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I worked Frankie again today. We went to HEB ( The H.E.B. for those in Texas) to get some fruit and stuff. He was pretty good with distractions and has a very nice down stay. But, damn, he's fast! I describe him as being like a fast car with no steering or brakes. When he's really focused on pulling and he feels the pressure on his harness, he just wants to go faster! Fast does have it's place. I know he'll have no trouble pulling me up ramps and such. But slow is needed too, like when we're careening around a corner and there's an end-cap display of pickles. In glass jars. Stacked in a pyramid. Are you picturing pickle juice all over the place? Do you know how hard it is to get rid of pickle smell? If you were to go back into that HEB in 2 weeks, would you still smell pickles? I think YES. This didn't happen to me, but I'm just sayin'.... ya never know!

When I took Frankie out to work yesterday, I did some socializing along with the exposure work. It actually happened accidentally... I wasn't planning on allowing petting, especially since he's been weaned off it for a long time now. He's gotten more like Willie where he doesn't look for petting and if he does get pet, he just sits there. Doesn't lean into a nice ear scratch, doesn't pant or wag his tail like a maniac... just sits there. And that's the way I like it. Yesterday, when I was in the reptile store, a little boy came up behind us with his dad and just started petting. Frankie just sat there. Then another little boy with his dad approached us from the front and that little boy started petting. Then the Dad-Without-A-Clue says: "Is it OK if he pets your dog?" I say (looking into both little boy's eyes): "It's OK, but you should always ask first before petting a strange dog." The Dad-Without-A-Clue says: &q

Today was the first time I've ever "worked" Frankie alone. By myself... no Rick, no Willie. And it was pretty good! I put the word "worked" in quotes because Frankie's still in training and it shows. He still lacks those little nuances that Willie has. Here's a few things he still needs to get: Slowing down the pace inside a crowded store. He still tries to go at break neck speed, and it's my neck that's gonna break! Anticipating turns. Not sure if this is a mind-meld thing I have with Willie, or if he feels when I'm starting to lean into a turn. Since I know Frankie doesn't have this skill yet, I try to give him ample prep time to do a turn so he doesn't get his footsies run over. Relaxing on a down/stay. Frankie's down looks like a cheetah ready to pounce. He's laying down, but his belly isn't touching the ground. It takes him quite a while to relax completely. Settling down in the car. Frankie is still st

Yesterday, the hubby and I worked both doggies. I worked Willie for the start of the outing, and then decided to give Frankie a try since he had done so well a few weeks ago (see here ). Frankie always starts out pulling like he's going to a fire. But then he finds his rhythm and pulls at a slower pace. Unfortunately, his "slower pace" is pretty dern fast! When we got home, I undressed Willie and Rick undressed Frankie. We both have our undressing rituals: after I undress Willie, I say "thank you for helping me" over and over and he rubs on my legs like a kitty cat. An 80 pound kitty cat! Rick undresses Frankie and then says "give me a hug". Tall Frankie jumps up and puts his arms on Rick's shoulders and they hug. Well, when we got home yesterday, Rick said "give me a hug"... Frankie ran over to me, jumped up and hugged me!!! That was a first! I guess he remembered that he worked for me and wanted to give me some lovin'.

This is a story about my first Wheelchair Service Dog, JoJo. She was very special, not only because she was my first, but because she wasn't originally predestined to be a Service Dog. Then again, I never thought I was predestined to be a crip, so I guess it all worked out. We got JoJo in 1992. I had just started having unexplainable symptoms in my legs and for some reason I thought "I want a dog". I had always said I didn't want a dog because they tie you down... well, it's a great thing that I changed my mind. But I had to then convince Rick that he wanted a dog too. I almost tricked him into going to the place where I knew there were puppies thinking he couldn't say no to those little faces. But I thought better of it and so we discussed... and discussed... and discussed! Rick was not an easy sell. That is until a friend from work brought in her new schnauzer puppy for him to see... and she wasn't even a co-conspirator. As I thought, seeing a puppy fac

A depressing moment for me last year was when Christopher Reeves died. For me, he was the symbol of hope for nerve regeneration. He was pushing the technology, pushing the scientists and doctors, and testifying before government bodes for more stem-cell research. All things that I, as a Lowly-Non-Celebrity-Although-I-Like-To- Think-I'm-Famous citizen, could not do with as much success. For me, nerve regeneration is the only thing that will be able to give me a "cure". As long as not too much more time passes. I guess this is the article where I explain what is actually wrong with me. So here goes: Last year I was finally diagnosed. I have a name for what's wrong with me, albeit a very long name. It is: Moderately Progressive Axonal Motor Neuropathy. Basically it means I don't walk so good! My symptoms started when I was 29 and I'll be 44 this year. I had unexplained fatigue in my legs along with terrible nerve pain (picture a knife stabbing your calves and

This is the story of the first time we visited my grandparents with Willie. My grandmother had numerous stuffed toys, dolls and figurines, many that she made with her own hands over many years. Some were very precious to her and I had suggested she put those away, or at least up high so Willie couldn't see them. Willie does like playing with the stuffed toys we buy him, but they typically last about 5 minutes. Then they are reduced to stuffing, eyes, outer covering, and a squeaker. In other words, trashed. When we arrived, Willie took one look around at the remaining toys and statues and he was in heaven. My grandmother had put away some of the stuffed toys in the closet in the room we were staying in. It was a closet with a sliding glass door. Later that night, Willie came slowly walking out of our room. He had one of her stuffed toys in his mouth. He walked slowly up to her and sat down, still holding the toy. He just looked at her... as if to say: "can I play with this?&quo

We have a sick dog today. Well, technically he's sick, but you wouldn't know it by looking at him. Frankie apparently got into something he was allergic to yesterday. At one point yesterday afternoon, I looked at his face and his eyes were all swollen. By the evening, his ears were as thick as flap jacks. Thick with pus. Ew. Gave him Benadryl yesterday and this morn, but he wasn't looking any better. So Rick took him to the vet this afternoon. She's having us double his Benadryl dosage (2 pills every 8 hrs) and we'll hopefully see improvement soon. Since he has no obvious bites anywhere, she thinks he got into some plant he's allergic to. Now, you'd think that a dog on that much Benadryl would be out of it. Not Frankie. His personality is fighting that Benadryl sleepiness, and the Benadryl has lost! Get well soon, Franklin Green Beans.

There's a pet store in Austin called Zoo Keepers. It's full of some pretty exotic animals, like pygmy hedgehogs, chameleons, a sloth, spiders... ew, spiders. The store has lots and lots of smells. Great place for exposure training a service dog. Rick and I went in there with both Frankie and Willie. Now, Willie's been in many different pet stores, and is pretty use to all the smells. But this day he would not go forward towards the back of the store. Granted, this day there was a very strong odor throughout the entire store, but apparently there was something back there he did not want to go near. I eventually coaxed him to go towards the back and as we moved, that smell got stronger. Once we got all the way to the back, there was a tall cage that looked empty. The owner came over and said that there were 4 sugar gliders hiding in the cage. Aww, they must be cute, eh? Wait, there's more. He proceeded to tell us all about sugar gliders. Like, that smell... that&

Thanks to all who are listening to " Cry, It's Never Too Late " on my SoundClick music page . As of today, it's #11 on the Electronica:Mellow chart and still climbing! Here's another one of my songs that I'm very proud of: " Pieces Of Time ". It was written/recorded quite a while ago, back in the late 80's/early 90's. Kind of your typical pop ballad of the time, but I still enjoy listening to it (if I say so myself!). Hope you like it too. [Edited: As of 6-19-05, "Cry..." is #3!]

No, I don't dress up my dogs, but this was cute so I had to post it. Thanx Lara! Well, I do dress them up, in their working gear. They have enough to wear without worrying about dog clothing!

The other day I found these emails archived on my system. I knew it! -The WillaWoman ----- Original Message ----- From: "Frankie" [frankie@dogzrule.com] To: "Willie" [Willie@ServiceDog.com]; "Barney" [Barney@GoodDogs.com] Subject: Bored Dudes! Wake up! I found the coolest web site with hot babes . I'm bored, let's do something. Let's put all the pillows on the floor and then jump on them. Then let's move all the rugs around. Then let's lock ourselves in the bathroom. Oh, by the way... One of us has to figure out how to escape from the bathroom. I can't do it all, ya know! Frankie ================================================== ----- Original Message ----- From: "Willie" [Willie@ServiceDog.com] To: "Frankie" [frankie@dogzrule.com] Subject: re: Bored I'm so telling on you. If mommy ever finds out you were on her computer, she'll have a fit and not feed us or something worse. Maybe she won't play

A conversation I had today: She: I went to the beach this weekend, but I didn't have much fun. Me: Why not? She: The person I was with liked to lay on the beach all day. I don't like to lay on the beach anymore. Me: Why not? She: Because I don't like sand in my vagina. Me: [cracking up]

Welp, it's now 3 days after my Sporty Horse-Back Riding and I'm still out of commission. I was so pleased that the day after did not give me any leg pain, but the severe muscle fatigue is plaguing me these 3 days. And today I had nerve pain along with it. Oy. So, I've had to rethink my future Sporty Plans. I enjoyed the riding so much, and I've decided I don't want to give it up. But I think I'll have to forgo the formal lessons and just ride Jack and Lisa's horsies once a month or so. That will still be fun, and just as exhilerating as this last ride was. And that's the point, right? Now I just have to get a cool riding helmet. Perhaps a nice Harley Helmet, like this one: Or maybe this one: Oy.

I noticed today that some of my picture links don't work using the Internet Explorer browser. Why the F*CK are you still using the IE browser?! Try using Firefox, Mozilla, or Netscape (in that order). They're all free. And Firefox/Mozilla have pop-up blockers built in. In fact, all of you using IE should download Firefox right now. I mean it. IE is such a security risk to use these days, I recommend only using it when you have no choice. Plus, my great pictures don't always display using IE. Even better reason to switch browsers! Here's some links to the other browsers... sorry for the yelling! Firefox Mozilla Netscape Opera If you insist on sticking with IE, read THIS .

Yesterday was a day for overcoming fears... and making choices. First, about the fears. When I was a kid, about 14-15, my best friends had horses. We rode almost every day, usually bare-back. There was one horse, Smokey, who was old and set in his ways. One day, on a rare day I used a saddle, he decided to take off at a full gallop down my street about 1/2 mile to his barn. The saddle's cinch strap broke and me and the saddle went flying. I landed on my chin, went into shock, had large bruises on my elbows and my abdomen. My neighbors came running out with blankets, my mom came running, and they all stayed with me until the ambulance came. I was rushed to St. Frances hospital, given lots of x-rays (no MRI's back then), maybe a CAT scan (?), got a bunch of stitches on my chin, and was sent home. Of course, the old saying if you fall off a horse, you have to get right back on holds here. A week or so later, I decided to go to a professional riding stable and pay to ride. They ask

. One day I accidentally snapped a pic of myself. Apparently I caught Frankie stalking me over my shoulder. Scary Smart!

When you work a Service Dog, there's one thing you must be prepared for. Conversations. Questions. Smiles. Nods. All acknowledging that yes, you are different. If you don't want to be reminded of this, maybe an SDog isn't for you. If you don't like talking about the same topics over and over again, think twice about working a dog. Here's some topics and questions that get repeatedly asked: How old is your dog? How long have you had him? Is he a boy or a girl? What breed is he? What does he do for you? What's wrong with you? (Note, not "What the HECK is wrong with you?") Do you get to keep him when he retires? Does he ever get to be a "real" dog? Is that a Seeing Eye/Guide Dog? How long does it take to train them? I don't mind answering the same questions over and over. Heck, I've experienced the alternative when not working a dog. I've experienced the look of fear, the look of sympathy, or simply t