Okay, I'm going to say something that I never thought would leave my mouth—or I guess in this case, leave my thoughts to my fingers—when I started this journey. It may surprise many of you who have been with me from the beginning, as I've shared joy after joy. Those joys don't lessen this statement and this statement doesn't lessen that joy.
There are days I hate having a service dog.
Now let me be abundantly clear: there has never been, nor will there ever be, a moment in my life that I hate having Zido. He's saved my life—physically, mentally, and emotionally—when I was close to losing all three. He's given me endless moments of laughter, pride, and a happiness I didn't even know existed. He's introduced me to countless numbers of people that I would never have had in my life if I didn't have him. He's given me a freedom that I had long lost hope of ever having. He, in short, is my miracle.
But this post is about my moments of just being human; my moments of, "what if..." and "why me...." My moments of wanting to blend back in and just have a "normal"—albeit sick, freedom-less, scared to be alone—life.
You're probably sitting here, reading this and thinking "Woah, Courtney, take the melodrama down about 23 notches. We want our 'service dogs are the best creatures to bless the ground we walk on' post. None of this 'to be or not to be....that is the question....' stuff."
Well, quite frankly, that sunny, rosey, Instagram-filtered post is exactly the kind I want to share with you, but this is the one that's real to me right now. Don't fear, the joy and the happiness is still here and those posts WILL be back, but for now let's just take a moment to really understand what having a service dog is like, warts and all.
It's being told that you can't book a cabin for your honeymoon because they wouldn't be able to accommodate my dog in case of an emergency (don't ask...long story.)
It's being seated in the back corner of a restaurant that's close to empty, and knowing exactly why.
It's waiting for a public ride-share car to pick you and you husband up in the snow, excited to celebrate your anniversary, only to have them drive off once they see you.
It's being moved 3 times at a show that you paid for front section seats to, only to end up in the back row because that's the only place your dog can fit.
It's sitting on the metro—like I am now—trying to get home, and you know without even looking up that many of the people are staring at and whispering about you, and at least 2 people are probably sneaking pictures that will end up who knows where.
It's looking to a parent for help when their child asks if she can pet your dog, and them getting upset when you tell their child no.
It's getting to a job interview that you were really excited about, only to spend 30 minutes talking about your dog's qualifications for his job.
It's sitting in a restaurant and having someone bring their child up to you and continue to point at you as they loudly talk about you.
It's having a person scream and say you can't get on an elevator because they're scared of dogs.
Basically, having a service dog isn't fun.
But.
Having a service dog is so much more than just "fun."
It's falling in love with your husband because he accepts you, despite all of the above.
It's getting the opportunity to speak in front of rooms of people and telling them how your life has changed, for the better.
It's graduating college and moving on to success when you never thought you could.
It's having your best friend right at your feet when you feel anxious or when you're afraid that you're going to get sick.
It's knowing that you're going to be okay, because you have someone monitoring your every heart beat.
It's educating people about their actions and seeing the light bulb click.
It's finding a passion that you never knew you had and learning how to be a partner.
Yes, there are days—more than I would like—when I think about what my life could be like without a service dog.
But then I truly think about what my WAS like without a service dog, and I remember that it was really no life at all.
Love and blessings,
Zee and Me
Zee and Me
