouldn't have been so traumatic for me. However, since I had not grieved my losses from adoption and had been subconsciously repressing my feelings about it for years, it sent me over the edge. Just because my mother had happy feelings since she had infertility issues and got a baby does not mean I always shared those feelings. The newborn baby in me grieves my first mother who abandoned me at the hospital because she had six other children to feed and could not feed herself, since we both were malnourished. I grieve the loss of what could have been, the family traditions, the culture and language of Paraguay, of growing up with people who sounded, acted, and looked like me. I grieve the loss of medical history, a birth certificate, and other documents that make it easier to track the past. I grieved never knowing other adopted children or adult role models who could help me deal with these feelings. It's a primal, still opened wound, that I did not, and in many ways, still don't know how to handle. I grieve having a parent who would have let me express these feelings, even if it went against what she felt I should believe about the adoption process.

grieving the loss

I've never felt very close to my family. I always participated in the activities, picnics, and family reunions, but we just don't seem to have much in common. One of my uncles died when I was 12, but I wasn't very affected; maybe I was detached, I don't know. My mother told me the little info she had about my adoption, but I never felt comfortable expressing my true feelings about it to her.
When I was 18, I got my first guide dog Valerie. I never had a dog before, so this was a totally new experience for me. I remember thinking she was huge (she is a 48-pound black lab), and I was uncomfortable when she licked me. I didn't know what her signals meant, when she needed to relieve, when she wanted to play, ETC. I stayed at Seeing Eye for a month, and I got used to her and her signals. I went back to my mother's house, and three days later, I moved to college to start my freshman year. I was sooo overwhelmed. I wasn't prepared well with orientation and mobility, and I didn't know how to explore new areas on my own. I spent my first two-three weeks lost on campus. I asked people for directions, but I never took the same way to and from a building twice, so I couldn't form my mental map. My roommates and floor mates were in to drinking, smoking weed, and partying, and that isn't my thing at all. I was feeling alone and lonely, and having Valerie helped so much with that. She was confused because I wasn't giving her consistent feedback at the beginning since I was so lost myself. If I don't tell the dog where I want to go, she can't help me get there.
After the first few weeks, I had a general idea of the locations I needed to know. I had also started talking to people in classes, joining campus volunteer activities, and having lunch/coffee with friends. Valerie snored threw chem class, and I almost joined her. She went with me to campus movies and curled up with me in the beanbag chair, even though she wasn't supposed to. We went to plays and concerts. We experienced navigating threw snow and continuous campus construction at the same time. They moved the fences every day from January threw July, and it was always an adventure going to class. We had fun at new year's where she stole a chicken leg and carried a pug in her mouth as if it were her puppy. We went to Washington, D.C. to lobby Congress for accesssible textbooks and the Louis Braille coin. We went to Baltimore where we saw a dolphin show, walked for hours, and got followed by tourists with many small children.
Through all of these happy experiences, we had significant problems. We were alwys at the vet because she was constantly scratching, and they gave her more and more medicine for bacterial infections that never seemed to go away. She also got a UTI, which put her out of work for three weeks. One vet insisted she had mange and it couldn't possibly be alergies since she was only three. After ligistical issues with my college town vet, we finally scheduled sskin alergy testing with a vet hospital in New Jersey. What should have been a simple trip turned out to be ridiculous. My friend Beckie and I missed the greyhound bus by five minutes. I refused to go the next day and lose $120 in B&B fees, so we were going to take a later bus and transfer to another later bus. Her family decided they didn't like that idea, so they drove us to New Jersey. We got stuck in traffic in a constant downpour, got lost, and a 3.5 hour trip turned into six hours.
When we arrived, the B&B owner made an access issue by saying she didn't allow pets in her home because a family member was alergic, and she had some other nice hotels she could recommend. Hers was the cheapest in the area, and she wasn't legally allowed to do that. After explaining the laws and threatening to get the police involved and file a law suit, she backed down. We went to the vet's the next day and it turned out that Valerie was alergic to 17 tenvironmental things, as well as three foods I had found threw an elimination diet. The shots were $300 per month. I had paid on carecredit for the vet visit and on credit cards for the travel and B&B.
I didn't have much money as a college student, so I used at least $2,000 from my scholarship to pay the care credit and four months of alergy shots. The shots combined with benedryl made Valerie exhausted. Since she had previous working issues, was too tired for my active life, and since I definitely could not afford her continuing care, she was retired.