I was in the grocery store this weekend, picking out holiday cards, when a woman caught my attention. Usually, my husband is with me. This time, it was just Whiskey and me.
She seemed a little nervous, standing beside her husband, who was holding a bouquet of flowers. For a brief moment, I thought, For me? But she’d noticed Whiskey and wanted to ask about getting a service dog.
Now, I work in marketing. You’d think I could pull together a decent elevator pitch for the dog standing beside me. Instead, one of the first things I said was that I wouldn’t recommend a Doberman because of his “spasticity.”
While standing next to my Doberman. Who helps me with MS. The irony wasn’t lost on me, although apparently it arrived a little late.
Whiskey, meanwhile, was being perfectly calm. Really helping my credibility there, buddy.
What I meant was that choosing a service dog is about finding the right dog for your needs. We’d had a Doberman before, and his height and stature had been part of our thinking. We talked about finding a trained dog versus taking part in the training yourself, why we’d sought out a breeder, and what had gone into Whiskey’s training so far.
Somewhere in that conversation, she started describing things that sounded familiar. I mentioned I had MS, and her husband gave her a little nudge.
“Do you have MS, too?” I asked.
She did.
From there, we talked about the symptoms that give us the most grief. A couple of times, I lost my balance a little, and I noticed her shifting, too. There we were, comparing notes while our bodies provided supporting evidence.
I’d gone in for cards. Suddenly, I was talking with someone who understood parts of my everyday life without needing the whole explanation.
Whiskey stayed quietly beside me as we talked. I explained that we’d taught him German commands to help distinguish his cues from everyday chatter. Then, while describing what he does, I said “brace”—which is decidedly not German.And he did. Right there, while I was still explaining.
Apparently, one of us had been ready for this conversation all along.Before we parted, I introduced myself, wished her luck, and said I hoped we’d see each other again. When I got home, I told my husband about meeting her.
“Did you tell her about MScapades?”I shook my head and lowered it. No. No, I did not. An entire conversation about the things I write about, and I never mentioned the website. A strong day for the marketing department.
But her questions stayed with me. If you’re wondering whether a mobility service dog might fit your life, I’ve put together Considering a Mobility Service Dog? 7 Questions to Ask. And if exploring breeders is part of that process, the AKC’s questions to ask a potential breeder can help you prepare for those conversations.
Hopefully, I’ll see her again and remember to share it. Whiskey already seems to have his part of the introduction handled.