Proof

...that I've lost my mind. I have never wanted a dog, or any indoor pet bigger than a goldfish. I'm an animal lover from a distance (I do love horses, but then they don't live in your house). Dogs are fine, but they're stinky, hairy, loud and just in the way a lot of the time. Watching my parents trying to live with an insane Wheaton Terrier in their early empty nest days was enough to solidify my "no inside pets" policy for good. The dog would regularly do his business outside only to come back indoors with a few nearly-camouflaged poop ornaments still adorning his behind. And then he'd sit on the carpet. The same carpet my kids were crawling around on. {{Shiver}} Plus, as I mentioned, the dog had some screws loose, something my parents could not have known when they brought home an impossibly cute little puppy.

My life is nuts. Four kids. One baby. One son with special needs who requires a lot of energy. I am cross-eyed-dizzy loony-bin-ready pretty much all day every day. But here's where the dog thing starts to make some sense. I say, several times a week how much it stresses me that I can't be by Noah's side every minute. You never know when a seizure is coming. You never know how bad it's going to be. You never know when he'll figure out a knob or lock or handle or latch for the first time that lets him cut himself loose and run. And run. When he gets free, he has no sense of danger or direction and he doesn't answer to his name when you call him. He has only escaped a few times, but it was terrifying each time. Enter Service Doggy.

A lab or retriever, trained in search and rescue and in reading other cues or issues in a boy like Noah may actually allow me to breathe. No more guessing which way Noah went. No more wondering if, out of sight a few minutes too long, he's seizing and choking on something life threatening.

Questions remain. Can I deal with even more poop in my life? Can I handle more appointments for a 4-legged family member? Can my gag reflex be desensitized to, among other things, hot steamy dog-food-laced breath in my face? I don't know. Maybe. There may be a dog out there, getting ready to stand by Noah when nobody else can. But maybe a well-placed micro chip and several surveillance cameras are much less hairy solutions.