Can't is a four-letter word

This post is for the
<"eighth Assistance Dog Blog Carnival">
The topic is:
Marching To Your Own drum.

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—I took the one less traveled by,And that has made all the difference."
-- Robert Frost
Throughout my entire life, one of the words I've heard most often is "can't." Mostly it's strangers who say the word, but sadly, at other times it's family, friends, coworkers, trainers, or others with whom I have consistent interaction. When someone tells me that I "can't do" this or that, I'm more than likely to see it as a challenge, and not as the warning or the limitation the person has intended it to be. This also holds true for the word "shouldn't" or similar words. I don't want to be told what to do! Even if someone says "can't" and I try and fail, and they are proven right, at least I had the satisfaction of trying and knowing for myself(the hard way) that I really can't do something. And besides, if I'd listened to all of the can't's and shouldn't's I'd never be where I am today.

I am a Deafblind dog trainer with balance problems. My dogs are owner trained, gotten from an animal shelter or rescue, raw fed, minimally vaccinated, and clicker trained. I have been accused by some, of just "needing to be different." But as strange as it may seem, I'm not really like that at all.

Sometimes, life forces us to be different, to take a chance, to try something unheard of because it is the only thing left to try. This is how I came to clicker training. After my in-home hearing/fetchNcarry® dog, Mill'E-Max was attacked by three dogs in under a year, clicker training was the only thing that helped us make any progress. People said that it wouldn't work, they made fun of my use of treats, and said that it would lead to a dog who's only interest was her belly. Thankfully, they were wrong. Clicker training was such a wonderful discovery that I use it with all of my dogs. It works for us, and so I'll keep doing it.

Sometimes, the lesser-known path is chosen because it is the thing that literally makes the difference between illness and health. My now-retired guide Bristol was very ill in her younger days. She was plagued with chronic ear and skin infections, stomach and bowel problems, and inability to maintain a healthy weight. I switched to a natural-rearing approach-- including a raw diet in hopes of prolonging her life and in the hope that it would be able to let her continue working for me. I did it back in the day when most everyone was still feeding feed-grade kibble. I got many questions, and a lot of dyer warnings from people who were just sure that either my dog would be dead from salmonella within the week, or from people who declared that my dog's work would suffer and she would become a scrounger because she was being fed "people food." Yet again, they were wrong. Bristol started eating a grain free raw diet and within a month, she was a different dog entirely. Twelve years, and thousands of pounds of raw meaty bones later, Bristol is 14.5 years young and still waits eagerly for her allotment of animal parts every morning. Even when she leaves us for the great dog-park which lies beyond, I will still feed this way. I will do it because it works for my dogs!

If I had listened to the "can't's" and the "shouldn't's" nothing would have changed. I would not now, be enjoying the rewards which come with taking chances. The assistance dog community can, at times, be a very harsh and judgmental place. If you are different-- if you take a different road-- you are probably going to get your fair share of unpleasantness over it. You will get more questions and sideways looks than if you had gone to a program, gotten a lab, come home, used approved methods, and fed approved food. For me, what is more important than anything is the success and happiness of the team-- my dog, and me! Sometimes this happiness lies in doing what works for most people. At other times, however, much can be gain by taking the chance and doing things a different way.

Loster? More Lost?

If I had one of those little books which lists all of the obscure holidays, I would surely find that November 30th is International Get Lost Day. Next year I will know not to leave my house on this day.

Around 6 o'clock this evening, I realized that I was out of dog food for tomorrow. I feed a raw diet and thought I had purchased enough food, but my retired Boarder Collie guide, Gracy is here to visit so I miscalculated the number of mouthes to feed.. No problem, I'd just search the bus schedule, hop a bus and grab some marked-down turkey, and be back in an hour.

I Grabbed my phone and braille display, harnessed up the Dobermuffin, and off we went. We walked the seven or so blocks to the bus stop and only had to wait about two minutes when Laveau alerted me to the arrival of the bus. She guided me toward the door, and I waved at the driver so he knew we were going to ride. He responded by driving off in a cloud of fumes. I responded to his response by swearing... a lot... in a few languages.

I searched the bus company's website for the next bus' arrival. I waited. I texted with friends and Mister Pawpower. I practiced swearing some more.

Finally the buss pulled up again, and I got on. The driver was the same driver from before and he told me that he didn't see me standing there the first time. Which means that he was outright lying, or that he was very unobservant because I was waving at him and yelling for him to stop as he drove off. But whatever, I was on the bus and surely I was headed toward marked down turkey parts and by this point I was thinking seriously about a trip down the liquor section for medicinal reasons, of course.

We arrive at my stop, and the driver tells me that I should just go straight and I'd end up at the grocery store. Yes, fellow readers, my blog is like watching a horror movie where the ignorant heroin blithely ignores all of the signs of danger and continues onward. Why did I take directions from a driver who was so unobservant? I don't know, my best answer is that the cold slows down my thinking process. And I know to you yankees up in the frozen north are laughing at my version of cold, but really, 50 degrees is like, almost an ice-age.

Laveau and I get off the bus, and I tell her "forward!" And forward she goes. And goes, and goes, and goes... And that's when she walks me right over the train tracks. .....
Train tracks? Cue more swearing. Then Laveau alerts me to the noise, which signifies a train coming. We immediately turn around, and head the other direction. I tell Laveau to "find the inside." Eventually, she does! I thought we'd be wandering out there forever, in some kind of parking lot hell.

We go to the service counter, where we are assigned to someone who must have skipped high-school biology. When I asked her for turkey, she took me to the fish section. Who knows what they're doing in factory farms these days, but I am not remotely interested in seeing the cross breed of a turkey and a crawfish. Eventually the grocery lady figures out that turkey is in the section with the chickens, and we grab the required dog food. Thankfully my journey after that was pretty relaxed. However the cabby who took me home didn't have change for a twenty, so I gave him all of my ones instead, which didn't add up to the total cost of my trip. However twenty was way over-paying him. The cabby got grouchy with me, and I advised him to visit a bank before he started working.

I think I'm going to go to bed now, and not get up until tomorrow. Surely December 1st is International Pennies From Heaven Day, and my luck will have changed for the better.

ETA:
On another topic entirely, you know you're playing their music too loudly when the Deaf neighbor can feel the rhythmic vibrations coming through the floor, and when said vibrations set the Deaf neighbor's Deaf dog to barking! Now where'd I put that liquor?