The Beginning of The End...

Thursday, July 26th, 2018

     This is the beginning of the end for the World's Bestest Ever Psychiatric Service Dog, who also helped me with Mobility and Medical Alerts.

     Dakota is not well. She has several physical injuries and allergies. Medication helps her, but she will never overcome these problems. She has returned the keyboard to my "silver machine" in order that I may take over the typing. Since this is my first entry, allow me to introduce myself...

     I am a 65 year old white woman, mentally & physically "challenged". I've had Dakota since she turned 3 in 2009. I live in a little Community in Sacramento County, California. After running away from home, I joined the Army (USA MEDDAC), took Criminal Justice Classes during the day, since I worked the swing and graveyard shifts alone. I did well and got all "Excellent"s on my yearly Evaluations and straight A's in the Community College. Once I had left home and made a life for myself, I really flourished. The Army gave me a ton of responsibility which I thrived on, and the Criminal Justice classes were fascinating.

     When I left the Army, I moved to Iowa to be with my boyfriend. It was there that I entered the Law Enforcement field - a total of 28.5 years, from both sides of the mic. I had a blast! I followed one thing from the Academy with me for my whole career: "No one wants to lose their freedom. Only arrest someone as a last resort." I followed that bit of advice with me forever. I still made plenty of arrests for crimes in progress or warrants or drunk driving, etc. But in spite of all the arrests, I only had to go to court twice in those years. The Information's I wrote handed the Prosecutor's exactly what they needed, gave the Defense/Public Defender's Office enough to see they would not be able to win the case, so they all pled guilty - sure made my life easy!

     I'm wandering off the main topic because I don't want to face it... Dakota cannot live forever, nor even as long as I probably will. I cannot save her. There is nothing I can do to save her - I can only medicate, massage, meditate and pray that she wakes up the next morning and can spend that one day with me. 

     I simply cannot imagine life without her. I can't do anything without her at my side. Many have told me I should have, should now, get a puppy or another dog and start training it to replace Kota before she crosses so I won't be without a Psychiatric Service Dog. I have consistently refused and will not change my mind, regardless of the detriment to myself.

     On the 2 1/2 hour drive home with Dakota (when I first met her & asked to take her home for a 2 month trial period) I had told Dakota all the things I wanted her to do for me. Seat belted behind me, she lay there the whole ride with her hear up and ears perked at me as I talked the entire trip home. I told everything I was afraid of. I told her all the things I wanted to do. I told her how much help she could be to me if she wished to work for me. In return, when she could no longer work or no longer wanted to work, that I would care for her the best I could for the rest of her natural life and never bring another dog into the house to replace her. 

I have & I will keep that promise.

     So that's where we are now. I'm doing my damnedest to hold up my end of the promise. I pray that Dakota understands that. I pray she knows just how much I love her. I pray she knows how she has saved my life. I pray she understands that it was SHE who GAVE me a life. I will do my best at going on and keeping on...

 

Deb, for Kalifornia Kota

Good Grief, Is She Lost???

Tuesday - June 7, 2011

We had to leave at dark-thirty-early today to go to our new den in Antelope. I always thought Antelope were for chasing and eating, not living in. I've heard other dogs there, a little yappy dog is close by, and I've seen stray cats, but no antelopes. Very peculiar.

My partner had to be there to get a special present from the brown man. She said it was from someone called AT&T and it would be a silver box like she has on the picture box at home. It makes her silver machine go really fast so she can watch pictures that her friends send: Veronica sends her about super poodle Ollie, and Linden about her ever-lovely Iris, and Ellen about her super agile Rethey, and Deb with the hilarious Lolz Cats and Dogs. 

My partner is super excited about getting this present! She is going to save $150 by trying to install it herself. Yeah, right... we'll see just how far this brain fried human will get. And she's already told me this is yet another box I will NOT be allowed to play with. The problem is that we don't know when the present will arrive; we just know the brown man will come before the end of day.

So my partner took me for a little walk around the area, pretty much staying in sight of our new den. Since it was cool out, she went back to our moving crate and got out my long-line. We went in and got my football. She threw it for me and I ran really fast and grabbed it and made squeak! I was good at that. Then I'd drop it and smell all the good things around me and start to explore. My partner would walk over, show me the football and throw real far again. And I'd run really, really fast with all my feathers and petticoats flying in the whirlwind I created and grab that football and shake it and make it squeak! Boy, am I good at this game!

Then we went back inside. My partner was faced with about 60 big boxes of stuff from the old den. She would take them 1 by 1 to the room they belonged to. If it was possible, she'd unpack them and put the stuff away. Otherwise, she's stash them in one of the many closets. A week ago, Mom and Uncle Jeff had brought about 15 or 20 boxes down and put them in different closets. When my partner finished dealing with her boxes, she was getting all confused about there being too many boxes in the room closets and storage closets. She started getting real sick about it. She was wandering from room to room and from one storage closet to the next. She was getting worse and worse. I kept nudging her. I kept trying to herd her to the big room where we played and where she'd put some soft blankets down for me to lie on, but she wasn't listening to me.  Then she went away. I hate it when she goes away from me. So I had to jump on her and knock her back really hard. She almost fell over but she did come back! And I got a special cookie! 

Having a picnic on the football field of our new den.

After my partner calmed down from sitting on the floor with me she said it was time we took a well-deserved break. She got some things for herself and then she super-surprised me: she had brought me a meaty lamb rib! Wow, my partner loves me so much! (And I think she knows I love her too.) We had a nice little lunch right there on the football field. We both finally got to relax for a little while. And it was completely silent: no moving picture box, no music boxes, no birds were singing - just the peaceful sound of me chewing my bone.

After our calming picnic, I did a Paws Up on my partner and cleaned her face. She had salt on it. Then she began the long process of methodically going through each bedroom and closet, bathroom and its closet, and all the storage closets. She unpacked and put away what she could. The rest were put away in the proper storage closets. 

This time around, she took breaks every 45 minutes - I know because she brought a black box that had red numbers on it and that made a loud buzzing noise every 45 minutes. This was the same box my partner used to train me to wake her up every morning. But that was a long, long time ago - I sure don't need that now!

After my partner had done all she could do in our new den, she prepared the both of us to leave. She was going to ask the nice man across the street to accept our present from the brown man. She had put all the empty boxes in our moving crate, and had just put my seat belt on. She was in the kitchen getting her keys when I heard the brown man at the door and barked really loud to let him know I was here and was guarding this den. My partner came to the door, opened it, and we both looked out. The brown man was already half way down the driveway, so my partner shouted "Thank you!" and closed the door. The present was the one she was waiting for, so she put it away. 

The red numbers on the black box said it was after 5. My partner had already fed me at 4 which is normal for me. I already had my seat belt on, so we both hopped into the moving crate and went to our den in Marysville. We got there at 6 and my partner unloaded all the empty boxes. She was very, very tired, because she hadn't had any sleep at all for the last 2 nights. 

I tried to comfort her, and she did start to drift off around 9, but she was up again at 10 and never did go back to sleep. So while she worked on packing stuff, I fell asleep on the job, because I was really tired too. Whenever I wake up to check on her, she is massaging my head, neck and shoulders, telling me I'm a super good Kota and it's OK if I sleep; that she wants me to sleep, cause she will really need me tomorrow with the movers. So, I will keep on keeping on. 

Kalifornia Kota