Making Magic – Early Alert Canines’ “1st Annual 2-4-1 Walk”

At the starting line
EAC’s 1st Annual 2-4-1 Walk

Have you ever had that feeling from deep within that you know you are helping to create something magical?  This feeling truly came to light for me this past Saturday at the Early Alert Canines’ “1^st Annual 2-4-1 Walk” (2 feet, 4 paws, 1 cause!).  About 75 people, escorted by 15 dogs, came together as a community to share their support for EAC, and show their enthusiasm for training diabetic alert dogs.

As we walked around the small lake, admiring the fountain and enjoying the sunshine, we talked.  Here are a few of the stories that were shared with me:

Lalu, a very vocal black lab-golden mix that was teamed with her young (about 6 year-old) partner and her family in April, alerted from across the gym as the little girl’s blood sugar sky-rocketed while she was performing on the uneven parallel bars at a gymnastics event.  This was somewhat embarrassing since Lalu’s vocal volume increases with the intensity of her alerting.

Again, Lalu, who is terrified by water, alerted while her young charge was swimming.  Lalu’s alert for dropping blood sugar is to raise her paw and touch.  As Lalu was alerting, she was walking toward the pool on three legs as she kept her ‘alerting’ paw raised, calling the whole time.

Jedi, was also placed with his new family in April (his young diabetic responsibility is 7). He is the classroom’s favorite ‘visitor’ each day he is bought to work there with his new ‘mom’.  Apparently, all the kids were incredibly disappointed when “Just the Mom!” came on their field trip to the zoo, with no Jedi.  (Bringing a service dog to the zoo might evoke the “pray instincts” in the caged animals.  It is recommended they not be taken to places with wild animals – even caged.)

Both Jedi’s and Lalu’s ‘parents’ expressed how much comfort is having the dogs.  They said there are no words to express what it’s like to have another set of eyes (or nose in this case) looking over their diabetic children.  And the peace of mind knowing they’ll be told about potential problems before a true emergence happens, even if it means being awakened at night, is a great relief.

On a different note, it was great to hear that one of the EAC trainers is making an ‘office-call’ to try to help resolve an alerting issue that is arising at someone’s work.

Even us “old –times” shared stories of our own: my dog, Rainie, alerting me while on the beach; and the quiet assurance provided by Norm to his T1D ‘dad’ who lives alone.  And Jason, is full of stories of how “Eli” alerts him while he’s traveling for work – regardless if it’s on a plane, in a restaurant or hotel, etc. And, yes, Eli even alerts at home and in the car.

It was an incredible honor/pleasure/moment-of-pride for me to see so much participation and enthusiasm for what EAC does.  I want to thank our ‘new recruits’ (dogs in the process of being scent trained), the families fostering them, the newly placed teams, the training/office staff, us “old-timers” and everyone else who have ever supported EAC or donated to our fundraiser.  I hope that everyone realizes that you, too, are helping to create some magic.

Accomplishments Large and Small

Accomplishments Large and Small - Diabetic Blog Week

Blue
The color of diabetes awareness

How often are we given the opportunity to acknowledge our accomplishments, or are actually encouraged to share our pride?  And, how often do we toil to learn a difficult task, one that we should be proud of, just to have it become routine and ho-hum?  For example:  Not many of us remember learning to walk or run, and then stop gracefully – which are all huge feats, if you think about it.  But now walking is routine, and taken for granted, and the effort it took to learn, long forgotten.  I believe, once a habit has become routine, it is human nature to disregard the fact that we had, at one time, accomplished a huge task.  Let’s take today to celebrate where we are, and the path we took to get here.

When I look back at all that I (and my family) have accomplished in terms of living with my diabetes, I can easily become overwhelmed.  Since being diagnosed as a very young infant in the 1950s, these are a few of the skills that I’ve had to practice:

• Giving (and getting) shots
• Using Test-tape (we/diabetics used to test our urine to check for sugar.  That was the only way we kind-of guestimate what our blood sugar  was.)
• Performing and interpreting finger-stick blood sugar testing
• Adapting to constantly changing eating regimens, and personal likes and dislikes
• Learning how to count carbs
•  Learning about different types of insulin and when they peak and valley
• Learning how to juggle diet (with insulin), exercise (with insulin), emotions and stress (with insulin) – all a work-in-progress, while…
• Constantly figuring out how to correct my ‘mistakes’ when I over eat or give/get too little/too little insulin or when my blood sugar doesn’t like the color of my sox (or something), etc.
• Mastering (sort-of) the pump, dealing with depression, dealing with complications –  for me it’s happening mostly in my eyes
• Finding other diabetics to talk to, and
• Getting a diabetic alert dog

Wow!  Those are a lot of skills, and confronting each one deserves a moment of pride, if not a medal.

However, today’s topic for Diabetes Blog Week is to discuss my biggest accomplishment.  This one is easy!  My biggest accomplishment is that I am no longer ashamed that I am diabetic, and that I am no longer bashful about telling people that I have diabetes.  For this momentous step forward, I can thank my diabetic alert dog, “Rainie”.

As a young child I was taught to hide my diabetes at all costs.  I was taught that it was shameful and something not to be shared.  I grew to be a self-reliant “chronic child,” never asking for help, even when I needed it badly.  Despite desperately wanting to go, I was not allowed to go to Diabetic Camp.  My parents wanted me to think of myself as a ‘normal child’; but instead, I felt felt very isolated, defective and alone.  Unfortunately, I sub-consciously kept these beliefs about myself throughout college and nursing school – even after I’d specialized in diabetes.  It was only after getting married that I learned I could ask someone (my husband) for help – he loved me even though I had diabetes!

This was when I began realizing that I have diabetes and I’m ok!

I continued to evolve and open up about who I am.  In 2010 I decided to apply for a diabetic alert dog.  One of the ‘things’ we were warned about is that when you have a service dog’s leash in your hand, people will ask very personal and inappropriate questions: “What is your dog for?,” or “What’s wrong with you?” or many other questions like that.  With a service dog, it’s more difficult to ‘hide’ the fact that you are different.

Happily, I’ve learned to take these questions in stride.  In fact, when people ask me about Rainie and what she does, I’ll usually say, “This is Rainie.  She is a diabetic alert dog and smells for changes in my blood sugar.  I am diabetic.”  From here, the conversation can turn towards Rainie and diabetic alert dogs, or toward diabetes.  It usually turns toward Rainie.  It’s funny because not too long ago, my daughter mentioned that she couldn’t believe how easily I admit to being diabetic.  “Mama,” she said, “It’s not like you.  You’ve changed.”

I’ve been teaching about diabetes to patients, families and groups for years; and finally, after over 55 years of living with ‘type 1′, I’m finding I can proudly say, “Yes.  I have diabetes.”  And I’m glad I finally can.

I have diabetes and I’m ok!

Blog Week: Memories

Diabetes Blog Week, “Memories”

Today we’re going to share our most memorable diabetes day. You can take this anywhere…. your or your loved one’s diagnosis, a bad low, a bad high, a big success, any day that you’d like to share.~~~~~~~

Me
at about 3 years old

 Since I have had diabetes my entire life, I have many memories to choose from.  I am going to pick a positive memory from ‘way back on “Memory Lane”…’  This is what I remember as a young child (age 4-ish) in 1961:

I remember my dad coming home one evening, after checking on his patients in the hospital.  He said he had something in his pocket to show me.  Like any little girl waiting for ‘one of those gifts Daddy brings home from a long trip’, I danced around in anticipation.  We went into the kitchen where my “mommy” was feeding my baby sister.  The kitchen was darkening in the late afternoon as my dad pulled two chairs up to the small table.  As I crawled up on mine, perching on my knees, my dad unfolded a clean towel and placed it on the table.  He then took one of my glass syringes, and laied it out.  I couldn’t figure out what was going on.  I had already had my ‘shot’ for the day; and my mom was getting upset because she had just finished laboriously boiling/sterilizing my two glass syringes, as well as re-sharpening the syringe needles.  (I was always fascinated as she drew the needles across a cotton ball to check for barbs, then would meticulously sharpened them on a special dark-gray stone.  These, too, were put in the pot with the syringes to be sterilized.   Since they were hand-made, the plungers had to be paired to the correct syringe barrel by matched the numbers etched into the glass – it was quite an ordeal.)

My dad then placed a large paper envelope next to the glass syringe.  He had brought home two of the first disposable syringes.  This was not quite the sort of gift I expected, but my dad was excited, and, therefore, so was I.  We peeled the envelope open, and there was a thin, plastic syringe with the needle already attached!  It was so much smaller than the glass ones I had.  He showed me how to pull the cap off – the needle was so sharp and thin!  I was excited!  My shots had always been the most traumatic time of the day – they hurt, they were big, and the skin on my legs was already bumpy and forming scar tissue. (Only later did we learn that I was allergic to the beef  the insulin was made of in those days.  And, even though the ‘new disposables’ were much smaller than the clunky glass ones, they were still much bigger than today’s.  In those days, the insulin was U40 – 40 units per cc, where today, the insulin is U100, or 100 units per cc.)

The next morning I got to use the other new syringe.  I don’t know if it truly felt better; or if it felt better because I wanted it to.  Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to use the disposables for a couple more years because they were too expensive – 19¢ a piece.  I was too young to know the value of 19¢, but I do know that using the disposable syringes was something I looked forward to.

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I had originally intended my blog, “RainieAndMe,” to explore my life and experiences with a Diabetic Alert Dog (DAD).   However, during the Diabetic Blog Weeks, I will muse about my life and experiences as a diabetic.

 

Diabetes Blog Week: What Would You LIke Your Endocrinologist to Know?

I had originally intended my blog, “RainieAndMe,” to explore my life and experiences with a Diabetic Alert Dog (DAD).   However, during Diabetes Blog Week, I will write about  my life and experiences as a diabetic.

Diabetic Blog Week: “Often our health care team only sees us for about 15 minutes several times a year, and they might not have a sense of what our lives are really like. Today, let’s pretend our medical team is reading our blogs. What do you wish they could see about your and/or your loved one’s daily life with diabetes?” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whenever I meet new endocrinologists or diabetic educators, I ask them ,”What made you decide to go into diabetology?”  Truthfully, I’m always hoping their decision was due to a personal experience; however, the answer is usually something like, “Well, it seems like diabetic control is all about math.  If you can just get the math right…  The worst experience I’ve had was meeting an endocrinologist in my town who believes she knows what it’s like to be diabetic because she wore a pump filled with normal saline for one whole week!  She is adamant that she knows what life is like and that insulin control is completely about math – and, therefore, should be completely predictable.  If your blood sugars are out of control, it is your fault!  And, I must admit, that the one time I saw her as a patient, I decided, was one time too many.

What I wish any health care practitioner in the field of diabetes could do is feel what diabetes is like – the mood swings, the fatigue, the food cravings, the frustrations that come along with not feeling good, and the fragility of living with unpredictable blood sugars.  How would they deal with the sense that, at times, they are trudging through each moment, as if walking through physical and psychological mud — decisions are hard, one’s balance is off, nothing seems easy because life is hard when the blood sugar is out of control .  I’d like them to live with the unknowing and the fears – questions like:  Am I going to be able to get home if I go on a long bike ride?, or, Is my blood sugar in a good range so I can confidently take this test?, Am I safe to drive?, or, Will my diabetic child be ok going on a field trip/ to a slumber-party/ or swimming or jumping on a trampoline?, or, Will I/my child/my friend or spouse wake up in the morning?

I think just one week of these experiences would awaken compassion and give our health care providers true insight into our lives.

Hot Off the Press: EAC’s “The Scentinel”

Hot Off the Press: EAC’s “The Scentinel”

Here is the May 2013 edition of Early Alert Canines‘ “The Scentinel”, a newsletter full of information on diabetes, dogs, and diabetic alert dogs.

There is one correction:  In the section called “Vet Notes” the medication called Capstar should have been Comfortis.  Both are oral flea pills but the Capstar lasts 24 hours and the Comfortis lasts 30 days.

~ Enjoy!

How do you teach “Compassion” and “Empathy”?

When I was working in the hospital as a nurse, I was always misplacing my stethoscope, only to find it hanging around my neck.  Now, with Rainie in my life, I am perpetually doing the same thing with her leash.  I’ve discovered that the neck is a very handy place to put it – so I’ll always know where it is.  Except I usually forget it’s there.  I was reminded of this as I was hurriedly trying to put everything in order to go talk to the local nursing program’s class that is studying pediatrics and chronic illnesses.  As I was attempting to get Rainie and the gear into the car, I couldn’t find the leash because it was around my neck!

 In preparation for my talk on “the psychosocial impact of choric illness on the individual, family and society” (as well as diabetic alert dogs), I asked the students to read “How Does It Feel” from this blog site.  I wanted to try to show the students the impact a nurse can have if he or she tries to put herself/himself in the position, or shoes, of the client, and look at issues from that orientation.  I discovered this is much easier said than done.  “Empathy” is something one develops with maturity and experience.

Here are some of the topics we talked about in class:

I asked what issue do they (the students) think is the biggest fear of having diabetes, or having a child with diabetes in the family.  The major response I heard was the fear of going blind from long-term complications.  This is not what I was expecting from a class that had already covered the biology of diabetes.  But, at the same time, I could see where they got this idea from – I remember the doctors talking to me about ‘maintaining my diabetic regime’, or I might go blind!!  The doctors were using the scare-tactic on me in order to get me to follow their rules.  This must be what the students are being taught in this program.  I told them I had hoped they would talk about the daily problems of the diabetic’s blood sugar of going too low.  Low blood sugar (hypoglycemia) will quickly cause altered thinking, poor judgment, dizziness, accidents, unconsciousness, and, ultimately, death.  We explored what it might be like living with this constant fear, and the life changes that must be made in order to avoid hypoglycemia and long-term complications.

Next we talked about diabetic alert dogs, and how one might fit into a diabetic’s life, and why.  (Rainie was a star!)

We discussed how the first thing a nurses must assess (measure) when meeting with a client is the client’s fear and degree of acceptance of a diagnosis, and find out what ‘burning questions’ they may have.  Without doing this first, no other teaching can happen – especially if the client is truly anxious, agitated or angry.  And, the diagnosis of “Diabetes” tends to bring with it a lot of fear and anxiety, especially if it is in a child.  We explored how, in a perfect family, the whole family might adapt to the new food requirements and exercise plans, as well as be involved in learning what diabetes is all about.  The family and the patient are the nurse’s client.

I talked about how the patient may have an appointment to meet with a nurse in order to learn or review a myriad of information, but, even though the patient may look ‘fine’, their body might be in a bad metabolic/chemical state due to blood sugar problems.  This makes the nurse’s job of teaching more difficult, and possibly frustrating for both the nurse and client/s.

There was so much we could have covered, but I only had an hour, and the instructor had asked me to show how a nurse would teach someone (a family member, a teacher, a school nurse, etc.) how to give a Glucagon injection.  (Glucagon is a hormone that should be injected into a diabetic if the diabetic’s blood sugar goes so low that she/he is not able to eat, becomes combative, is having seizures, or becomes unconscious.)  I brought two expired glucagon kits with me so the students could actually handle them, and mix the two ingredients together as if they were going to teach someone how to inject the Glucagon.  The example I gave was for the students to teach a grandmother how to give a Glucagon injection to her 3-year-old granddaughter, who was having seizures due to low blood sugar.  Before we cracked the cases open, I asked the class if anyone had ever given himself or herself an injection.  All the faces, but one, dropped with an expression of horror!  “NO!”  I asked, “Why not?”  I suggested that the next time they had to get a flu shot or tetanus shot, to ask to give it to themselves, then imagine what it might be like for a parent to have to learn how to give their first insulin shot to their child, or, as in this case, what it would be like for Grandma.  The room became very quiet … Next, we figured out how to break open the plastic box the glucagon kit comes in, uncap the syringe and needle, inject the fluid from the syringe into the glass vial containing the powdered glucagon, agitate the bottle to mix it, and now teach “Grandma” how to give the injection.  I believe my asking the nursing students to imagine doing this to themselves must have “freaked-them-out” because most of them were “all thumbs.”  After much giggling and dropping of the bottles, my time was up.

For me, this opportunity was priceless.  I haven’t “put my nursing hat on” for a long time.  As for the students, I hope they took away a slightly different perspective of life and the teaching process.

Keeping Hope Alive

I’m always amazed how a little thing, like a simple sticker in this case, can cause an “Ah-ha” moment.

Rainie and I have just returned from our weekly trip to the local farmers’ market, where, as usual, we were soon greeted by a following of kids.  From the distance, I heard little voices shouting, “Look Mommy!  There’s a dog!” or, “Rainie! Rainie! There’s Rainie!”  The kids seem to appear individually, or by swarm.  After greeting them, and inviting the shy ones (including families) to come forward, I usually introduce the listeners to Rainie by giving them my short talk, that goes something like this: “You always needing to ask before you pet ANY dog, but especially a dog wearing a jacket, because that means the dogs are working, and have a special job to do and shouldn’t be interrupted.”  Then the kids are allowed to do what they came to do (pet Rainie), and I’ll answer the myriad of questions that are posed – i.e.” What does Rainie do?”, “What kind of dog is she?”,  “What is EAC?”,  and, my favorite, “How can I find out more information about diabetic alert dogs and Early Alert Canines (which is usually asked by adults) ?”

Recently, I’ve begun offering EAC stickers to those interested, which seems to delight kids of all ages.  (The little ones assume it is a picture of Rainie, and are pleased to be able to take a picture of her home.).  Today, a girl of about 8 approached.  She was shy as she gently knelt down and wrapped her arms around Rainie’s neck.  She seemed very interested to learn about what Rainie does for me and how she was trained.  She seemed to leave only because her mom was calling for her.  She happily accepted a sticker, and Rainie and I proceeded on our way.  Not long afterword a woman, being led by the young girl, came hurrying up to us.  The mom told us that they had been searching the bustling market to find us in order to find out more about Rainie and EAC.  Apparently, her daughter had given the sticker to her, told her about our conversation, and had asked if she could send the sticker to her cousin in Michigan.  This cousin had been diagnosed with diabetes at the age of 7 months, and is now 3 and a half.  His family is having trouble with the toddler going low at night, and has been trying to find information about diabetic alert dogs, but couldn’t find anyone willing to talk with them because the boy is so young.

After explaining that EAC does place dogs with families with young children, I, unfortunately, had to tell them that due to our being so small, and the fact that we offer life-long support to our teams, EAC must limit the placements of blood sugar alert dogs to the Western United States.  The young girl then said something to the effect of: “Well, maybe other groups will learn how to teach dogs for kids from you (EAC).  All we can do is keep the hope alive.”

Three New Teams Graduate at Early Alert Canines!

“Lucy” and her boys

Yesterday, Early Alert Canines celebrated another major milestone.

Three diabetic alert dogs teams were officially ‘handed their leashes’ in an emotional graduation ceremony.*  One team consisted of “Mr. Brooks”, a petite, yellow Labra-doodle and his new mistress, a long-term diabetic, soon to be retired, who lives alone.  However, for two of these celebrated teams, the ‘clients’ are actually families with multiple diabetic members.  In one family, “Lucy”, a happy and energetic yellow Lab-golden retriever mix, watches over a family with three young boys, two of whom have diabetes; and in the other family, “Bender”, a mellow, loving, gigantic black Lab/golden retriever mix alerts to three home-schooled children and their father.

All of these dogs are alerting to both high and low blood sugars.  Lucy and Bender have been trained to alert one of the parents if their charges’ blood sugars are dropping at any time, day or night.  One of Lucy’s ‘guys’ cannot sense his blood sugar at all (called hypoglycemic unawareness), and her special skills and talents are especially important for this ‘human partner’.  In the five months since the dogs have been placed in their new homes, there has been a decrease in the number of ‘dangerous lows’ and ‘unbelievable highs’, and an overall improvement of the diabetics’ blood sugar levels.  These are very busy dogs!

We like to say that diabetic alert dogs (DADs) are life-saving dogs and a diabetic’s best friend.  They are trained to alert when a diabetic’s blood sugar drops rapidly so that steps can be taken to prevent serious situations.   And low blood sugar can lead to unconsciousness and death.   So, yes, they can literally help save lives.

They also help to save lives in a more figurative manner. Their warnings help to bring a sense of peace of mind and security by providing yet another ‘warning system’ to keep the diabetic’s blood sugar in check.  The dogs can often sense the fact that the blood sugar is going to drop, before it actually does, thereby giving a truly advanced warning of impending danger.  They provide a sense of companionship for the diabetic, and another “set of eyes and ears” (and nose – in this case), for parents of diabetics.  For the parent of a young diabetic, the dogs help allow for a more restful day and secure sleep, knowing the trained DAD will alert them, even waking them up at night, and bring the parent to the appropriate child if there are multiple diabetic children; and for parents of older diabetic children, say, in college, it is a comfort for the parent to know that, even when away, their child has another ‘early warning system’.  And for the ‘more mature’ single person with diabetes, the DAD helps provide the same physical security and companionship, peace of mind for self, family and friends, and the knowledge, to all, that self or loved-one has another helping ‘nose’ and is never alone.

CONGRATULATIONS to all the teams, old and new.  May you continue to have a life of fulfillment and happiness, and peace of mind.

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* To achieve “graduation status”, the new teams must demonstrate an 85% or better alerting accuracy rate.  This means that the dog must correctly alert t >85% of the blood sugar changes tested and recorded by the diabetic client, in multiple and various situations; and the client must recognize the alert and respond appropriately.

 

 

Fear and Companionship

Comfort is a warm puppy!

Yesterday, I was whisked by ambulance to the emergency room for chest pain.  It was 1:30 in the morning, and I woke up in a fit of violent coughing.  Afterword I realized my chest was hurting, I was nauseated, and dripping with perspiration.  I didn’t know what to do.  Last week, my new doctor had lectured me on the dangers of silent heart attacks in diabetics.  She didn’t like that I’ve had a heart murmur since I was a teen, and haven’t had a sonogram for over 20 years.  She wanted me to have all sorts of tests performed – EKG, stress test, blood tests, and an echocardiogram – immediately.  And now I was having chest pain.  I was scared!

We called 911.  The firemen came first, soon followed by the EMTs.  Everyone was extremely nice.  Rainie, my diabetic alert service dog, was invited to accompany me in the ambulance, but I decided to have her go with my husband in his car instead.  She was obviously upset by everything going on.  Something was wrong with her “Mommy”, and all those people around me were confusing to her.  I was worried she’d be traumatized being jostled around in the ambulance as it went down the hills in order to get into town.

When we got to the ER I was wheeled into a room and about 5 nurses and doctors descended upon me, attaching me to monitors, drawing blood, etc.; but when they saw Rainie, they stopped and invited her up onto the gurney to keep me company.  After a quick ‘kiss’ on the chin, and a nuzzle or two, she settled next to me with her head on my abdomen.  With my husband and Rainie there, I finally began to relax.  I felt comforted and loved despite all the ‘medical stuff’ happening to me.

(I am so grateful that I didn’t have to argue with anyone about bringing my service dog into the emergency room.  The fact that she was accepted and greeted so warmly (by everyone my entire hospital stay) was soothing for me, despite all the stress that I was being put through).

The emergency room doctor encouraged me to be admitted due to the “severe combination” of diabetes and chest pain.  They wanted to rule out any heart and stroke possibilities.   I was hesitant.  I do not like hospitals, yet I decided to stay.

As it turned out, every test ended up being normal (surprising, to the doctors, since I’ve been diabetic for over 50 years).   “It’s better to be safe than sorry,” I guess.  I will never forget the ER doctor saying  to me, “Consider it a day of really bad food!”  I came home, sleep deprived, at 3:00 that afternoon.  It was not the most joyous or restful of vacations, despite the size of the forthcoming bill!

February Edition of the Early Alert Canines “The Scentinel”

“http://library.constantcontact.com/download/get/file/1108404407988-37/February2013.pdf

Welcome to the 3^rd edition of Early Alert Canine’s “The Scentinel”.

For some reason, seeing the newsletter in print makes me reflect on what we/EAC have accomplished in the two years and three months since the initial group of us first sat around a kitchen table to begin visualizing what we wanted Early Alert Canines to be.  (We even needed a name.)

We knew we wanted to create a non-profit organization to train and place low blood sugar alert dogs with adults with diabetes, as well as families with young diabetic children.  And we wanted to be far-reaching in the clients we serve. Thus far, in our first year of placing these life-saving dogs, we have graduated 5 certified teams, with three more graduating in March.  We have teams in Oregon, Los Angeles and throughout the bay area.  There are also 3 teams with families with diabetic children – thus far.

A training center was needed.  What a chore this was.  And we did it!  We’ve created a beautifully remodeled site, not far from a large shopping mall, public transportation and San Francisco.  The location provides many of the learning opportunities needed for training the dogs and teams.

Our trainer wanted to continue the research needed in training diabetic alert dogs, and provide documentation of her process.  Even though Carol had previously trained and placed over 60 DADs, the opportunity to train these dogs for families with very young children was new.  Needless to say, large strides have been made in this area.

Of course, there was, and is, the continued need to develop the non-so-obvious infrastructure that an organization requires – office work, applications, work, outreach, fundraising, developing our reputation, attaining dogs, etc., etc………
Thank you for coming along for the ride.   Please enjoy the newsletter!